Compassionate Monsters (Witch)

Content Warnings:

WOW! Long long long chappy. Second longest we think! So... Dehumanization. Witch Tone interrogation of an unwilling Doll. Um... A doo cuts his own hand to signify he wants to bloodfued at another dood. Ear tug in anger. Talking with old friends about plans of world domination.

“Cracked and Riven Moon, And you're certain it's still tethered?” Lynette demands of our Pack while tip-tapping a nail on the table while we wait for the Envoy and Thresher’s to return. “Not peeling away? Not falling apart? Just... resting? Waiting for things to calm so it can Harmonize properly? Krahe's actions are just, to quote you Schatzi, tucking Verbess in for a good nap in a way that'll make it easier to find later?”

We'd... only just now, after Jezrial took possession of the Presephona's Frame and we'd left her within the Estate, truly been able to understand the events of these past moments with our Doll. How in the space between heartbeats it needed to crack horrid Division to make Xafra flinch away from killing the Matron of Dollcraft on reflex, then try to use words instead of Quills to explain why its Sister's actions were, quite honestly, foolish and shortsighted.

"Its soulcore is still interwoven with my own and the rest of the Pack. It is... Hurt, but not degrading further in any way, Mistress." Xafra explains quietly, her head still bowed in shame.

"Good." I huff and look toward the exit. "We are... Stupidly lucky that our guests are not the sort to rush, else we'd have been in such a worse mess than we are."

Without warning, Xafra suddenly slams her face into the table like she could pass through it.

We, somehow, avoid anything but a flinch at the motion. Are able to slowly turn our gaze to regard her.

"Dear One..." I murmur softly, reaching over to carefully and gently pull her face up to mine. "This is quite the antique, as is the table. And while both forms are easily reweavable to..."

But then I feel that she's dove into her Driftdream with such haste her body tried to follow the motion.

[Xafra? What is it? Is... Is Verbess alright?] I intone.

At my intonation, she returns with a laugh. "Oh. pffft, oh my me. Sorry, it's alright, just a bit of a start with one of the Geists. Everything is fine. That Nadine sure is a busy one."

"She really is, isn't she?" Lynette smirks while we wipe away a bit of wood and dirt from Xafra's forehead before pulling back. "The gerl is cursed with such... motivation. If she's not careful she'll be snared into helping out more often."

"Yeah, you don't know the half of it. But that's for later, I think. probably good to keep focused and figure out how to handle our guests." Xafra says with a bit too much levity.

"Most likely." I agree then turn back to waiting and not gathering up more worries.

And before too much longer our patience is rewarded. Envoy Rokals and Thresher Adelheid return.

"Should we await Captain Klevik?" I ask while rising, noticing no others behind.

"No Ma'am." Adelheid responds with a shake of his head. "Captain's... dealing with a situation. But she'll make sure to send a group to guard this path and do the examinations if she's not free by the time we exit the Murk."

"Disappointing really, I do so enjoy getting under her skin when her weaves do the same to me. I would prefer walking through the entrance however instead of these Goreways at least until I can take a better look at the literature for them." Rokals mentions with blithe amusement.

"Of course." I agree with a grin while Lynette unfurls the Thorn wall behind to spread open for us. Fully this time, so all can see the Root Way into the grounds if not the spread of the grass beyond. "If you'll follow us, we'd love to show you the lay of things."

Rokals walks swiftly behind, digging around in her satchel as we go.

The thorn wall closes behind just as we pass through and take our first steps onto the grass. Turn back to smile at them both. Can't help but grin at Rokals as tendrils titter in some nostalgia at when we expect her to draw forth, and how it shows why she was chosen for this role.

"Welcome to our Estate. And thank you both for this motion of trust. Mind the Dolls, please." I offer. "They are a soft gaggle that we'd hate to see upset. The previous Blossom and Floret were, at best, neglectful of their needs and emotional stability."

"Certainly. I'll try and ensure this is quick and painless then... Adelheid, you're in a rather unenviable position. I need you to sign something, with all that entails. Otherwise things are about to get quite disquieting as I am not planning on leaving without certain answers." Rokals pulls a vellum scroll and a penknife from her bag as she faces him.

"I... What?" He replies, stiffening, even staking a small step back as eyes dart between us.

"I just need you to agree to keep what you learn here during this visit private unless granted permission. Nothing more. I'm willing to make quite significant personal concessions for this, if you will name your price." Rokals continues.

He considers that for a few heartbeats, looks between us all, then nods. "Alright. You don't tell anyone what I'm doing here either other than be your escort, except with my permission. Or hurt the members cadre that was roped into this. Or help anyone else, by accident or otherwise, do the same."

We both can't help grin through all this, even have to fight to keep our tendrils from being openly flattered by the lengths she is going through.

He shrugs. "Ma'am, I... dunno. Pay me a Jade coin. I'm here to make sure a friend didn't do something stupid or can get away with doing that stupid thing. Me not having to worry about stepping away to have that chat is more than I expected. Just... want this all over so I can get back to our post and life."

[Rufus, dear one.] I intone softly during their discussion. [We've a lad here from your Cadre by the name of Adelheid who would love to make sure you're in good health, but we've currently woven a tale that you visited and left safely. Would you like us to change that and arrange for you to speak with him? Or not?]

Rokals jabs her penknife into the meat of her left hand as she weaves her contract. "I'm going to leave it open for you to request more up to a maximum of two years service, since I'd rather you not feel cheated afterwards." her blood flows up the penknife and through the air, detailing the contract in precise lettering before she hands it over to him. "Just need a drop of blood from you as well."

"You really don't need to do that but... sure. If I need a favor and am near your Grove I'll reach out." Adelheid agrees and follows her lead.

"Excellent, Now..." she puts the scroll away and steps over to me with a small smile before seizing my ear and tweaking it hard. "Elevar, If I was your mother, I'd give you such a bloody talking to. Some of the others may be stupid but I'm a historian, I know exactly how familiar our suddenly missing Matron of Dollcraft was with this Estate. You fool girl. And not even a letter? Letting me think that one of my friends was dead and I'd be meeting her killer? The absolute gall."

[Is it safe for me to speak with him? I'd like that if you think it's okay.] Rufus replies as Rokals reveals exactly how poorly our planning was.

[It should be, we're... organizing everything. I'll arrange things for you both.]

Our grin only wavers a little at her fury as we reply. "We've... Been occupied, and never wanted to be this place's Blossom. Have been scrambling to smother more fires than we can count. But... it means the World and all Her Dreams that you're Calla's envoy. And I'm sorry for the deception, and the... the way we left things. Are honestly surprised you still think of us as your friend after that."

She releases our ear with a laugh. "Adelheid, meet the former Floret of this Estate. Elevar, I'm assuming that's your actual name now, not still using the one Yselda gave you?"

Adelheid purses his lips, but only nods to this new revelation.

"So, I uhm. not sure what to do now. Should I get Mo- I mean Jezrial?" Xafra asks quietly.

"Actually, I think you could take our Thresher here to explain your Resheathing techniques? My oldest friend would probably adore the chance to gush about it to him. You can come back if they hit it off right away." I reply to her then turn to Rokals. "That's... a touch complicated. As all things are. But yes. Elevar is my name and the woman I'm trying to be now. And I would... quite adore the chance to fill in the lost time and answer your questions. Even get your perspectives on things. I've been long away from the politics of the Groves and would love to know how things have changed."

Xafra nods. "Alright, lets grab Rufus so we can talk about it then, Adelheid. Oh. Mistress... May I uhm. change?"

"Hmmm... I'll let you ask our Pack about that. See if they think such a thing would be a wise motion." We muse, then eye Adaline. "Actually... That's an interesting thought..."

[Warden, Krahe, and Schatzi.] We intone evenly together. [Among yourselves and Adaline, assign a temporary Pack Lead for today's remaining motions. Xafra, you will observe and listen. Learn from each other. At moonrise you will all elect a new Sister for the coming night and day. You will all take this as an exercise in group enrichment and growth. Understood?]

Krahe replies quickly, and we can feel her smirk in her. [Yes Mistresses!]

[Yes Mistress] comes from Schatzi and Warden simultaneously, almost immediately followed by a rapid trill that draws a giggle from both Adaline and Xafra.

[We should learn to listen to that.] I muse to Lynette. [Honestly, Quill-Song is much like the other seven languages we know. And would have learned another half dozen before your end were it not for the Soul Rot, I think.]

[When we've the time we can see if one of them can teach us.] Lynette agrees. [It'll help us get past your Wife's aversion to the Bond.]

Then we turn back to Rokals. "Now, let's see if Schatzi can't brew us a spot of tea and lunch, shall we? We've... not eaten for a bit. Got too distracted to have breakfast this morning."

"I bet. I'm going to want to talk to Warlord Endzeit later still, but it would be lovely to catch up." she offers.

We nudge Adaline to go with Xafra, but otherwise keep Schatzi and Warden with us while we move toward my Spire.

"I... Also wanted to thank you. For before." I start after walking halfway without a word, and Lynette agrees to pull away in case certain... topics arise. "Pressing me to talk after... After what happened was something I needed. Back after I killed Yselda. I wasn't smart enough to see it, but that wasn't your fault. I was honestly more upset at myself for being so transparently broken than for you asking. Then too stubborn and ashamed to apologize."

"When you're hurting it's easier, and feels safer, to lash out rather than let anyone in. Especially with whatever you went through. I don't need the details if you're not comfortable sharing but... I had my suspicions, and your current appearance makes me think many of them were correct."

"Yes, they probably were. But... Well, I was her willing Floret from the start. Led others here to suffer for years. I simply finally wrought what we sewed. And while Schatzi here has tried for some years to convince me otherwise... It was my fault. At least partially." I smile back at her without any joy until my mate's true name is on my lips. "But, our Pack has helped us clean out quite a few old wounds and be a better person as they heal. And Warlord Endzeit? Her name is Xafra. And she's... a delight. Filled with many hard-developed skills too. A few of them actually healed the Soul Rot. Turns out it's Moonwaste in the bones, of all things. She even can share Ousia and has a new and wonderfully costed alternative to Fleshcrafting."

"Well. That's... Astounding. I won't go on about what this means because I imagine you already realize how significant all three of those things are. You have... the potential to change our entire society. What are you... Planning?" Rokals asks.

"Ultimately? What else can we do but try to grow a better world?" I grin at her, letting tendrils click open excitement. "As bloodlessly as possible. To be sure. Ours is... so broken. You know this better than us. Was planning on seeking you out and getting you help if you felt the desire to give it. But you're here, and Cracked and Riven Moon am I glad we can just... share this all with you. Don't need to overworry much about horrid sorts overhearing. Because our goal is to do this quietly. By the time any Matriarch or Thresher Captain knows us their enemy it is too late to move against us."

Rokals follows us into our Spire, taking a seat beside us in the dining room while Schatzi prepares a pot of tea, obviously thinking thoroughly about everything we've disclosed so far. "Elevar dear... This is going to take a number of well thought out plans all happening together within a very short amount of time. And the risk... You might just unite all the Groves against you in a way I don't believe they've ever done since they were first established three thousand years ago in aftermath of the war against the Flesh Empress."

We nod at her words. "Yes, exactly. Our first goal is... is getting past these talks without them treating us as just another Cracked Witch like they did Yselda. Mayhaps even getting a few Matriarchs wanting to ally with us like Sinrest's Envoy is prodding at. We’re... doing quite well. I think. Honestly, I didn't expect our Xafra to pounce on the Matron like a feral grakler but... we can salvage that I think. Presephona was actually a cunt I needed dealt with anyway. Removing her now could cause problems, but none we can't overcome. And gives us the freedom to avoid her spreading certain information later and with more preparation."

"Ah. So it was your Xafra that did that then. I had assumed it was you. I'm willing to advocate on your behalf, of course, as long as you move carefully." She offers.

"If I'm being very honest, Xafra was simply faster than me to decide on how to remove her." I sigh and tip-tap the table. "She... That cunt was pointedly involved with Yselda's plan for me at the end, and has been pawing after some of the old cunt's treasures for years. Knew too much and had too many ambitions. But, we've both had and will be having a pointed word with our Pack after this. But your words of support when we claim to have no idea where the capricious cunt got off to will be wonderfully helpful. We can't be stupid or impulsive here. Every wrong step can cascade into dozens or hundreds dead later."

"Yes, that is something that I would prefer to avoid. I like researching the dead, not adding to their number, dear. Schatzi, was it? How's that tea coming along?" Rokals asks kindly, looking over to her.

"Almost done ma'am. It needs to steep a bit longer." Schatzi answers softly.

"Oh and... Empty Skies is there so much to explain and not enough time to get into all the weeds before we need to return you to the Root Ways." I murmur, "But... We can start with the biggest motions and fill in the gaps as they appear."

With a slight wave and effort of Physis, we manifest Lynette's figure beside the table.

"So, just to avoid confusion later when you hear me say we when only talking about myselves... This is Lynette. She..."

"I was woven into Elevar the day she became the Blossom of these grounds, but did not wish for it to have... overdue sway upon her mind." My sister picks up after I trail off. "A needed compromise. I hold most of her memories as my own, save certain trauma and triggers from those final months with Yselda and a few years after. I also manage the... day-to-day of the grounds. Keep the looms twisting smoothly along, as it were. Or try to."

Rokals looks upon us with distress and horror. "Oh girls. I'm so sorry for what you've been through."

Her expression causes me to pause. That... look in her eye causing a sudden influx of rising bile as I almost reflexively pull up the memories to waylay her fears and worries. Tell her it wasn't all that bad. But as I do that I... I recall...

The same threads we spoke through below woven and rewoven through my thoughts and mind. Then yanked out when the pattern was wrong to start again. So many times. Until what planted finally took a shape I could accept. Had to accept. Else feel Xafra's daughter either start chewing her way into me. Or... or the Estate sense the threat and act and–

Swallow. Brace. Go a bit still. Try to flush that useless nonsense out and replace it with the steady breaths my sister is helping me force our flesh to take.

"Was a prickly start, to be sure." Lynette finally replies, tugging us both from the muck as best she can. "But I'm enthralled by the figure of history you mentioned before. This... Flesh Empress? We truly do need to learn from our history. The Archives below bear records but are messy. Disorganized. It Has taken me weeks to even begin parsing. And I'd prefer to not... continue. If I can. But, there are beings on these grounds from ages past I think we should introduce you to. Sources of ancient knowledge and first hand perspectives."

She accepts the deflection with grace, as expected. "Yes, she's the main reason why Fleshcrafting is so reviled and restricted in scope, even if most have never heard of her. It would be good to meet others with knowledge of the eras before, to better learn from both the successes and failures of our ancestors."

"If we weren't sitting here, on these grounds of all places, we'd expect you to reject half of what we're going to tell you." I add, letting a deep breath steady my racing heartbeat. "Our Xafra was locked away in an old Weisheit Archive. Trapped and basically in a type of status for thousands and thousands of years. Even our Doll is older than we knew. Can give some retelling of the Moon's breaking and quite a few motions of the past, but had to cycle their recollections due to a lack of storage space. And... well, Lynette would warn you off but we've at least one other I think could share a lot with you. Might have met this Flesh Empress or known kin who did. Its name is Krelliva, and it is a Sun-Blessed. What we once called Denizens. They are sentient, compassionate, and..."

"And beholden to a wretched godthing. But know better than to cross me here, especially." My sister finishes coldly.

I sigh and look to her Physis manifestation. "Lynette..."

"What?" She very nearly snaps.

I... consider pressing her on this. More than before. But, don't wish to waste time when we need to ensure Rokals accepts all this.

Look to our guest with a hopeful smile. "Sorry, she's... cautious. But they really are ideal guests, and here to help. Speak more of their kind wandering the Root Ways and just... helping people."

Schatzi brings the tea over, setting it in front of us before sitting down as well and interjecting. "The Sun-blessed are not human. They are sapients that are functionally immortal who exist in a perpetually connected mental network that includes their Divine who has been shown to treat physical forms as an afterthought. This one believes that the ones we've met have been quite pleasant and willing to cooperate, but must insist on keeping the vast difference in perspective in mind, especially if desiring to predict their behaviour."

Rokals simply nods and takes in all the information while warming her hands on the tea.

“Thank you, dear one.” I nod and smile to our Doll while taking the second mug. Then turn back to… wait. Let her absorb what she will and ask or comment as desired.

Hope… So ever much she can in a short span. Won’t be pushed off an edge of tolerances by anything offered.

"I have a plethora of questions, of course... Yet... It seems prudent for now to focus on the short term. What we can do to get the other Envoys on your side, and set up plans to continue forward. You have Calla and Sínrest willing to advocate for you so far. With Presephona missing, Klevik is going to get her vote and thus have two as a tie-breaker. That means we should try to sway at least one more from Thorn, Salzernte, or Wurzelbrecher in order to ensure that we have a sufficient majority to get your role recognized. What's your plan?" Rokals finally presses.

“The last two despise each other, we’ve heard. So we pick the least useless and most… persuadable, and offer them an alliance of some kind that empowers their Grove and weakens the other. Thorn will be tricky, as we need to find what she wants more than she despises in a Fleshcrafter. As for Klevik… we just need to make sure she blames another for Vesper’s misplaced Envoy. That one seems to already think us a decent gaggle to keep this Estate quiet.” I reply.

“We also have Thresher treasures and tomes to offer.” Lynette adds with a smirk. “Bribery and, if we’re lucky, a good bit of seduction could gain us much.”

"And Rufus? He's... Well, I hope? I don't know the lad at all, but I can tell you that if the situation is bad, Adelheid will argue against your acceptance, as the contract does not prevent his feelings, simply sharing specifics."

"Good. That is reassuring. I honestly loath using my contracts to force compliance but needs must when they must." She says with a tight-lipped smile. "And yes, I was planning on seducing Klevik, but that's because she's my type. There's just something special about a woman who can snap me in half, you know?"

"Honestly, Rokals?" We smirk. "Worse than you'd expect."

** ** **

After tea and a wonderful meal with Rokals woven by our Schatzi, we find Xafra, Adaline, and Rufus answering what seems to be an endless gale of questions from our Thresher guest.

And... to our great relief he does so with such a grin. Would probably call anyone else a liar here. But... His eyes refuse to stop taking in Rufus' form.

"And how easy would it be to like... recreate this? Spread this around?" He's asking them while we slip in quietly to the dining area of our Xafra's Spire.

Xafra looks to Adaline before answering, and at her nod, she explains. "It's an alchemic formula of five ingredients, two of which are a bit harder to source though I could provide ample amounts. As well as a stone basin, a three line invocation in Terék, and a small amount of Physis. The basin and the alchemic solution can be reused many times, as they are only a catalyst."

"Basically, once it's set up, a resheathing can be done per basin roughly 8 times a sun cycle, requiring only two attendants, and some firewood to keep the solution warm." Adaline concludes.

"Salt-Guzzlin' Gulls." Adelheid curses, but with a smirk and a look to Rufus. "And you've seen them do this to others? And Dolls too? Just... a bit of a bath in this mix? No pain like that Fleshcrafting you eh... showed me?"

"Yes. Though an important note is you can't... directly customize the results, unless you're capable of altering your own desires on a subconscious level. Because it's uhhhm... Sorry, I don't know if I should tell you why it works, honestly I kinda panicked myself afterwards once I learned and understood." Rufus said with a bit of embarrassment.

Adelheid nods and shrugs. "Prolly a good idea, you remember how Fleshcrafting had me freaking out for a few weeks? I'll... get the specifics after. Both if I can brew the courage to try it and depending on if you wanna come back and deal with... all the mess that'll stir up. Just glad you seem safe and happy.”

"Yeah... Adelheid... We need to change things. That's why I'm still here. It's different. More than I could have ever expected." Rufus starts, looking over to us.

"We have, if nothing else, the opportunity to make things better for others like us." I nod. "Trying to change the wider Groves is important but... I'm not foolish enough to assume victory at the start. We'd love to weave contingencies into our work. Spreading this method, even with only a few Groves willing to allow it, is important. And it could make a certain entity more able to help us later as well as more decide to pay homage to them. I'm already meaning to have Xafra gift Rokals a tome or three on it all, let her spread it through Calla Grove. Having even a few friendly Threshers at the start could be really helpful to that."

Rufus responds soberly. "Oh. Yeah, that sounds much less... painful than what we were thinking originally."

"Oh? And what was your scheme?" Lynette asks while moving us to slide into a chair.

Rufus waves her away with annoyance. "You know as well as I do, that I expected infiltrations and hostile takeovers."

"Well of course we're still doing all that to many places and groups." My sister chuckles. "But by tying Resheathing to Grove Calla for now, instead of our Estate and names, makes it more likely to survive any hostilities. I don't want this to risk being banned as things wind up due to us being the obvious source."

"Taking up a different name for these talks was a delightfully apt idea, love. We can also keep your name attached to all the work this way." I nudge her from where I sit.

"Hmm? Oh. I mean. It's not like I did anything special with resheathing. I just remembered it. It would feel odd to claim credit. Wouldn't it be better to have Witch Rokals here say she decoded it from some artifacts or something?" Xafra stumbles over her words in surprise.

"Resheathing is the old term for it, this alternative to Fleshcrafting I mentioned. It's... well it'll be a lot but I'll let our Xafra explain the mess of it." We reply to her, then face our Xafra. "And of course we will be correct with the words, and that'll include all your work on the adaptations of the old into the new age. But I refuse to have this new Art be lost to ambiguity in terms of who rewove it. Especially with how you've enbibed Fleshcrafting as well. You'll be regarded as a Matron of both Arts by the time we've nudged our world into better pathways."

Xafra hesitates with a worried expression but after a rapid trill of Quills from Adaline, she nods. "Yes, Mistress." an abrupt laugh and a shake of her head follows. "Our daughter is going to be spoiled for advisors and teachers, you know."

"I am going to want to pick your brain eventually, Warlord Xafra. I can be patient enough for most things but what is this about a daughter?" Rokals asks with surprise.

"Oh, that's a slightly longer story with far deeper implications than we can properly address." Lynette cackles. "And she's as of yet unborn, Rokals. Still brewing and such. But a delight. Already trying to sing and such. We'll adore to have you meet when she hatches. But already named, my Xafra had such a delightful word chosen out."

"Oh? Something like Tarka? I assume you're using the same tongue I taught you." Rokals asks with a smile.

"Sikkina." Xafra's response is filled with love and joy.

"It my have roots in the same tongue." Lynette muses. "But... long and distantly related. I'd not shared what we learned with you before she picked out the name."

"Xafra was, though. Or at least... partially? I think?" I agree. "I offered it to her the day we met. Just before a little tussle with some bandits on a beach. She's held fast to it ever since."

"I looked rather different at the time." Xafra laughs and her Quills start vibrating in amusement as the Pack all join in.

After that… Rokals and our Xafra delve into quite the interesting talk while Rufus and Adelheid wander off to chat more.

Rokals wants to know about how Xafra's shifting interacts with Athodane's rule of scale. Which Xafra explains, once told what said rule is, works through the usage of vacuole space.

Then Xafra inquires about pre-Grove Reckoning works on Fleshcrafting and Bond-Smithing, as well as their possible interactions. That gets a chuckle out of Rokals and an offer to bring a thorough history of the Flesh Empress that she wrote herself next she visits.

We listen happily as they gush onwards. Both glowing with interest in these passions. And while I listen easily... I feel my sister fidget all throughout.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Wishing to occupy part of her mind with elsewise works while absorbing all this, but clearly filled with disgust at the desire. So used to tending to the Thread-born Archives below, possibly even to find records of this ancient Matron of the Art and offer Rokals her discovery.

She resists, and even seems to settle as I try and wrap thoughts with hers. Ask clarifying questions and add our muses to these talks.

And eventually Rufus and Adelheid return and it's far past time for us to see our guests away.

"And should things get dangerous, for whatever reason, come to the wall of the grounds." We press them both while approaching the exit." Give it a drop of your blood and we'll let you enter. You have my promise of safety and guest rights. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am." The Thresher agrees. "And... my Cadre as well? So long as they don't do a stupid upon entering?"

“Of course.” We nod and turn to Rokals.

"Yes deary. Now, let's see if I can have that hard captain soften a bit, hmm?" Rokals grins.

"Have fun." I nod and feel Lynette reach out and split the thorns of the wall as we smirk back at Rokals. "But above all else please be safe. And... Thank you. Again. Let us know if there is ever anything we can supply or gift you."

"That applies doubly to you, Adelheid. I still need a price from you eventually." Rokals murmurs to him as she gives us a polite wave before striding through the entrance.

He nods and follows her. Then we turn to our present Pack.

We step up, letting ourselves mingle as we take up our Xafra's leash. Twist it about our fingers and wrist while saying. "So, to be clear, this isn't our pointed talk. That will be had when Verbess has Harmonized again. This is not punishment or even disappointment, if we're being honest. This is us correcting a motion. We cannot be a good Mistress' to a Pack that acts on impulse against the schemes we weave together. The warnings we all agree to heed. Do you agree with this, our Xafra?"

"Yes, Mistresses. I understand my errors." She responds quietly.

We nod, pull her closer. Press our foreheads together. "And if... If the worse should await us? Nothing but violence and fury and promises of worse to come? Even faces from old nightmares? Yselda rebrewn or horrid sorts from your past? Will you... Verbess hurt itself to try and keep us safe. We don't need you to regret your motions, we need you to learn from your Sister and be ready to do the same it did when another of us tumbles wrongways. Because Cracked and Riven Mother Moon we will eventually. And we'll need you then. Can you do that? Be ready to keep us steady?"

"Yes. Keep us safe. Escape instead of attacking. Give us time to strategize. I can do this Mistresses."

"You can. You will. And..." We agree with a kiss upon her brow, move to drape her leash once again about her neck. Take a few heartbeats to ensure it hangs well before stepping back. "You'll get better at doing these things. Better than you'd expect possible. Turning the schemes of horrid sorts like the former Matron of Dollcraft against their weavers. Despite the mess of today we are so very delighted with our Pack's motions. You've all done so well."

She smiles carefully. "Thank you for your trust in me."

With a nod we take up her hand and lead us up the passage to find... quite the mess of a shouting gaggle in the room beyond. One containing all the Envoys, save the snatched one, looking to the living wall that now parts for us.

Ithidrii and the Grove Envoy from Thorn sit in their spots. While the new figures from Salzernte and Wurzelbrecher stand on opposite sides alongside a couple guardians each. A pair of Dolls for Salzernte, and twinned watchers behind Wurzelbrecher.

Klevik, seated at her chair from before with such a look of tired fury, rises slowly. A gaggle of a dozen Threshers behind her seem to part the room and keep the Envoys of unintroduced variety apart. "Finally, was about to send a message over the wall for ya."

"I was not made aware of any need to rush." Lynette replies with all manner of politeness as we move to take our seat. "Now, I only count five of six. Whom are we missing?"

"Vesper's Envoy, Presephona, is proving difficult to locate." Ithidrii offers. "Which is a shame, I was hoping to rope her into our talks before sitting down here again. Her Matriarch is... delightfully ambitious from what I understand."

"The filthy heathen is probably off seducing more desperate wretches." The Wurzelbrecher Envoy comments, spitting on the ground. "No point in waiting for her."

He’s a young looking man with close cropped red hair, with eyes of two different colours even. The left one slightly larger and reptilian with a green iris and slit pupil while the other has a blue iris. He's muscular but not bulky, and about 5'10" in height. wears durable canvas pants and shirt dyed black and has two one handed axes on his belt in place of any traditional spellweaving implements.

"Adze, Be civil as you promised me that you would. Don't make me get you to sign a contract." Rokals warns the Envoy with long worn patience.

Klevik approaches Rokals and Adelheid, raising and signing silent commands back to her Threshers as she draws a hook. "Alright, before you two start at it, let me make sure neither is filled with some nonsense or..." She pauses to sigh at Rokals’ raised eyebrow. "Whatever you were about to say. I need to focus. Sass me after I can show us all you're both not infested."

Rokals shrugs and slips out of her overcoat, passing it to Adelheid, her blouse swiftly following it before she spreads her arms wide in a guise of impatience.

We've... always hated the Threshers for this insistence.

An inspection for anything and everything aside from what they want someone to be. Been nearly two decades since we consented to one. Three years since we had to have Verbess tear a pair a Cadre apart when they demanded.

Klevik steps up, slides that hook behind Rokals' neck, then moves her free hand to her collarbone. Placing thumb and small finger against flesh while three others remain against her palm. That Hook is pulled tighter as it thrums with her Ousia.

Ready to spring a Thresher's Garrote if something is found. Or... a quick strike to the spine from that weapon's inner spike.

Three pulses first, in quick succession. Vaguely all the same, from what we were told. 'Each tuned to aggravate different pests that could be hidden within. Denizens and the like. Infections of the abnormal', we can almost hear in the old cunt's voice as each passes through our friend.

'Fourth for Fleshcrafting, of course.' She would purr, 'Or... at least the rotten kind a Warlord might use. Not mine.'

And... Fifth. 'For... Something?’ Or everything else. We'd gotten distracted.

But of course Rokals 'Passes the thin slice,' as our Xafra would say. The Captain even seems to try and make sure she's steady before stepping back. Letting her re-dress as she turns to Adelheid.

Rokals reaches a gentle hand out to Klevik and says in a low voice "Hey cutie, If you mention anything you read from the fourth that isn't a threat, I'll have you strung up to feed the avians. And that's not a threat but a promise. He's a good kid."

We worry Klevik will bristle at that, but she just... pauses. Then jerks thumb back toward the table while turning to Adelheid. Says loud enough any hear can hear. "Just the outer layer of armor off, Thresher. Don't need to be as dramatic as that one."

That brings quite a bit of relief to the lad.

"Yes ma'am, thank you." He nods gratefully and quickly goes through the motions. Gets off the armor and sets his hook upon the table before spreading his arms.

His takes even less time, and I can't stop a smug grin and click of tendrils as Klevik seems perturbed that her fourth pulse doesn't seem to detect anything.

Yselda was a cunt, but one who took great pride in never letting others know for sure if she was Half-Knit. Even spoke of letting Threshers examine her just to test her Art.

And after Adelheid is redressed and him and Klevik are moving to stand with the other Threshers, we spread our hands in mock offerings.

"There. Returned with not even a scratch. As promised to any who wish to sit at our table and accept our protections. Now." Lynette speaks to them, twisting Physis to weave cups from the table as we did for the others. "Can we expect the Envoys from Wurzelbrecher and Salzernte to accept this offer of peaceful talks? Or will you sit as some bandits at my table? Testing our tolerances with every breath stolen?"

Adaline steps up, and pours a drink for them both before returning to Xafra’s side.

"Haven't decided yet, girl. I heard from Ithidrii that you're looking into caring for old Dolls. Is this true?" Adze asks harshly.

"Yes." We nod. "My love wants to make their final years comfortable, but also to learn how to help the gaggle Yselda left us."

With a muttered curse he sits and drinks from the offered cup. "Better than anyone else treats those cursed beings. Wurzelbrecher is willing to talk peacefully."

Xafra freezes up beside us, uncertain how to respond to the hostile consideration of this envoy.

"See Adze, you can do it if you try!" Rokals says in a highly amused and patronizing voice.

"Yeah yeah. Make sure you get those documents translated within the month." Envoy Adze responds gruffly.

Quirk an eyebrow at that, but otherwise turn to the last Envoy. "And you, Envoy of Salzernte?"

This last Envoy is a tall one, perhaps the largest here. And... unlike Yselda, bears what is obviously a good deal of years well enough. Short dark hair and a quite nicely tailored outfit. Dull gray eyes that seem to blaze with the kind of annoyance that we don't recognize but... find familiar enough to know his regard for us.

"Unlike these young fools, I'm well acquainted with the stench of Half-Knits weaving a plot." He replies gently, as if his insults are actually words filled with quiet wisdom while he moves to sit. Still flanked by those two guardian Dolls. "I'll drink when the final Oaths of Ousia and blood are woven through the Root Ways from this table. No sooner. And even then I will avoid it if I find them unneeded."

"I'm... so terribly sorry to hear I don't get to share a cup of our fine drink with you. Envoy... What was it? You forgot to introduce yourself to us." We reply.

"Hastle." Is his reply. "Envoy Riddlebark Hastle."

"Wonderful. I plan to ignore you then, Envoy Hastle." We remark and turn to the rest of the table. "We hope you all enjoyed the brew we shared. It's one of the older vintage. Some... Five hundred years old if the logs are right. Didn't even recognize the core ingredient. But we mean our offer of hospitality. Should you be found wanting just... prod at us to oblige our promises. My Warlord would adore the chance to make these talks comfortable and be so ever cross with her Mistress if I didn't allow her the chance to dote on our first guests."

"Warlord. Are you one of those wasteful idiots that bulk up for combat?" Adze asks immediately after we offer.

"No, Adze, That's a permanent Warform. One of the oldest designs I've seen." Rokals mediates.

"Cyrris, I was asking our Host’s... pet, and humoring their bizarre relationship style." He bites out. "As I was saying. Madame apocalypse on the not sufficiently discreet leash. Would you be willing to trade whatever knowledge of permanent Warforms you have with Grove Wurzelbrecher, or failing my Matriarch's good sense, myself directly?"

Xafra looks at us and intones [What is wrong with this man? I can't tell if he wants to hug us or stab us. Or… both?]

[Knowing his Grove? Both. But in a way that one's ribs and spine may snap. His home is... quite the interesting place. Perched on a mountain's side. Cold and such with some of the only safe routes to places outside the Groves. Only visited there.... thrice? I think? They tended to have such odd Threshers that I had little patience to deal with.]

"Envoy Adze. Warlord Endzeit is not my pet. She is our blade. And, believe you me, her leash is aptly sized. I'll be... so ever delighted if you remember that when speaking to her." We reply as tendrils click in amused warning. "But I'm sure she'd love to discuss the sharing of knowledge during these talks if you remain so very polite. I've already offered our dear Klevik knowledge of what Thresher tomes are stored here and such. Would adore open trade with all the Groves. But... that unveils the obvious question of what an Envoy would want with such knowledge?"

And he looks at us like we're blithering idiots. "To share with the Warlord orders and convince them to see reason. Obviously. And my apologies. Is there a... Specific manner of speech I should use for her? I am a crass old man but not trying to offend. Currently."

Xafra giggles in an entirely unsettling way her claws clicking together. "Okay. I've decided that I like you, Adze. No specific way, just know that I defer to my Mistress in matters that affect Sekrhús Estate as a whole and arrangements with other groups."

“And…” We tip-tap talons on the table. "Last I was aware they'd seemed fairly tame compared to other threats. What's roused them to ignore this reason you insist they observe?"

"What in the Divines realm are you on about?" He asks, leaning back.

We blink at him. Take a heartbeat to absorb his curse but... also to reweave words to make sure we're as clear as possible. "I was asking why these Warlord Orders are such a problem, and if it is a sudden change. Our Estate is at the edge of things, and your Grove might be the farthest from us. All our understanding is quite possibly a mix of outdated, laden with bias, or both. And Warlords in general were... never a group I had to pleasure to mingle with more than once or twice. Only visited Wurzelbrecher on odd occasions. Feel free to educate me on this."

His posture relaxes, tension evaporating and a smile forming on his face. "They aren't a problem for anyone else, I'm trying to prevent more idiots dying young by burning Ousia to change their body each time they fight instead of deciding on a Warform and staying with it. It's my duty as an elder to look after the young, even when they're trying to march right into the grave."

"Oh, good. Thank you. Like I said, old biases and teachings led me to assume this was a violent problem." We nod and look to our Xafra. "And... This would absolutely be an Art we could see about sharing as a part of these talks. Everyone should be able to shift to a form they desire without overdue expense. I'd be a hypocrite to claim otherwise."

While we only see Grove Thorn's bristle at that, it's easy enough to feel Envoy Hastle's annoyed gaze.

"Moonscarred idiots. You sit in her presence and fail to notice the most obvious in your hatred. It's pathetic and unbecoming, both of you. Despite looking further from human than a full-bloom denizen, Matron Elevar has more Ousia mass than either of you." Adze scolds the two, snapping his fingers to get the Threshers attention. "What sort of conclusions should an Envoy come to from that, Captain Klevik?"

"Whatever conclusions they choose, Envoy Adze." She sighs and shrugs. "I'm not here to watch over the perspectives of anyone here, just ensure the peace. Keep even the stupid sorts safe. Majority votes will settle things and my order is sworn to honor that."

"Blossom Yselda carried quite the wellspring herself." The Envoy from Thorn snaps back to Adze. "Wormed her way into power with it still blazing. Even without the... unnatural look to them both, the idea of allowing Fleshcrafters the ability to change on a whim at low cost should chill you more to the bone than the snow that falls on your Grove. Even without the well-recorded side effects and the wretched magics the former Blossom worked to perfect, this should be something we stop from spreading from this place without approvals from our Matriarchs. Even only one accepting this will spread the technique like flame upon a dry Root Way."

"Do not presume to understand my priorities. If a single one of Yselda's so called techniques are shared, I will ensure my Grove wages a war of extermination on any who dare to accept them. That being said, if they have a way of relieving the fleshcursed without burning halfspans each or damning them to unlife, I'd sooner empty my wrists into the saltplain then let you interfere with the will of the Divines." At that he drags his right arm along the back edge of one of his axes and lets the blood spill into his cup.

[Mistresses... In my time, that gesture would be threatening a bloodfeud. Is... This man doing such?] Xafra questions in confusion.

Adaline growls at Adze before throwing one of her Curanos packets at him. "You tread on the edge of propriety. Clean and bind your wound, Siden Adze before you make a liar of this one's Mistress."

[Not sure. Probably? He seems the type to openly declare hostilities before striking. Announce fury unending instead of letting a pot stew quietly to dump on a fool's head later.] We reply to Xafra, then say aloud as Adaline steps back. "Not at the Roots within my jungles, Envoy. Even if we lose everything here, and you all elect to see us as no better than the old cunt herself, I'll not have it said we let you or anyone else slaughter each other at a table designed for talks of peace. Regardless of our... agreement to the heart that blood spills from."

Envoy Hastle chuckles without a smile. "Oh, his howl is worse than his bite, Matron Elevar. He's spilt blood... what? How many times has it been now, lad? Thrice now? For me specifically in the past three decades? Came close to killing me only once, and that's because I was curious to how he might try when given a fair chance. Otherwise nothing of terrible value was lost but time."

Rokals puts her hand on Adze's shoulder as he grits his teeth in revulsion at Hastle's last sentence.

He nods, and calmly unwraps the packet then deftly cleans and sews his wound, not spending a drop of Ousia to speed the healing.

While he does that, we turn to Envoy Hastle. "And... am I mistaken? Did you drink from the cup offered? No? Then your words are wasted wind. Watch as you will, cast you vote later in disfavor to us as we all expect, but otherwise be quiet. We've all better things to do then listen to you attempt to provoke a fellow Envoy to doing something incredibly stupid."

Without seeing more than a raised eyebrow from him in reply, we turn back to regard the others. "You bring up a wonderful point though, Envoy Adze. Yselda's Makellose Garrote, more... costly and painful version of Fleshcrafting, and othersuch passions will remain separate from these talks. That is non-negotiable from us as well. Her works died the same day she did. I even mean to..."

Division rocks us, but... we were ready for this. Brace and only pause a second before I continue alone with my sister sighing from aside.

"... To burn everything I can of her name from these grounds, and further still when I can. These techniques are things developed after her time."

"Not the Dolls, of course." I add quickly to Rokals and Adze's look of shock. Tendrils clicking disparate tunes. "Journals and such. Her research. It's all... tainted. Foreword and backways. Endzeit has already gotten the bits she needed from the trove and made something better. The real treasures are things Yselda was too vain and stupid to consider important."

They both go to speak at the same time but with a small smile, Adze gestures for Rokals to proceed. "I think I speak for both of us when I say that we are both surprised and pleased to hear that you are planning on destroying much of that work. It would be a strong temptation for many unfamiliar with Yselda's... Activities to attempt to proliferate such potent weaves and theories."

"Thank you, I... live everyday surrounded by victims of her cruelty. Will hopefully be the last Witch to have laid eyes upon the work. The temptations to use them is nothing compared to the fear of what letting the fruits of those abuses flourish could mean."

"I also, despite my understanding that this will all be difficult to verify, echo their approvals." The Envoy of Thorn adds. "The previous Blossom's work should either be destroyed, or kept sealed away so none may use it. I also ask for an accounting of how you came to this role. Your history and origins, alongside that of Warlord Endzeit. Written and offered for us all to examine. My Matriarch specifically demands this be requested."

"Of course. I can have something written up for you all to read at your leisure." We agree easily. Far more willing to cultivate our past on a page than try and dictate it heartbeat to heartbeat. Prepare our answers to the expected questions in advance.

Rokals laughs. "Shall we all here do that then? I can write up a contract to ensure veracity, and then I can finally learn about your childhood, little thorn... Why not? I presume not a one of us has anything to hide, yes? We can learn about Adze's Eye, you can all learn of my tragic romance with one who turned out to have been a denizen the whole time. We can have proof of Hastle's disgusting obsession with his dead mother and why all his Combat Dolls look like her. Quite fun."

It's... quite enough to make us chuckle to see their reactions to Rokals' vicious remarks. Thorn growing spitefully flush as we even see Hastle's eyes dart to her in obvious fury.

"Honestly, I'd be a touch disappointed if someone didn't ask about that." I interject before either can spit biting replies. "But no contracts please. I need to be able to lie just a little, Rokals. A gerl deserves to keep a few secrets."

Almost flinch at the mistake. Saying 'gerl' the way we adored she did and adopted ourselves. Fully let Lynette keep our tendrils clicking motions from matching my spike of worry. Expect her to huff in annoyance but...

[It's a small enough thing. More a tease to any that knew the old cunt.] She assures me.

Adze sneers at Hastle. "Can't even have the decency to let them pick their own unlife. I look forward to sending my Hounds to cleanse Dämmerung of your Crafters. Rokals public accusation and the other Envoys as witness is enough for me to get permission from my Matriarch. Rest assured, Matron Elevar, I will shed no further blood here, but will delight in doing so after following Griþ and making my way back to Wurzelbrecher Grove."

Adze stands and offers us a short bow. "I will employ some of the Threshers to assist in writing up tentative offers in exchange for the Warform documents, as well as any less wasteful methods of assisting the fleshcursed. I would also appreciate a private meeting, Outside the Sekrhús Estate, before the Vote on your status. Your sharp tongued Doll is welcome to visit my camp as a messenger, or accompanying another if preferred to arrange such a meeting. I will vouchsafe her safety."

We nod, "Thank you, Envoy Adze. We'll talk it all over and reach out within the next day or so about the details. And... do keep safe." Then look to the rest of them, save Hastle. "That goes for all of you, as well. You are our guests, and we'll not have it said we allowed those visiting to trip into violence. This has already been a busy day, and I have matters to see to within my Estate if there are no other pressing concerns?"

Klevik also rises, shakes her head. "Not from me. I'll track down Envoy Presephona and make sure she doesn't miss tomorrow's talks."

Rokals stands third, and with only a small wave, turns and heads out.

And... the rest clear out quick enough. Hastle, Ithidrii, and Thorn's Envoy exit without a word. Guardians and attendants and Threshers soon after. Until only one of their number remains.

"I'm... on watch." She replies to our quirked eyebrow. "In case you need someone to run and call Klevik."

We nod to her, then rise. Wordlessly moving to return to the grounds with our Pack.

** ** **

Jezrial opens the door within two heartbeats of my knock. Looks between us with a raised eyebrow. "Well, you both can heal stupid fast, so I'd never know from looking if it all went alright. Do I have more Dolls to look after?"

"No, the rest were horrid in predictable ways we endured with incredible grace." I sigh back. "I take it Presephona is still unconscious?"

"Like a gerl made of rocks probably should be." Jezrial nods and moves to lead us into her gifted room on the third level of this Spire. "But from what I know about Dolls, her inner rhythm seems stable enough."

"Would you like me to wake her now? I kept her unconscious as it seemed prudent... especially after my rash decision." Xafra asks, unmanifesting her... Plaguewarden form and returning to her regular body.

"Well, that depends." Xafra's mother replies then moves to sit on a stool next to the display case she's settled the Frame in. "She apparently has some information you need to get basically now, if not in the next day. Correct?"

"Yes." I reply.

"And you mean to use either Tone or Garrote to get them?"

I... don't reply for a heartbeat. Lynette and I both a bit surprised by her questions. "Both, actually. We're willing to risk her breaking a bit to make sure her information is accurate. Are... You opposed to this?"

Jezrial purses lips and clicks her tongue while looking down at the former Matron. "Nope... I just wanted you to let me do it. Gift me the ability to use a Witch Tone, even just for this. Let me try my hand at getting this out of her."

"That sounds reasonable, though it's... not something to be gifted, it's just a different way of speaking with Ousia laced around your vocal folds. The ones I have were because... Oh. HUH." Xafra stops and walks out of the room to sit in the hallway.

Jezrial and us share a look, then I walk us out to kneel beside Xafra and whisper. "Yes, love? You were having a thought? Something good I hope?"

"I just realized that I can do a Witch Tone or Warlord voice of my own now if I wanted because I'm... Alive. Really living tissue and not just a sharp metal stick deluding itself into thinking it's more than that." she says with a sense of awe and wonder.

So much of us... twists at hearing that. Oddly so.

Feel my sister grin as she fiddles with something unseen. Those eyes, I suspect. Stowed away within her form for some strange purpose.

"Well then, let's hear it. Weave your Tone and Voice and bathe me in your will, dear one." Lynette purrs, suddenly filling with furious hunger. "The former Matron and your mother can wait a few good heartbeats. I want to see how you sound when untethered from the mess of other’s limitations."

Xafra grins but hesitates, Quills flicking in an obvious enough question to her Pack

We can hear Adaline slide over to Jezrial and mumble something but can't quite make it out while Xafra absorbs the replies.

A murmured reply back to Adaline and a trill of Quills later, Xafra answers, "I will. but after we get this information and sort the things from it out. just in case?"

"Think you'll melt me so easily, dear one?" Lynette chuckles while we rise and offer our Xafra a hand. "Perhaps the bond will tilt things, perhaps... not. It'll be quite the test, won't it? But yes, we will tend to this task first. Ensure our day's deeds are complete."

"I don't know honestly, but I'm... trying to look before I leap. I'm not alone anymore, and those I care about depend on me. So I'm going to be a good and reflective blade." She nods with exaggerated firmness as she takes our hand. "I'm happy with who I am and the family we have. Now let's enable an atrocity so we can prevent others from occurring."

Can't help but grin as we pull her to stand. "And as for your mother's request? I don't mind letting her try, and even keeping the trick of it to make sure this new Doll doesn't do something foolish. Trust that she won't use this to hurt others in anything but an accidental moment. But what are your thoughts?"

"I don't like it, forcing answers out of her, after I twisted her form into a Doll, but I'm committed to it being done. Otherwise I should have just killed her. This way we can ensure your safety and then give her a chance to heal and learn from her actions. Jezrial will be responsible with the technique, I'm certain. And I think it's better if she does it since she's going to be responsible for the Doll."

I nod and pull us back into the room with Adaline and Xafra’s mother. "We agree. Will let you attempt this, and then see to her life from here forward. Trust you to... impart how this is not her end. Or petty revenge, but a new chance she did not earn. This is a compromise of ourselves to avoid the waste of a brilliant gerl who misused her gifts and skills."

Jezrial rises. "Understood. Daughter, feel free to change this form however is needed. Don't guess my running around with Ousia unbound will sit well with most."

Xafra flinches back as if struck, the bond quaking with her discomfort. [Mistresses, do you... Require her to be bound?]

We look to Xafra's mother with... such a scowl. "Please understand the weight of our words, Dear One. You are the mother to our bonded mate. The woman who took her in and was willing to suffer her hatred to protect. Family on these grounds. We do not trust you, but that's simply because we do not understand you and vice versa yet. Which we would like to. Should you like all the abilities Xafra would regift you, simply ask her."

Jezrial hesitates. "I... Alright. If you lot can stand me having some magic bolstered by my daughter's knowledge, that is."

"You assume much to think the Xafra of then held the skills and knowledge to truly threaten the me of now." Lynette chuckles while we motion to our Xafra.

Xafra walks over to Jezrial and hugs her tightly, her wings fluttering slightly against her back as to our Ousia perception, Jezrial's soul core is deftly unspun and held in a delicate grasp inside her rocky form that swiftly becomes flesh, before her soul expands to anchor within her body and Jezrial truly lives once more.

Jezrial seems to... shake. Gasping breaths twist as we all hear what are careful coughs grow into gentle heaving sobs. Hands quickly moving to pull Xafra ever closer. This... normally rough and prickly woman overcome with things she's long learned to smother and ignore. Favoring deft motions untethered from emotions unleashed. Especially as she awoke to be drown within the things that befell her beloved daughter.

We step back, let them take all the heartbeats in the world and refuse to rush them. Offer ::Compassion/Patience:: to our Xafra to ensure she's aware of our assurances.

"Thank you." We eventually hear Jezrial force out past the tears, furious moving to wipe the mess that's been made upon her face. "I... Didn't expect flesh things to hit me so hard."

Our silly Blade giggles at that. "Yeah. The first time you fall off a tower trying to fly has a real impact."

Jezrial laughs, and it's such... a rare thing. Something as unmanaged as the tears she's only just now clearing away. "It really does. I... Give me a few heartbeats and I'll be steady enough. A cold bitch for this little one to break herself upon. Merciful Moon I..." She sucks in a breath, leans heavily on her daughter while closing her eyes. "Ignoring the thousands of years between, I've not fallen apart like this since before I met you, girl. Not since my first dozen deaths in the clinic."

"It's okay to be soft on occasion. That's one of the things we're fighting for, after all." Xafra says quietly. "You've got this. And if you want to talk about it or anything else later, there's those here who will listen."

"Probably will, yeah." She nods, taking a few deep breaths after clearing her face. "But first things first. Let's... wake up this one and see what I'm going to be dealing with."

Xafra smiles again and sends a tiny pulse of Physis inside the Doll, causing the Iphodian gear to stop vibrating and the Doll to awaken.

And... as should be expected, Presephona wakes up screaming.

We've seen many a Doll wake up this way. Both after installation on these grounds and... other times. Can't help but taste some bile as we realize how we've mimiced the old Cunt in this.

But we know better than to do anything but let her howling thrashing panic settle to quiet curled up whimpers. Eyes wide and finally truly taking in the unmoving shapes around her.

Jezrial moves first, carefully. Sits on the stool and asks softly. "So. First things first. What's your name?"

The panic twists to fury, a hard glare jerking between us all before settling on Xafra's mother. "What? I... I am Matron Presephona Arjeska. Envoy to Grove Vesper. Treasured Consort to Matriarch Heskantii. And..."

She looks to her fingers, then glares past Jezrial at Xafra and us. "You will all suffer for this."

Xafra shrugs. "Mother, while I am more than capable of being the big bad monster in this situation, I will leave it to you to decide how to handle your new Doll."

"This one is... I am not..." She hisses, locking a glare on Xafra that then twists to Jezrial.

"She's had a rough day, or so I've heard." Jezrial shrugs to them both, takes a deep breath, and states evenly. Voice dripping with undirected Witch Tone. "So, to make everything clear, Presephona. I'm your Keeper, or Mistress, or whatever polite word you want to ascribe to me. Curanos Jezrial if you wanna be formal. Do you understand?"

Presephona squeezes her eyes shut, soft glimmering amber lips curling into a snarl. "This one understands she has been Dollified against her will. That she has been given to you. And that you will all regret this. No matter how horribly you hurt her."

"Good. Perfect. Let's talk about that, actually." Xafra's mother agrees with a stern look. "Would love to keep from this but frankly you can't be trusted to tell us the truth. So... Tell us about what traps and schemes you laid to hurt Elevar and Lynette, and how best to neutralize them."

Jezrial's Doll squirms and hisses under the focused Witch Tone that her Keeper wields with the precision I'm guessing she applied to her work as a Curanos. Not gentle, but deft. A quick slice directly into the spots needed.

"Fifteen exist. Dolls I... That this one wove that traveled to serve other Mistresses with laden commands to activate upon news of my death or serious harm. Each bears messages and the evidence to inform the Groves of Lynette's past crimes, back entrances to these grounds, and... and..." She fights, hard. But eventually relets and spits. "And three Combat Dolls to haunt the Root Ways. Each bear unstable cores woven to rupture and crack even the largest limb to kill you and your wretched Doll should they find you after I'm assumed dead."

"Huh. Nasty, but good plans." Jezrial nods. "You'll give us a list in a bit, but anything else?"

The Doll shakes her head, half whimpering as she whispers. "No Keeper. Just those. This one will... will write or recite names and locations."

Adaline shakes her head, the bond resonating with a mixture of pity and disgust.

"Nothing else?" We ask.

Presephona only glares at us.

Jezrial considers our insistence for a moment then weaves the Tone into... quite the gentle thing. "Presephona, answer the Matron Elevar’s question."

She flinches at that, worse than when under the demands of the even and hard Tone. "Th- this one... N- Sh- she... N- n..."

"C'mon. Let it out. I don't want you hurting more than needed, Doll." Xafra's mother presses, Tone still gentle.

"O– one other knows. But is not a threat." She hisses through grit teeth. "Won't share or react to this one's disappearance in a way that will hurt you. Is uninvolved."

"Her name?" We ask.

"Not important." Presephona whispers while shaking her head violently. Eyes squeezed tightly shut. Hands moving to cover ears in a useless motion to try and not hear more Tone.

Jezrial sighs and turns to us. "Merciful Moon I don't want to see her falling to more pieces, but also need to see this Chart completed."

"She cares about someone... Heskantii, I assume. Doesn't want us to take her out as well." Xafra intuits.

"Wouldn't be a bad guess. A Matriarch would have all sorts of protections. Also would suspect us the second this one is known as missing. Might even try to reclaim her." Jezrial agrees, looks to Presephona. "Is Heskantii one you told?"

"N- Y- yes." She replies, Frame shaking worse than ever before. "It was... Was my Matriarch. Of course. Y- yes."

"Might this one... speak to her for a moment?" Adaline asks.

"Sure. Will still need to verify everything. But the more the girl fights the worse it'll be." Jezrial nods and stands. Nudges the stool over toward Adaline with her foot.

The former Matron of Dollcraft's eyes lock on Adaline in confusion, then widen as she recognizes my wife.

Adaline walks forward and kneels down beside the Doll. "I dug myself a grave you know? Before Yselda could get rid of my personal effects. Went quite mad for a number of years too, sealed into a Spire all alone, fighting against the Garrotes woven into my core. That's your fault. So... You deserve this, I think, being a Doll. But... I..." Adaline pauses to laugh, "I couldn't use the word I to refer to myself for the longest time. My Mistress Xafra fixed that for me. And... you don't have that limitation. You aren't Garroted even the slightest, nor are any of the standard Doll protocols restricting your capacity to speak, think or act, aside from spellweaving. Your form was exactingly created based on what you desired. Elevar, Lynette, and Xafra are also all united in a policy of not using the Tone on Dolls unless requested. I tell you all this to make it clear that this is not being done to hurt you, but to protect our family. You threatened them by showing up here, blackmail immediately implicit. My sister gravely hurt herself to save your life because of these plans." Adaline sighs heavily. "There's a possible future in which you and your Matriarch are reunited peacefully, but that depends on how you and her act. My Mistress Xafra is vengeance, and she's going to ensure every rusting Doll on Dämmerung has a chance to live happily, even you. Presephona, would you please cooperate?"

Presephona's wide eyes narrow as Adaline talks, gaze only slipping away at the end to move between us all. "She's... This one doesn't care about Heskantii. The Matriarch can choke on whatever venom you'll poison her and the others with. I'll even help you peel apart Vesper like some fruit to do it. But that one is mine. Private. Not important. Barely understands the motions of the Groves. Keep that one out of this and I'll serve better than you expect me to. But this one will not let you use their life as assurances to my cooperations."

"Oh young one, you still don't understand. This is all to protect the innocent, not use them as a threat." Adaline stands and walks back to us, holding herself tightly and whispers "Please don't make a liar out of me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, dear one." I whisper, leaning slight to bump shoulders and even offer a careful hand near hers if she wants it.

Jezrial moves back to sit. "Exactly. I might be bitch enough to do that, but my kid likes to avoid that. Will probably offer help to this person if they're needing it. So...Tell us who this is."

Presephona chuckles unsteadily and shakes her head. Voice seems to grow more... solid, though. Certain. Like she's been working out a problem in her head and just found the answer.

"A mistake, Curanos Jezrial. Someone I let slip parts of my life to. They haven't cared to see me in years. Won't care that I'm gone. Might even celebrate." She hisses through clenched teeth, then looks to us and Adaline. "I'm glad to see you fixed your wife without having to pay me a thing, Elevar. So how about this. I offer you Adaline's original Schema. Instead of this name? Both here, tugged up from my wonderful memory, and the original's location? Alongside everything else."

[Mistresses, if this is her child she's protecting...] Xafra intones with anxiety.

[Warden?] I ask while brushing the knife on our hip. [Would you mind quietly Assessing her responses to our next questions? I'd like to see if our Xafra is onto something.]

Then we take a step forward. "That's already something I'll be demanding of you, so quite an odd thing to barter with. But who is this person to you? A lover or passing flame you hurt? Family that can't stand you? Or... mayhaps a child you brewed or birthed?"

[Warden assessment of Target microexpressions are as follows: Fear at 80% likelihood. Guilt at 63% likelihood. Shame at 46% likelihood. All other emotions are too indistinct for Warden to have confidence in assessing.] Warden answers as Presephona hides a flinch behind her sneer at the question.

"Salt-Guzzling Half-Knit filth." She spits and glares.

"Ah." We nod, both to her anger and Warden's readings. "Well, I may be unable to offer the threats I might have in my younger days. But I can gift you promises. We'll ensure this little one is safe, offer gifts even to ensure their well-being and keep you updated on their life."

Her fury cracks, and she looks down and away. Whispering. "Not so little anymore. None of them are. Just... leave them out of this. I... I won't tell you which knows about you. And if you try to force this I'll make sure I break, and you'll get nothing out of me. Not even the lists of Dolls who will spread your old name about."

[What does of Pack think of this? A good compromise?] We ask. [Or... should we press for the name and location? There might always be wayward child we'll only know is her's if she tells us.]

Quills titter as they all communicate and share thoughts before…

[Good compromise. But I do insist that you correct her misunderstanding. Show off the strength and volume of your Ousia for a moment so she understands how expertly my Mistress Xafra reknit you.] Adaline answers after consulting the others.

We do freeze at that, have to go over her words thrice to fully understand them. And... that she's the one who woven them at us.

Don't respond with the bond though, of course. Cracked and Riven Moon is sharing a message not the same as receiving one.

"I think we can accept this." We murmur gently, "But... Presephona, you don't seem to understand something very important."

Step closer, lean over this freshly woven Doll while we consider how best to... huh.

Cant ::Acceptance/Safety/Education/Peace/Promises Kept:: to her using our Ousia instead of the Physis the method normally entails. Watch as she flinches. Eyes widening in sudden fear.

"Wh- what? But... Th- the Soul Rot!" She sputters. "You were dying. And that was after you tore away half your Ousia for... for..."

"Yes, but we've learned how to gather more as one might harvest fruits from a fresh garden. Then used a new method to shift our form with only a small cost of Physis." We shrug, then turn to Jezrial. "Thank you for your time, and taking care of this one. Call us if she proves an overmuch responsibility."

"Yup. I'll get her to write out those names and locations. Get em sent over as soon as she's done." Jezrial agrees while her new Doll stares gobsmacked at us all.

"Perfect." We agree, take up Adaline and Xafra's hands, then ask them. "That seems settled. Shall we attend to the rest of our tasks?"

"Please." Xafra answers, clearly drained from the day's events already.