Chapter 10
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To Forgive Divine
Eoin found it hard to forgive the Witch, Cailleach, for attacking him unprovoked, as ironic as that was. Eventually however, he was forced to admit that forgiveness, even gratitude, was the proper course of action.
Her lightning spell, the witnessing of which would have, only days ago, made his entire year, frightened the life out of Eoin. That said, it didn’t so much as singe a hair on his head. After all, Eoin was not the target of the Witch’s spell.
After being subsumed in the surprisingly refreshing sparky torrent, the young man noticed the incessant Ticking of the pendulum had diminished, returning back to its steady pulse. Whatever Celyn had done stopped it.
When he calmed down and stuffed his heart back down his throat, Eoin asked:
“What just happened?”
“Something dark, something very dark indeed,” Celyn said in a sombre tone. Though lightning no longer danced in her eyes as she had dismissed the spell, there was an intensity in her gaze that caused Eoin to shrink back in his arm chair as she stood, leaned in close and began looking him over.
She poked and prodded him, taking out odd lenses and sticks from cupboards and probing the young man with them. It took Eoin a goodly while of this odd testing before his inquisitive nature finally, and inevitably, reared its head once more.
“What are you looking for? That lightning you called down, it stopped the Pendulu Mancuni–”
“Pendulus Magicuni,” Celyn cut in the clipped tone of a teacher.
“Pendulus Magicuni,” Eoin repeated, struggling with the unfamiliar words before pressing on, “So you must have destroyed whatever was setting it off.”
“I did,” she confirmed, “But that won’t stop it from returning, if whatever it is can do so. “Hold out your hand,” the Witch ordered in such a tone that Eoin had his hand out, palm up, before he knew what he was doing.
“Owch!” the young man exclaimed, withdrawing his hand from the sting of the pin prick. Cailleach wore her regular stoney expression as she looked through comically large glasses at the drop of blood on her needle.
She did something magical, Eoin could feel it, though he had blocked out that part of his sight for his own health. The young Shepherd desperately wanted to learn magic, and wanted nothing more than to ply this strange, possible evil Witch with questions. Now wasn’t the time however, if he were to be her apprentice, there would be time.
“What’d you do that for?” Eoin asked, sucking on the tiny hole in his finger. She didn’t answer, the result of her working spoke for itself. The blood crystalised, turned black, and began letting off wisps of a very familiar dark vapor.
“I’ve seen that before,” Eoin said, opening the part of his sight that could see the manamus secrets of the world and confirming that it was indeed the same.
“You know what this is,” Celyn asked with sternness, her eyes pinning him in place, not allowing the young man to avoid the question. He felt no inclination to do so, answering freely.
“The other day, me and Reithe were attacked on the road by a feral wolf. After we killed it, with the help of what I think was a wind elemental–”
“A wind elemental?” Celyn asked, with what might have been the faintest hint of surprise, though it was difficult to tell.
“Yes, errmm, you’d know more about this than me. It’s a ball, about the size of my hand, made completely out of some pale glowing light - winds move about it and it seems to be able to use its command over them to attack. It was the one which severed the wolf’s head from its shoulders.”
“That’s strange…” the Witch said ponderously, as she looked off into space - freeing Eoin from her gaze and allowing him a chance to breathe. “That does sound like a wind elemental, though it is strange that it would help you, they’re flighty at the best of times.”
“I think it’s because I helped it with something that connects to what I was saying about the wolf. This blackness that’s… coming off my blood,” Eoin said, suppressing a shudder at the connotations, “It was present when the wolf was killed, rising up like steam from its headless stump.
I also saw something that looked the same when I stumbled upon the wind elemental for the first time. It had a spike embedded in it that looked similar. Say, it 's some kind of dark magic I suspect, why could I see it? Or the wind elemental for that matter? Reithe couldn’t see either and I hadn’t gone through whatever that was yesterday.”
“An awakening,” Celyn informed, “It is not uncommon for someone to see specific instances of magic before an awakening if it's particularly strong or you have an affinity with that type of mana. It’s one of the signs a magic user will look for if they are seeking an apprentice. You might think of it like this: a light is shining bright enough on the other side of a curtain that you get an idea of the shape of its source. Awakening draws back that curtain and lets you see what’s on the other side, unimpeded.”
The Witch proceeded to ask Eoin a series of questions about this darkness that he had seen and he answered to the best of his ability. When she received the young man’s responses she noted them down on some scrap parchment - it looked like it was the only thing she could find to write on after the fire.
Once the interrogation had concluded, Eoin was ignored. The Witch continued doing tests and taking notes. After some time, the young man grew impatient and asked what on earth that black magic meant.
Celyn said that she had some ideas but was uncomfortable saying until she could be sure. When Eoin followed up with more questions, Caileach eventually got fed up and told him to go to bed; he would learn more in the morning.
Eoin tried to unburden himself of the growing weight of questions but Celyn's patience drew thin. She reminded the young man that he had agreed to be her apprentice and as such had agreed to follow her orders without question or complaint.
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With his pride as a Caorah man at stake, Eoin moped like a child as he trudged back over to his bed to snuggle up next to his still sleeping companion.
He intended to stay up all night and watch all the tests which the Witch performed with her endless odd array of gadgets. He fell asleep in seconds, tired from a very long day and having had an unrestful night.
✯
Eoin didn’t dream, his mind was too badly in need of rest. He awoke to a familiar stinging sensation in his rear. Daylight streamed through the windows and by its light the young man caught a glimpse of his attacker before he tumbled off the bed.
Reithe didn’t have his usual expression of smug satisfaction however, instead it appeared he had woken Eoin up for some serious purpose.
The Shepherd was briefly overwhelmed by the new sensations he was open to, until he managed to recall the technique he had used to shut them out. He had to sort of just encourage the parts of his mind which dealt with such things to become catatonic.
Once the throbbing of his head and the spinning of the world had ceased, Eoin leaped to his feet - worried Reithe had awoken due to some kind of attack. That was not the case, or at least he didn’t believe it to be so. Reithe was standing between Eoin and Celyn defensively, the latter of which had returned to sitting in her chair, staring.
Eoin’s heart leaped into his throat at the sight of her intense gaze, he wondered, for a moment, if he had done something wrong and Reithe was trying to protect him from her ire.
ZZZZZzzzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzz
Her snoring said otherwise.
“She sleeps with her eyes open?” Eoin mumbled groggily, not quite understanding what he was looking at.
Reithe nudged him, as if to say, “‘Baa’e quiet.”
Eoin looked at his friend inquisitively, trying to understand what the ram was planning. Once Reithe was sure that he had his friend's full attention, he began stepping slowly and carefully towards the door on the tips of his hooves.
It appeared the sheep’s plan was to leave whilst the Witch still slept. Except Eoin could not leave, he had agreed to Celyn’s punishment, to be her apprentice, and a Caorah man’s word was not something given lightly.
The ram’s attempts at stealth, funny though they were as his hooves kept clopping against the wooden floor no matter how hard he tried, were fruitless. Eoin laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Reithe turned back questioningly and the young man shook his head. The ram looked towards the still sleeping Dorcha with exasperation.
“No,” Eoin began with no attempt to be quiet, making Reithe wince, “If I were to try and escape, we would take him with us, no matter how much of a burden you clearly think he is.”
The ram cocked his head, catching on to what wasn’t said.
“And no, I can’t run away,” Eoin confirmed. The sheep stared daggers into the man, from his perspective, they were trapped in the house of an evil and powerful Witch whose intentions were unclear. For all he knew, she was saving them for her supper.
The ram looked almost panicked when the sound of stretching came from across the room. Eoin, on the other hand, was unfazed, this gave Reithe some level of comfort. Even so, the ram subconsciously manoeuvred himself between his friend and the waking Witch.
It took some convincing to calm Reithe. Eoin explained the arrangement and was corroborated by Celyn, though her lack of expression did nothing to reassure the ram.
Once that was settled, Eoin asked eagerly after the results of the Witch’s tests. There was only disappointment on that front. Apparently she was performing a mana leaching cycle on the sample of Eoin’s blood that she had taken and the results wouldn’t come in until another day or so. The device used to do this looked, to the young man, like nothing more than a small round box - about the size of his palm - though he could sense there was magic about it.
Eoin, of course, asked if there was a way for him to turn down the intensity of the sensations he was feeling so that he might get a better look at the magical device. The Witch's answer was a decisive no.
According to her, it was best to wait a while after one's awakening to try anything with mana, much to the Shepherds disappointment and the sheep’s relief. Reithe held a natural suspicion for anything he couldn’t understand and all this magical stuff Eoin had told him about, and yet he couldn’t see, fell squarely into that category.
Eoin then asked what the plan for the day was, expecting perhaps chores - cutting logs and the like. That was not, in fact, the case. Celyn suspected that this strange dark magic had a connection to the Plague that had caused the other young man’s quest to begin. Magical disease was exceedingly rare and she felt it was unlikely that whatever had infected that wolf, and then apparently him, wasn’t connected to this.
To that end, she had him eat some concoction of herbs that was supposed to destroy anything that remained of this dark magic within his system. Reithe stopped him before he could slug it down, clearly fearful of poison.
The young man reminded his friend that this woman had bested him whilst unarmed, with only one strike - would need had she for poison. Reithe did not find this convincing however and still tried to stop his friend but the young man ignored him - he was bound to follow her orders after all.
Eoin felt something when the potion went down. As the lingering taste of earth and peppermint fizzed on his tongue, it was as if a pressure was lifted from his core, as if a set of invisible claws had released him. There was no visible effect but he felt better for it. After he didn’t keel over, Reithe backed off, though he wasn’t happy for being ignored.
Eoin’s first task as an apprentice was waking up Dorcha. The young man had information about the village the Witch wanted to investigate.
Eoin wasn’t sure how he felt about the other young man. He could understand his position, to some extent. It was an impossible situation, Dorcha blamed the Witch and yet Eoin was now sure she had nothing to do with it. On top of that, he had lied to him, Dorcha had been here before. Eoin could think of a dozen reasons he might have done that, though he would have to ask the other man to know for certain.
Before he approached the other young man, Celyn handed him a silver pitcher that looked to be filled with water and told him to give it to Dorcha if he can’t get past his preconceptions. Apparently, the fluid inside made the drinker compliant, they would follow any instructions for about a day.
Eoin recognised the jug, it was the one which had disappeared from beside his bed. He looked up at the woman with a mix of horror and disgust. She smiled back, the expression looking completely out of place. A shiver went down the young man’s spine, perhaps this Shepeard in black had the right of it. Why would he ever trust a Witch?
Alas, he did. As much as the existence of such a substance scared him, he had to admit that his actions perhaps warranted its use. That said, he was determined not to use it on Dorcha.
He approached the other bed, unsure how to awaken the heavily sleeping man. Luckily, in this area Reithe was an expert. Before Eoin could ready himself, Dorcha was sent sprawling across the floor by the ram.
Reithe looked up at his master with too much pride in his eyes. Eoin sighed and turned to the other man. Much like himself, Dorcha had awoken with a panicked start - flailing about and looking around wildly.
Eoin kneeled to be on his level, looking the other man in the eye, grasping his shoulders and affecting a calming demeanour.
“It’s alright, it me,” Eoin said and continued when the other man didn’t seem to recognise him, “I’m Eoin, the Shepard, I found you next to death the other day…”
“Yes, I know who you are. What’s going on? Where are we? And why does it feel like I’ve fallen and landed with my arse on a rock?” Dorcha said, rubbing at the area in question and looking back at a grimming ram with menace.
What followed were a series of heated words about how stupid Eoin was being and that they should just kill this Witch already. When Eoin looked back at the impassive woman, she only pointed at the jug. Determined not to use that concoction, Eoin felt he had but one resort.
“Dorcha,” he began, earnestly, “I have sworn to help you find the cause of your family's death, and a Caorah man never goes back on his word. To that end, I make an oath, here and now. On my life, this Witch had nothing to do with that plague - she will even help investigate its cause. If I am wrong, I will be honour-bound to take my own life.”
All in the room were shocked.