Charlotte had snuck outside of New Albion through the sewer system after preparing herself, it was gross and dirty, but at least she was not to be seen or stopped by the soldiers keeping the people inside, and outside. She wiped away tears, “If Paul is lying, I am going to kill him, wait, he will be dead already. Damn you, Priscilla, why did you do that?”

She shook her head made her way west, on a single rumor of a man she once knew, before she joined the Voodoopunks, if they are alive, they must be in the monastery. I have to try to be positive, Priscilla would have wanted that. She continued her journey and soon reached the forest, she followed the same path that Fay and Byron did, about eight years ago.

Leaves cracked under her boots as she entered the forest and followed a route that only Voodoopunks know about, it led her to a valley, and inside that valley, stood a monastery. Charlotte took a deep breath, and walked forward, when she came closer, she saw, Fay. An older woman now, she is at least fifty years old. Then, Byron walked towards Fay, he is reaching his thirties. Charlotte ran over as she saw him, “Byron?!”

He looked up, his fiery red hair had not dimmed, “Charlotte?”

Fay looked around, “Huh, what is going on?”

Byron looked confused as Charlotte jumped into his arms, he laughed, “Oh my god, it really, is you? What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay safe in your mansion.”

Fay stood up and walked over to her, “How did you even find us?”

“An old friend of mine saw you flee in the riots, I come bearing bad news.”

Fay sighed deeply, “Worse than New Albion burning? We have been in hiding, we would be shot down on the spot.”

Charlotte gulped and started to sob, a lump in her throat. “Priscilla, died.”

Byron’s mouth fell open, “What, my angel? What about Jasper? He was protecting her.”

Charlotte slowly shook her head, “He died.”

Fay looked away and shed a tear, “Goddamn, what is going on in New Albion?”

“The military has taken over, they are shooting people on the spot. Everyone with a doll is being hunted, Dorothy got taken away, we fear she might never come back, or she is lobotomized.”

Byron sat down, his robes billowing in the wind as he started to cry, “Jasper is dead, Priscilla is dead? That, no, I cannot believe that. I always hoped, I would see them again, one day.”

Fay sat down next to him, “Oh my god, what have I done?”

Charlotte focused on her, “What do you mean?”

“Jasper, Annabel, and I plotted this plan, we wanted to bring the Voodoopunks to power and stop Edgar, it did not go as we had planned, if you had not noticed.”

Charlotte took a deep breath, “Look, New Albion is in severe danger, we all live in fear and oppression. It is worse than ever. Soldiers storming into people’s home, shooting them in cold blood. No one has rights anymore, you were right, Byron, you were right.”

He gulped and looked down, “I did not want to be right. Why did you come here, to tell me of such horrible news? Don’t get me wrong, I am glad to see you, we were just taking a break from our card game. What about Jackie, and the other Voodoopunks?”

“Jackie is, as lovely as ever, except, she has a darker side now. The others are in hiding, saving people with dollies. The soldier who entered our home, he refused to fire on Priscilla, he even buried her. He might be the last humane person in the military. But, he will be executed, we want to go to war, to stop the military.”

Fay grumbled, “I barely survived the riots. Annabel sacrificed herself to save me and Byron. Another war, I am not sure if I can take survive that.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Byron looked at her, “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“You did this, even if it was not your intention, I need to reclaim my position as the leader of the Voodoopunks, together we will fight back. We have to fix it. We need to save New Albion, you did this much already, why stop now?”

Fay slowly nodded, “You are right, where do we begin?”

Charlotte fiddled with her fingers, “I must ask for a favor, Fay.”

“Yes?”

“Can we, ask Priscilla to possess you?”

Byron looked at her, “Those rituals are very dangerous, it is just the two of us, with no proper tools.”

Charlotte nodded, “I know, but, you are our leader, if anyone can do this it is you, you survived the riots.”

Fay sighed deeply, “Fine, let’s go inside and do this, I am ready.”

Byron looked at her, “Seriously?”

Fay shrugged, “You deserve to say goodbye to your daughter.” She walked into the monastery.

Byron looked into Charlotte’s eyes, “I am, sorry, for hiding like a coward.”

She shook her head, “It is alright, most of us hid.” They followed Fay, who had put on ceremonial robes.

She pointed, “Come with me, there is a small circular room where we can do this.”

They walked into the room and Charlotte opened her fanny pack, she removed some important items for the ritual. She was hoping for this. She lay them down on the altar in the middle of this room. Byron went to gather herbs and the three of them worked together to prepare the ritual.

An intricately carved wooden doll representing Fay. Beside it, a few candles burned, and a vial of fragrant oil stood ready. A bowl filled with herbs and roots, essential to the ritual, emitted a subtle aroma.

Byron and Charlotte wore simple yet symbolic robes adorned with Voodoopunk sigils. Their attire connected them to the ancient traditions they were about to invoke. Next to playing card games, Fay and Byron made some new clothes and robes.

A rhythmic drum and a small hand-held rattle were the only instruments present. These tools would serve to guide the energy and enhance the spiritual connection during the ritual.

Byron and Charlotte began the ritual by purifying the space. They moved in a synchronized dance, scattering salt around the perimeter and wafting the smoke of sacred herbs to cleanse the energies. Fay sat in the salt circle, cross legged.

Standing on opposite sides of the altar, Byron and Charlotte clasped hands, closing their eyes. They began chanting in a melodic cadence, calling upon the spirits and ancestors to lend their energy to their ritual. Fay had the drum between her legs and did as they had asked. The drumbeat and rattling Fay did accompany their voices, creating a trance-inducing rhythm.

Byron anointed the wooden doll with the fragrant oil, symbolizing the connection between the vessel and the Fay’s spirit. Charlotte sprinkled a mixture of herbs over the doll, infusing it with the essence of the natural world.

With the energy heightened, Byron and Charlotte focused their intention on the wooden doll. They spoke ancient incantations, inviting Priscilla’s spirit to temporarily inhabit the vessel. The drumbeat intensified, reaching a crescendo.

As the ritual peaked, a subtle glow enveloped the doll. The room seemed charged with ethereal energy. Byron and Charlotte, their voices now a whisper, communicated with the spiritual realm, seeking permission for Priscilla to briefly connect with her parents.

With the spiritual stable connection established, Priscilla’s consciousness gently intertwined with the doll. Fay’s eyes briefly flickered, and a soft voice emanated, a fusion of Priscilla’s and Fay’s tones. “Mom, you summoned me, how?”

Charlotte smiled as tears rolled down her eyes, “Angel?”

“Yes, is that, dad?”

Byron nodded, “Yes, my angel it is, what happened?”

“Jasper was, sad, he is happy now, with me, here in Elysium, Annabel is here too, along with a man named Jacob. I am sorry that I left you, but I was lonely, and I wanted to be free, in Elysium. One of the soldiers, he did not fire.”

Charlotte nodded, “That is right, Paul, he wanted to save you, but he couldn’t.”

“I am fine, mom, I am happy now. Dad, it is good to see you again, will you save New Albion?”

“Yes, my angel, for you, for everyone, I want everyone to be happy. I am going back, to New Albion, along with your grandma, who you are now inhabiting.”

“Yes, I can sense her conflicted emotions, loss, pain, love for you, dad. The sadness that she had to kill Edgar. She only wants the best for everyone, to once again, look at a parade.”

Charlotte smiled with glee, “Oh dear, I am so sorry for locking you in that room, I did not want to, please understand, they were hunting for you. For anyone who is related to Edgar.”

“It is alright, mom, I am going back now, to Elysium, where I am free. I died willingly, and now, you will fight willingly to free New Albion, one day I will meet both of you in Elysium.”

As the ritual concluded, Byron and Charlotte expressed gratitude to the spirits. They carefully undid the empowering steps, returning the doll to its inert state. The drumbeat softened, and the room gradually returned to stillness. Fay blinked a few times, “Oh my god, that was, strange. I could not even stop the beat.”

Byron sat down and sighed deeply, “She is truly gone, Jasper too, and if we don’t do anything drastic, then New Albion will fall. I am going back, I have to, with Charlotte.”

Fay stretched and grunted, some of her old bones creaked, “I am coming too. But we still need a way to rally the people to our side, if they fear us, and the military, it is not going to work.”

Charlotte let out a melancholic smile, “Don’t worry, Paul and Jackie got that handled.”