Ripples ~ Witch Blood
She fell. A stone in the ether, a broken bird with feathers tattered and burned. It was simply too much to stop, to halt, to catch herself.
She'd begun to see it through.
To finish.
There were worlds yet.
And she opened her eyes with a sigh, giving a small nod to the man before her.
Lord Braddock smiled warmly and dismissed the petitioners for the day, only rising when the doors had closed firmly and his wife had come to his side. "They get more interesting everyday" he noted blandly "Equal rights, tales of monsters, mass immigration...what has gotten into them?"
Rachel just shrugged, never moving from her place behind the throne. She knew. Of course the Lords tame Witch knew. It was luck that kept her master wrapped in the embrace of his wife rather than glancing in her direction to note the flame in her eyes.
"Flights of fancy, nothing more" the Lady Braddock soothed, running her fae hands across the Lords wrinkled brow. "They will settle down once more after a few burnings, a few recruitment's..."
"Of course, just the thing!" Lord Braddock crowed happily "Give them something to think about and they'll quit all this nonsense about the witch powers saving them and such. You made sure that man would return home humble I assume, Witch?"
The last, of course, was directed at her, and it took her a moment to raise her eyes from the floor. What was this feeling, as if she'd swallowed a burning ember? This spreading warmth in her breast that screamed of so much injustice? "Aye, Lord. Humble and pious, bound to lead his village to your following"
"Good. Dismissed."
Biting her lip, Rachel bowed, stiff from so much standing and usage of her witchly birthright. Then she fled as fast as propriety allowed one broken and cowed, to the towers. The one place where it was almost safe to relax. It was by no means a sanctum, far from, but a prison for the Lords beloved sister, the Lady Elisabeth. Or Betsy as she bitterly called herself in isolation. It was a gilded cage for the one blooded child who had the temerity to display witch powers as a child, not granted by the Fae, like Brian's, but sheer by polluted bloodlines.
And it was Rachel's home as well. "More reports of the uprisings, Betsy" Rachel called out once she entered the stoney chambers.
"There would be. Our dear Lord and Lady can not chase out blood my dear, no matter how the purebreds and the fae would wish it. We grow in number?"
"Yes. Northsen Province sent people today, to beg protection and arms...they were denied."
"Good, and you imprinted them not to fight?"
"Of course" she chuckled bitterly. Humbled indeed...as the Lord had commanded. So humble in fact the villages and provinces wouldn't lift a hand to stop the growing numbers of witch bloods.
"Good, good. Where are my manners? Sit, eat child...you were there for near a full day. I think cruelty and the fae's influence have tainted my brother beyond redemption..."
Gratefully Rachel sank into her meal, glad to cease talk of war in order to fill her growling belly. It was simple, even rough fare. No better than what the lowest servant ate in a day...but that was just as well. Fine dining was often lost on Rachel, and Betsy had learned to enjoy the simpler tastes in her imprisonment.
"Soon" Betsy sighed over the last bits of bread, flickering crumbs across the table at the younger girl rather than eating them. "Very soon...we've..."
"..only the problem of the Fae left." Rachel sighed, flicking the crumbs back. "Which is ore a wall than a bump in the road, Lady"
"Aye" the lilac haired woman agreed softly.
Rachel's heart dipped in sorrow. She had been certain that her Lady would have a plan to overcome this great challenge but as of yet...nothing. Oddly though, even as her feelings drowned in darkness, flame danced in her hair. The sensation of embers in her belly had returned, and there were oddly scratchy yet soothing whispers through her mind..."The Fae...deal...through Lady Braddock..." she mused quietly, appalled at the movement of her lips even as she knew there ws no harm in the flame laced voice that spoke the words.
It certainly did not escape Betsy's notice that the voice, soft as it was, was by no means young or uncertain either...but bold and rich, though exhausted. "...Aye...?"
"Then I shall deal with the Lady" the voice promised.
"And who would you be, demon?"
"...Rachel Grey." that made Rachel shiver to hear, as certain as the voice escaping her lips was...and yet...that was her own name. Hers!
"Play no tricks demon..."
"No trick, Psylocke. From another time, another place, but I'm Rachel"
"Saints..."
Rachel shook her head back and forth in denial even as the voice continued "I'm only here for a short time...so I shall help as I can. I shall take Meggan out of the fight"
Betsy stood so quickly that her chair fell, here eyes wide and round "You know the Lady's name?!"
"Yes"
Then Betsy sat back down abruptly, sliding rapidly into shock as she eyed her young ward "The Fae give us no names by which to chain them..."
"In another world they did not fear and chain..."
"Lords and Ladies above...you...you do not lie!"
"No point in lying..." the voice noted softly before fading slowly back into Rachel's own. Shocked green eyes stared at Betsy "She...she...wants to go home. She's tired." Rachel blurted.
"She is a blessing, child. A true blessing. You will be our Avatar this battle, so that all bloods may live freely..."
"But Betsy I...she...she can be trusted?"
Betsy just smiled softly and tugged the girl's red hair affectionately "I trust you. Your heart and soul could never hold the Fae's darkness. This, this is of the light!"
Rachel blinked, rolling over emotions and thoughts in her mind, residual traces of the alter-Rachel that had borrowed her body. "Aye, Lady...of the Light" she agreed. Carved of it, flame washed and lost. "Tomorrow...tomorrow we rise."
She'd begun to see it through.
To finish.
There were worlds yet.
And she opened her eyes with a sigh, giving a small nod to the man before her.
Lord Braddock smiled warmly and dismissed the petitioners for the day, only rising when the doors had closed firmly and his wife had come to his side. "They get more interesting everyday" he noted blandly "Equal rights, tales of monsters, mass immigration...what has gotten into them?"
Rachel just shrugged, never moving from her place behind the throne. She knew. Of course the Lords tame Witch knew. It was luck that kept her master wrapped in the embrace of his wife rather than glancing in her direction to note the flame in her eyes.
"Flights of fancy, nothing more" the Lady Braddock soothed, running her fae hands across the Lords wrinkled brow. "They will settle down once more after a few burnings, a few recruitment's..."
"Of course, just the thing!" Lord Braddock crowed happily "Give them something to think about and they'll quit all this nonsense about the witch powers saving them and such. You made sure that man would return home humble I assume, Witch?"
The last, of course, was directed at her, and it took her a moment to raise her eyes from the floor. What was this feeling, as if she'd swallowed a burning ember? This spreading warmth in her breast that screamed of so much injustice? "Aye, Lord. Humble and pious, bound to lead his village to your following"
"Good. Dismissed."
Biting her lip, Rachel bowed, stiff from so much standing and usage of her witchly birthright. Then she fled as fast as propriety allowed one broken and cowed, to the towers. The one place where it was almost safe to relax. It was by no means a sanctum, far from, but a prison for the Lords beloved sister, the Lady Elisabeth. Or Betsy as she bitterly called herself in isolation. It was a gilded cage for the one blooded child who had the temerity to display witch powers as a child, not granted by the Fae, like Brian's, but sheer by polluted bloodlines.
And it was Rachel's home as well. "More reports of the uprisings, Betsy" Rachel called out once she entered the stoney chambers.
"There would be. Our dear Lord and Lady can not chase out blood my dear, no matter how the purebreds and the fae would wish it. We grow in number?"
"Yes. Northsen Province sent people today, to beg protection and arms...they were denied."
"Good, and you imprinted them not to fight?"
"Of course" she chuckled bitterly. Humbled indeed...as the Lord had commanded. So humble in fact the villages and provinces wouldn't lift a hand to stop the growing numbers of witch bloods.
"Good, good. Where are my manners? Sit, eat child...you were there for near a full day. I think cruelty and the fae's influence have tainted my brother beyond redemption..."
Gratefully Rachel sank into her meal, glad to cease talk of war in order to fill her growling belly. It was simple, even rough fare. No better than what the lowest servant ate in a day...but that was just as well. Fine dining was often lost on Rachel, and Betsy had learned to enjoy the simpler tastes in her imprisonment.
"Soon" Betsy sighed over the last bits of bread, flickering crumbs across the table at the younger girl rather than eating them. "Very soon...we've..."
"..only the problem of the Fae left." Rachel sighed, flicking the crumbs back. "Which is ore a wall than a bump in the road, Lady"
"Aye" the lilac haired woman agreed softly.
Rachel's heart dipped in sorrow. She had been certain that her Lady would have a plan to overcome this great challenge but as of yet...nothing. Oddly though, even as her feelings drowned in darkness, flame danced in her hair. The sensation of embers in her belly had returned, and there were oddly scratchy yet soothing whispers through her mind..."The Fae...deal...through Lady Braddock..." she mused quietly, appalled at the movement of her lips even as she knew there ws no harm in the flame laced voice that spoke the words.
It certainly did not escape Betsy's notice that the voice, soft as it was, was by no means young or uncertain either...but bold and rich, though exhausted. "...Aye...?"
"Then I shall deal with the Lady" the voice promised.
"And who would you be, demon?"
"...Rachel Grey." that made Rachel shiver to hear, as certain as the voice escaping her lips was...and yet...that was her own name. Hers!
"Play no tricks demon..."
"No trick, Psylocke. From another time, another place, but I'm Rachel"
"Saints..."
Rachel shook her head back and forth in denial even as the voice continued "I'm only here for a short time...so I shall help as I can. I shall take Meggan out of the fight"
Betsy stood so quickly that her chair fell, here eyes wide and round "You know the Lady's name?!"
"Yes"
Then Betsy sat back down abruptly, sliding rapidly into shock as she eyed her young ward "The Fae give us no names by which to chain them..."
"In another world they did not fear and chain..."
"Lords and Ladies above...you...you do not lie!"
"No point in lying..." the voice noted softly before fading slowly back into Rachel's own. Shocked green eyes stared at Betsy "She...she...wants to go home. She's tired." Rachel blurted.
"She is a blessing, child. A true blessing. You will be our Avatar this battle, so that all bloods may live freely..."
"But Betsy I...she...she can be trusted?"
Betsy just smiled softly and tugged the girl's red hair affectionately "I trust you. Your heart and soul could never hold the Fae's darkness. This, this is of the light!"
Rachel blinked, rolling over emotions and thoughts in her mind, residual traces of the alter-Rachel that had borrowed her body. "Aye, Lady...of the Light" she agreed. Carved of it, flame washed and lost. "Tomorrow...tomorrow we rise."