Fire Foamy

[Scherezade deWinter]

Leritor. She had only been once to this planet, arriving at a masked ball entirely without planning so in advance. Katrine had lent her a dress and a mask for the event, and then she had stumbled into Asteria, her aunt. It was the first time she had been in the presence of another family member since coming out of the pebble. She had been dumbfounded, overwhelmed, and mostly silent. She had been... Innocent.

It seemed like a lifetime ago since that day. Scherezade sat in her cockpit, overlooking the planet. It held no special meaning to her of any kind, despite the happy memory. She missed Asteria deeply, but she didn't feel as though she could just approach her aunt of the blue and ask her to attempt a hug. She knew she needed more people in her life, not just those related by blood. She wanted her mother, she wanted her father, she wanted her brother. She got to have none of them. She wanted her adoptive sister. She could not. She wanted the man she was still in love with. She could not. She had been doomed to a life of solitude and loneliness.

So she took another swig from her bottle.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a little voice told her that it would probably do her good if she cleared the dozens of empty bottles that were strewn around her ship by now. She kindly told the little voice to fruck off. She was grieving. Grieving for the life she thought she had but hadn't, and grieving for the life she thought she would have but would not.

There wasn't much for her to do these days. She mostly drank until unconsciousness took her over, and when she occasionally tried to do something else, it had a bad tendency to backfire on her.

Which was why she had been so surprised to receive an invitation from [member="Petra Cavataio"]. She knew who the woman was, having stumbled into her a few times in the past. She also knew who the woman was, because her grandmother had known her. But they had never seemed to click in chemistry, and she had never revealed to the woman who she was. Scherezade couldn't help but wonder if someone had given her away. If the woman was in league with her grandmother. If she wanted to kill her.

So she just showed up on the planet, wearing her usual jeans and pink t shirt, her combat boots, and the array of knives beneath her clothes. And her bottle. Never forget the bottle.

 

[Petra Cavataio]

It was recently that her meeting with her granddaughter inspired her to see who from one family was around. The deWinters were one family that by choice and little force made their way into her family's bloodline. She was up to two granddaughters and one great-granddaughter that carried on the deWinter's name over the Cavataio. Petra could not really blame them. Angelo's child did grow up without heavy Cavataio influences as the old witch did kill the child's father. The other granddaughter did it more to annoy her mother, an act of rebelling from parents. Nothing odd about that at all. They were family.

Other members of that family like Asteria were on a disregard list in Petra's mind. She saw that one as a reason why her son became weak. That was the past, and her son was now back and training to be the beast she wanted. Also, he was a little reward to her granddaughter for the work she did. Then there were one or two more that were on the same list for different reasons going from not liking to a drug pushing fiend.

Same time, Petra wanted to reach out more but was on sure about who was left. She did cross path with one a few times but never register with her. Busy life and all since awakening. It was a go, go life. Now that she had to slow down for a bit, she went back to look through her month. There was that green eye girl who name was unknown. However, after asking two people, she got a name.

Petra reached out. Gave her temporary stronghold location and an excellent place to land it that was close to her and away from the city. While working with the other witches, scouts let her know a ship had landed and pink shirt drunk was walking around.

The witch told her group to continue, and she left to see a drunk. It took a little time since she was a bit anti-tech. The feel of nature and the flows of energy from it was important. It kept her connected to the universe. Of course with a mindset like that, she too was all natural with just stone and metal jewelry on her wrists and around her neck. Approaching Scherezade, she warmly greeted her. "I am glad you came. Part of me thought you would simply reject my request. After all, we only had a few short encounters that I was a bit dismissive. So curious about what you know that intrigued you to come."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

"I didn't have anything better to do," Scherezade answered in all honesty. She held no position within the CIS, she had no schedule she had to abide by. Sooner or later they'd send her a mission statement and she'd have a few hours to show up. But even these had been getting sparse as of late. She could guess the reason why.

Looking over the woman, Scherezade took another swig from her bottle. The woman's lack of clothing did not truly bother her, but it did feel a little strange. After all, the only person she'd spent so much nude time around was-

Emerald eyes squinted as the waves of pain washed over her. Was she never going to manage to go through the days without thinking about him?

She was also growing more and more resistant to the liquor. Walking in a straight line might have been a challenge, but her mind was still sharp. Her heart still felt the pain with every beat. She could still construct full sentences. And she still remembered. Everything.

Of course, she knew who Petra was. She also knew who Petra was hundreds of years ago. It was all part of the information stored in her mind by her grandmother. The big question though was, was Petra in league with Shery? Was she in danger just by being here? She didn't know. She didn't even know if she'd care. If Petra was going to kill her, let it happen quickly. If not, Scherezade could spend whatever other time she had being piss drunk.

"I know you're Petra Cavataio," she began answering, realizing her previous answer was one to a question that had not been asked, "Uniter of the Clans of Dathomir, High Mother or whatever you call it. I know you were in league with both Shery deWinter and Nessarose deWinter at different times, for different reasons. I know one of your sons is my uncle, though I haven't seen him in over five hundred years. I also know you're sorta crazy and I don't really know what your intentions with me are. And I also don't know if you're my enemy, my friend, or neither."


[member="Petra Cavataio"]

 

[Petra Cavataio]

Petra could not hold it back. She had to laugh. The girl was amusing. The truth about why she really came was priceless, and amusing Petra was a quick way to her great side.

While the girl spoke, the old witch was looking over Scherezade. She was trying to get a flavor of what she would be dealing with. There were some assumes that could be made; however, she was going to hold off that just yet. Even if she was holding back the assumptions, the drink could be only one thing. Petra had that life once. A bottle perma attached to the hand and always drinking it. Since her awakening, she has kept away from those types of drinks.

For the words said, Petra could not disagree with the crazy or intentions. She sort of did not have anything really but meet the girl. Like Scherezade said, she knew her son. That was something the witch did not know. Of course, she pretty much ignored whatever he had said in the past. She pretty much killed him. That was the past so she was moving on.

Of course, the sort crazy Petra had to start with a bad joke. “Well, dear… you look great for being over five hundred years ago… I would have guessed a hundred years old.” Yes it was bad, but Petra was old after all. Continuing on with skipping over Shery and went to Nesa, she said with a bit of cheer in her voice. “Nessa was unique person and she was nice enough to welcome my son into your family. While might have seen your aunt in the best light, he was my baby boy for the longest of times. That’s being a mother… sorry.” Petra was always odd so if the writer was being odd too, it was all good. She kept her smile and cheery tone going. “Now for the intentions and current status between us… we don’t have much family, so never hurts to see extended family and since we are family… let’s say we neither and see where all this go, sounds good?”

Stepping to the side and offering Scherezade to work with her. Adding too, “Please join at my temparory home since we are still building the stronghold.”

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She looked great for five hundred years old? Scherezade blinked. She hadn't really expected that. But it also meant that Petra didn't know, or at least was not letting on that she knew, some of the story behind those five hundred years.

When Petra mentioned "Nessa", Scherezade's mom, the look on the girl's face was all too easy to read. She longed for her mother. She missed her dearly. It hurt to not be able to see her, touch her, not even talk to her, just for one minute. Scherezade wanted her mother and father back, as well as her brother Brayden. There were so many holes in her soul that could never be filled without them, and even temporarily being in Katrine's family had not fixed it. But she was no longer in Katrine's family.

Scherezade had no clue what Petra was referring to about seeing her aunt in the best light. The troubles between her and Angelo were not something that had been known to her grandmother, and had thus not made it to the memories she'd imprinted on her brain.

And the intentions were... What they were.

Scherezade could barely walk a straight line, but she walked it anyway, nodding to Petra. Until a few months ago, a promise of family would have meant a promise of safety. But too many things had happened since then, and she knew that was a false thing now. Petra might be her version of nice for the moment, but it didn't mean the woman wouldn't try to kill her five minutes from now.

Still, the Sithling followed.

"Why do you need to build another Stronghold?" she asked, "I have faded memories of there being a Morte Clan Stronghold on the planet."


[member="Petra Cavataio"]

 

[Petra Cavataio]

That look, oh that heart breaking look of a child missing a parent. Damn if only Petra had that effect on her kids. She thought it would be nice. Then she remembered. She killed them all for her amusement. Not that she really cared or maybe a part was trying to convince herself that.

Walking with Scherezade, Petra’s hand moved behind the drunk woman. It was to be helpful on guiding her and maybe walk a little straighter. This might have been going for the motherly approached or hidden intent. That was up in the air. She actually did not know why she did it. A list could be made. One that would go on for a few days.

“A new stronghold is needed here, if I am going to give my people freedom like we used to have. They need to leave Dathomir and be here. The mandos are backwater idiots that have ruined the people of Dathomir. I need to change it while keeping my people safe.” Petra remarked friendly until speaking about Mandos, there was a bit of hate there.

[member=Scherezade deWinter]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Petra had moved behind her. Scherezade kept looking back, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. She didn't like to be touched. There had been exactly two people she'd been comfortable enough to touch, and for one of them she'd had been so drunk out of her mind for it to even be possible. The only times she touched people who weren't Gerwald was when she had to be a shield and protect them with her own body. But this... Was not the case.

"Please stop touching me," she squeaked after the third time, her body language screaming how uncomfortable she was. She turned around to face the woman, deciding that it was better to stay put than keep being touched. She had her knives with her, but she wasn't drunk enough to think that it was a wise idea to pull them out.

Petra mentioned that the stronghold was needed here as well. Apparently Dathomirians had freedoms? Her grandmother's memories were fuzzy on that. Scherezade knew that her grandmother's idea of freedom were generally not common place. When Shery deWinter said freedom, she usually just meant the freedom to do what she herself wanted, and damned everything and everyone else.

But then came the bit about the Mandos and the young Sithling grinned from ear to ear, even wider when she noticed the hatred in the woman's undertone.

"The Mandalorians are a blight on this galaxy," she said enthusiastically, "genocide would be too kind of a thing for them." She didn't mention that she'd also invented a weapon to deal with their armor. Not yet, anyway. "I've killed a few."


[member="Petra Cavataio"]

 

[Petra Cavataio]

Well now, trying to be helpful with a drunk clearly was not the way. Petra took her hand away but did not say a word about it. If the girl did not want to be touch so be it, and that meant not offering any help if the drunk fell. Then came a chuckle, a random thought about how brainwashing family was the way to go. At least then she could do whatever she desired. Another idea came up right after that almost made her ask who hurt her since the signs were there; however, she was going to hold that off for now.

There was mando chat to focus on. Petra agreed to the blight bit. Sametime, they had their uses in the past. She remarked with a little mix of the past of what she had done and what Shery did before the Sith Empire came knocking at her Dathomirian door so long ago. “Yes, a blight now a days… They were once good little guard and attack dogs when we had them on leashes. Like everything, one gets bored, and another tries to purge their entire world with fire.”

Approaching the stronghold and temporary settlement, the main entrance to the complex had most of it done. The carved structure into the side of the rock stood close to sixty meters high and around thirty-eight meters wide. There were witches on the structure worked on the finer details. Also, a soft purple glow came from the massive doorway because of spells being cast and written on the walls of the tunnel to the main chamber of the stronghold; while two rancors walked in different directions with ease. Besides for show, the entrance had been designed like the one on Dathomir, so their rancors were able to move freely through their stronghold as they were members too.

They were going to go to the right to the houses that were built for the witches and Petra while the stronghold was being built. However, that changed when the rancor coming from the main entrance of the stronghold saw Petra. It roared and caused the other one near it to turn around. Before coming up to Petra and Scherezade.

Both made various noises. It was similar to Wookiees but their own language. Petra could not help but laugh. They knew she loved to be amused, so a lot of them in the herd always started with jokes. She did pipe up, “Now dearies, as funny as that was… let’s keep it a little cleaner in front guests.”

Petra was not sure if Scherezade could understand or not. She actually was not sure what the girl was capable of doing. It did not bother her. Just something to keep in mind when it came to expecting the unexpected. The witch patted on the rancor’s arms. Her tone was even a bit motherly when talking to them. “Now…” Petra looked over at Scherezade, then back to her rancors. Adding, “This is Scherezade… She is visiting as long as she wants. She is Celestine’s cousin, and I know you guys love Celestine. So treat Scherezade the same way with little more understanding and patience. Got it?”

They both replied in their ways of acknowledging they understood. Then Petra wrapped it up with them. “Now, go back to the herd… Before bed, we’ll come and visit with treats.”

Rancors happily replied, and before they walked away, they directed their gaze on Scherezade. They said their byes to her in their way. Then they walked off. Petra looked back to Scherezade, “Are you hungry? I am… are you?”

[member=Scherezade deWinter]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade looked at the people working on the temporary stronghold. She blinked as a memory formed in her head. It wasn't one of hers, it was one of her grandmother's. She'd seen some of Endelaan in the brief time that she'd been there alone, and the people she had seen... Yes, Scherezade knew. She wasn't seeing just witches building a stronghold, she was also seeing the people of Endelaan working on forming the new city around the Forbidden Temple. She blinked again and the vision disappeared, only witches in her eyes now.

She sighed and took another swig from her bottle.

And then there were rancors. Despite her state of drunkness, Scherezade let a little smile out. She loved Rancors. She'd seen them both on Dathomir and... And on Ryloth, where she currently could not go.

"There are rancors on Ryloth as well," she mumbled, looking at the rancors as they walked away, the question about going unanswered as well, "there was a whole ceremony thing and then they showed up. One of them was a special cousin sort of a rancor, too small to arrive with everyone, so it was late, but it was still... It was still strong. He let me hug him."

Another sigh, another swig.

"A little peckish," she said, "we can eat if you're hungry."


[member="Petra Cavataio"]

 

[Petra Cavataio]

Petra led the way to their food pit. As she did, noticed the hint of a smile when the rancors where near. Nothing before was missed to Petra it was best to hold the tongue and move. That was why food was suggested. Same reason of hinting of visiting rancors before the night settled in. Have one watch and focus on one hand as the other was busy doing another thing.

Getting closer, Petra did say warmly, “Did you ever learn to talk and understand rancors? Petra asked but she quickly changed her mind. If Scherezade had or had not, she was adding the next bit to sound a little helpful or supportive. “Even if you didn’t, we’ll eat and talk about the spell… we’ll see if you can do the spell. Then we can go and test it while we spend all the time you want with them. I know they will love a visit from someone other than me.”

They came up to food pit. Four large fire pits with three having large animals on spits. They were slowly rotating and showed they had been picked at by the others in the settlement. Of course, was left went to the rancors. Nothing was wasted. As the three pits had large spits to handle the animals, the fourth had three spits with six skinned yorshis being over cooked. These were for the rancors before they slept. Petra always gave them treats before bed. She spoiled her kids a lot.

There were other witches around. Some had gone down to the beach area was about two kilometers away. Those that were still there. They were drinking and cutting up. Some danced and teased other. It was a time to relax and let their hair down. Petra went over to one of the pits. Grabbing a metal plate and the knife that was resting on them, she looked back at Scherezade. Like a proper host, she was going to get the food for Scherezade. “Have a seat and I’ll bring you a little bit to taste.”

Petra used the knife to wave at the witches to indicate to get them drinks. Then she cut into the beast. Cutting into the leg to get a few strips of meat from it. She also took a little from its back. Squatting down, she scooped a spoon full pod like beans and large red carrot like veggie. The one witch that got up for Petra, she delivered a homemade drink that was close to hundred proof alcohol She sat it down for them and went to make Petra’s plate.

Sitting down, Petra present Scherezade the plate. “Try it, if you don’t like… we’ll visit the resort for a better meal in the morning.” She was about to grab her drink but stopped, “In case you are bored with your boozes, you should try this… An old Dathomirian drink, we never really tell people about it. Some clans have forgotten it. But, it is still good to relax with.”

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She couldn't say that she'd ever learned to talk to the rancors. She knew it was an ability, or a spell, or something, but not one that she had actually mastered at any point. That night on Ryloth seemed so long ago, as though she had lived through two life times since if not more. So she just nodded to the woman, and said nothing. Fun with rancors sounded like fun, but she wasn't capable of fun these days. Fun was for the old Scherezade, the one who ran around the galaxy with big bright eyes and a hug smile on her face. The current Scherezade was... Anything but that. The old one was dead. Long live? No.

When they entered the food pit though, Scherezade froze where she stood.

She'd never been in a food pit before. But she'd seen meat roasted like that once. Because Gerwald had built it for them that first night, after they had hunted together. Their split of the work had been as natural as breathing; she'd taken care of internal organs that were to be eaten raw, and of the intestines so she could make sausages. Gerwald had built the spit and put the meat on it, pausing their other deeds every few hours to go turn it. They devoured the meat the following day and their bodies had sang together in a way that only stopped when...

It took every effort to force herself to walk again, to let her body slump into that chair. Even the smell of the meat was identical. Her body tried to remind her that it needed food and nutrition that did not come from liquor, but her hands would not cooperate. She stared at the plate and the bits of meat that were staring back at her, and she could not touch them.

A drink was offered.

This, she easily took, taking the glass down in a single go. It hit everywhere at once and Scherezade nearly fell from her chair. But for that one instance in which she nearly fell, something else had happened; she hadn't felt anything else.

"This... is wonderful," she gasped, looking at Petra with shiny eyes, "is there any more?"


[member="Petra Cavataio"]

 

[Petra Cavataio]

“Yes there is more, sweetie.” Petra happily replied and that followed with a wave for more to arrive. However, Petra did not want the girl to just drink her weight in booze. She remembered her rock bottom. It ruined her life and took years to recover. This was a deWinter with her and indirectly was a bit of family. That was Petra’s new kick for the moment. Family being important’ish and why some of her children were brought back before leaving Dathomir to setup this stronghold. There were children before her disappearing, but now there were even more. They were just being reminded why they were back.

Smiling and be pleasant, Petra added to her remark. “Also eat, sweetie… you’ll need some food to help handle the brew. Or else you’ll end up like I did before my hibernation.” This was the first time she said her slumber was hibernation. Same time, she rested her right elbow on the table and holding her hand up. Focus on pulling the rejuvenation aspects of the force from her right hand and lower arm, it removed the cell regen always happening with in her.

Hand rotted until bones were showing in a lot of spots and even the bones were cracking. It was like her hand aged fifty years post death. With warning, Petra wanted to point out with maybe a scare tactic in mind. “I was in your shoes and used all sorts of things from boozed to the hardest of drugs until my entire by looked like my hand. I was destroying myself over nothing and took so long to recover after. So how about you eat up with your booze tonight. If you do that we’ll spend all the time you want with the rancors.”

Maybe it was not smart to say but Petra did not want a complete drunk around her kids. At the same time, she let the force flow back into her hand. Her right arm was taken off the table while the flesh began to heal itself. Still she used it to pick up her own food and eat it. There was no care about the state of her hand. It worked so it was used as it returned to normal.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

There was more of the booze. That was a good thing. Good things came to her so little these days, she had every intention of grabbing the ones that came along. Especially in the form of liquor. Petra then told her to eat. Scherezade was hungry, there was no denying it. But every time her eyes went to the roasts, her heart shattered just a little more. She wouldn't be able to eat here, she knew. Even starving, she would not be able to touch any of it. She shook her head. She'd said earlier that she was just peckish, and hoped it'd go over well enough without causing offense.

Red brimmed eyes stared at the hand that turned to bone and rot. Maybe she should have acted surprised, or shocked, or disgusted. But in truth, Scherezade felt nothing at seeing it. Not even the rancors could make her smile now.

With a sigh, her had reached for the glass, and she took a sip from it. "Thank you, but I'll pass," she said, "I'm not hungry after all." Her stomach protested. She ignored it.

Scherezade took another sip. "Why did you invite me here?"


[member="Petra Cavataio"]

 

[Petra Cavataio]

It was a little disappointing that Scherezade would not eat. The brew was strong because Petra had grown used the lower poofs. They upped it to help their deity get her buzz game on these days when she drank. If the girl was passing on food, then when she last ate? That was a thought the witch had. Clearly the person in front of her was a mess, Petra did not want deal with it. She knew of the deWinters being more put together with only one black sheep.

Petra tried to think of what she would do with this one. It would be easier just get her to pass out and put back on her ship. Celestine seemed so capable. Did the norm changed from capable to worthless since she had been away? It was puzzling but games always amused the witch. So, she made one up on the spot. She was going to see how buttons could be push before being attacked.

With a slight smirk, Petra began the game. “I was looking at getting family together… family directly mine and those that had ties to my line. I am preparing for a war and I knew deWinters had a soft spot for killing those I’m planning to kill. But, you are reminding too much of Morgaine and that is pretty sad...” Petra paused to prepare herself for anything coming at her. Spells and force ready to react if needed. She continue, “If this is how deWinters are present day… Shery, Ness and Asteria would be disappointed.” Petra rose to her feet. If something was coming, then she wanted room to react. Yet this game was amusing her. “Oh sweet Goddess me… don’t tell me you are one of those rejects from Jonathan, jon, jay… whatever. I am happy I purged that blood line out of mine family.” Really though, Natalie was a waste until she became a mother. It made her better and her daughter came out better for that change; however, like all Cavataio, they were killed for being Cavataio and not because of the deWinter ties.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

I was looking at getting family together...

Scherezade blinked. Getting family together? Sure, they were related through Celestine, but most people hardly called that family in the grand span of things. Celestine was the only one who carried both deWinter and Cavataio blood, so what was there to get back together? The ties they existed around it were... Weak, at best. She knew, oh, she knew that this was not how things always were. She knew that when her mother was a child, most of the branches of most of the families and most of the ties had been close, sometimes very close. It had been a little ideal community filled with deWinters, Dessels, Cavataios, Centurions, and more. But those days were five centuries past, and things had begun to unfray much before the Gulag. It seemed like the Gulag was just a catalizator, made things happen faster. And now? Now... There was nothing left of the former family glory. And Scherezade was not going to be the person to bring it back, because she was too inferior, and she knew it.

But, you are reminding too much of Morgaine and that is pretty sad...

Scherezade's head shot up. She looked at Petra now, and through the boozy fog, her anger pierced through. There was no tenderness of even humility for her to show at such a horrible thing to say. How dare she?! She and Morgaine were nothing alike! She had actually met Morgaine, and it had scared her chitless. Scherezade was nothing like Morgaine! Scherezade trained constantly, well, until recently, and she was trying to get better, and she was trying to do things. It wasn't her fault she was abandoned, betrayed, and broken. She'd never had a choice in the matter. She had done all she could. She had fought the Darkness, she had broken her mind free of it, only to realize the people who had healed her body while she tried to keep her mind together had done so only to break her again. She had snapped that horrible night. Nothing had been the same. Nothing ever would be the same.

Shery, Ness and Asteria would be disappointed.

Scherezade screamed. Despite how drunk she was, despite the witches' brew in her system, she moved much faster than anyone would imagine she possible could, her hands reaching directly for Petra's throat. She would choke the life out of her for saying that. Knives slid from under her clothes and moved towards the woman too, pointy end aimed at the skin.

She didn't care about Shery. Shery should and would die when Scherezade was strong enough to do it. But auntie Asteria and her mother...

Petra would die for saying that. Whatever else she had to say, Scherezade wasn't hearing anymore. She was going to murder the woman on her own grounds and then kill any witch that tried to interfere.


[member="Petra Cavataio"]

 

[Petra Cavataio]

This was so amusing for Petra to get a reaction from the drunk like this. It had everything she was looking for in her game. As such, the laughter slid out with ease. Petra could not help it. It hit her funny bone so hard. Even if Scherezade was pointing knives and hands around her neck, Petra was loving the energy coming off the girl.

However, Petra was not going let the girl harm her or another like the girl, herself. The next round in her game was going to be a blast for her. Stopping the laughter, the witch got serious and stared at the girl. Her hands were brought up, and they grabbed each arm. Right as she did that, words left her lips. "Clar mintea, dar cloud vedere"

The spell was supposed to sober Scherezade up; however, hallucinations were tied to it. The words were clear the mind but cloud the sight as such Petra was going for understanding the girl. Whatever had the girl going on that made her so self-destructive and triggered before Petra just did, the spell would pull it out in hallucinations. It was needed to get her to see how to get another to assist in her future war.

Then Petra looked over Scherezade's left should and simply said. "Who is that over there?" to trigger the spell. After her question left her lips, Petra released her hands from Scherezade's arms.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Her hands were almost around the woman's neck, the knives were ready to stab her, and all the damned woman did was laugh. Laugh, and cast a spell. Scherezade blinked, trying to understand what it was. She knew Paecan, she understood the words, but she'd never heard them used in a spell and-

And things changed.

Scherezade let go of Petra and flung herself backwards, the memory of the words suddenly vanishing as everything around her turned inky black.

"No..." she whispered in panic, fumbling backwards again, crawling on the floor, trying to get away from it. "No!" she screamed, looking around, the boozy fog of gone entirely, and instead a light of pure fear on her face. She was in the Darkness again. She was in the Darkness again. She was in the Darkness again. How could that have happened? No one killed her, no one stabbed her, she hadn't fallen asleep.

She wanted to scream again but then the people started showing up. Her parents, Aeval, her grandmother... And Katrine and Gerwald last.

Whore!

You are such a weakling, child.

I sold you to Avarisa.
Everyone was in on it.
We totally had you fooled.

Loved, chosen, claimed.

Child, you are the monster.​

You had two people when you entered the Darkness. You will have none when you leave.​

You are SO WEAK!

Kill me.​

I love you.

Unworthy.​

Scherezade screamed again and rose to the floor. One of the knives was still in her hands, but it now transformed. Beyond illusions, but in real life, the knfie went up in smoke and became the Sword of Darkness. Scherezade screamed again.


[member="Petra Cavataio"]

 

[Petra Cavataio]

The glee that the old witch had. All of this was more than she asked for with wanting insight. The sword summoned from what had Scherezade worked up meant it was finger licking good trauma. Petra did not need to know exactly what was happening. The screams and sword had the witch bitting her lower lip.

Petra needed to steer the boat. Also, she needed to stay back from that sword. That was one thing she did not need to end up sticking into her. Signaling the other witches to clear the area, Petra backed up. She needed to add more fuel. Letting the purple ichor rise from the ground, the first spell was repeated. It was an attempt to strengthen the spell's hallucinations. Then the ichor disappeared once it planted the spell again.

Since Petra backed up, the force would have to carry her voice for this one. "Come child... say aloud all your pain. Let it all out and feel it lifting... Like your voice leaving you, the pain goes with it." Did she really want the pain to be gone, who knew but Scherezade. Petra was not trying to fix things. She wanted to hear it. The pain like that would never leave like that. Petra only continued, "Look at the sword in hand... look at the pain before. It was only there to hold you down. You are so powerful that pain had to be used to hold you back."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She wanted to. She wanted to say it all out loud. But her voice caught in her throat. She took another step backwards, the Sword of Darkness still in her hands. They were all coming closer to her, closing in on her. She swung the sword, but somehow tried not to hit anyone at the same time. How could she be in the Darkness again? Why did the Darkness have a difference voice now, not inside her head, but on the outside? Who was speaking?

Her hands were gabbed. Scherezade screamed, the Sword of Darkness becoming a simply knife as soon as it left her hand. She looked wildly to her sides, to see who was holding her. "Mommie... Daddie..." she was crying now. Her parents were holding her. No matter how hard she tried to pull, they wouldn't let go.

There was no strength here. The voice was lying. They weren't trying to use pain to hold her back because she was so powerful. They were all trying to destroy her because she was so weak. The Darkness itself had said it.

Her grandmother came next, caressing her cheek, touching her forehead. Scherezade screamed again. The last time she had done so, she had ended up with nearly a millenia worth of information in her mind. It was part of what had ruined her. She didn't want more. She didn't want her grandmother anywhere near her. She tried to kick, but Shery merely laughed.

And then...

"You really thought you could leave me? Leave the Mandragora?" Katrine asked as she replaced Shery, "you're my sister. You don't get to leave."

"But you-"

"And you're just going to have to deal with it, Pebble. You're one of my possessions, and you don't get to just walk away from it." Katrine smiled that beautiful smiled of hers, looking so innocent, so harmless. She snapped her fingers and Gerwald came. "Now comes the next part in our plan, Pebble. We need more Lupines in the world. On the bright side, you get to sleep with Gerwald again."

Scherezade stared in horror. She wasn't drunk now. She comprehended quickly. This was not something she ever wanted to comprehend. "Katrine... Katrine... Don't do this... Please... No..." But no one ever listened to her pleas in the Darkness. She looked at Gerwald, looked into those eyes that she had so loved to see light up every time he had a new first with her. There was nothing of it there now, just a cold, empty gaze.

"Did you know he was going to choose you?" Katrine asked, "He loved you. He thought he could leave me for you. Isn't that just silly? We both know I'm the better one. I have everything that you don't. It just wasn't a logical choice, no matter how you looked at it. I had to make a few changes in his brain. Isn't spell writing fun?"

Gerwald was gripping her now.

"So new plan," Katrine said, "you already now we claimed each other. And you know I'm not letting you go. This is just another step in my beautiful plan. You're going to give me a Lupine every year, and in return, I let you have Gerwald for... About two minutes, once every year. Don't worry about taking care of the cubs, you won't be seeing them after they're out. How many rounds do you suppose you'll survive? deWinters have monster crazy pregnancies, don't they?"

She could feel Gerwald now. She could feel his touch against her, she could feel his skin, the tickling of his hair and his beard. She whimpered, she cried, she tried to find her voice. She couldn't.

"You're also coming with us to all the parties," Katrine was still talking, "you'd look good with a leash. The Fortressa is lovely this time of the year."

She could feel his lips on her neck now, making moves that were so familiar...

"Gerwald, Gerwald, stop it, please," Scherezade pleaded, trying to move away, but her parents were still holding her. "Whore..." her father whispered in her ear. "Weakling," her mother in the other ear.

there was nothing she could do. She was not a weapon, she was a tool for others to use. Weak. Worthless. Reduced to even less than the nothing she was.

Scherezade closed her eyes and screamed again, this time the scream aided by the Force. She didn't know how long she was screaming. She wasn't feeling the ground beneath her legs shake at it. She just knew she had to make it stop, by any means necessary.

While screaming, she managed to wiggle her hand out of her father's hold. She knew where he was keeping his weapons. Instantly, the sword she took from him transformed into the Sword of Darkness again (but this time, only in the hallucinations). She would rather die than go through this. Just let her die.

All turned silent as Scherezade stabbed her own heart for the second time.


[member="Petra Cavataio"]

 

[Petra Cavataio]

One might ask, ‘so Petra, why not look into the girl mind as she experiences all the darkness for the third?’ and that is good question. For Petra, she had her own demons she was dealing with. However, when tapped in and getting a live feed of a mind. One can’t digest it properly. It is like living your own life; information gets edited and missed. Petra method was for long term understanding. Draining was natural to her and changing to knowledge of the mind would be a breeze for the witch.

Back to Scherezade and Petra, the witch found it all so amusing. The crying, begging and even more sweet pleads made Petra miss her truly old ways. Ones she loved were not immune to the twisted ideas the witch came up with. Those were the days for her. Laughing and carrying on from the girl’s misery, what happen next even surprised Petra.

The girl made a stabbing motion towards her chest. Petra in the moment the girl killed herself. It took another second to replay everything and rensure herself that no knives where in the girl’s hand. Walking over the girl, the force was being focused on her index finger. It was for one act and that act would lead to Petra gaining what she desired. Purple ichor formed around her finger. Reaching the girl, she placed her finger on Scherezade’s forehead. Soft words flowed from Petra, “Istime… Kici he’yah Iha Ble.”

Ichor left Petra’s finger. It flowed from the finger in two directions. Going around to meet in the back, they made a band around the girl’s head. The spell pushed the girl to sleep without dreams. Body and mind placed to rest. Petra did it two more times. Two bands formed above and below the first one that was created. What she had planned there had to be warnings in place. Also, there was the desire to ensure the mind did not dream because she needed a non-active mind to do what she wanted without causing pain.

Summoning her witches and jais back, she had them clear the table and place the girl on it. Time came for Petra, she walked over to the table where Scherezade’s head rested. The bands were strong and accounted for. Each of her fingers were placed on the sides of the girl’s head. Some touching the face, but most were focused upwards. This was a deep focus moment. One that caused Paecean and Sith words to slowly leave Petra’s lips. It was not meant to be the normal way to drain the knowledge out of one’s mind; however, it was meant to be delicate and surgical. Driving in reverse, the memory of the darkness was played back. Dio and Ness was not a surprise. A Gerwald that was cute was new. She might had seen him before somewhere; however, the surprise was the Nightmother. Oh, this was juicy for Petra. Scherezade had envision a Katrine that Petra never met, but if there was a hint this could be brought out. Petra might have new game to play with the Nightmother. This version was more to Petra’s liking than the one she met. The Nightmother was fine and such. They were not enemies. She was actually helping the Nightmother’s witches. It was such Petra’s nature to corrupt people into little monsters for her amusement.

Petra slipped from Scherezade’s mind. One band had disappeared as the witch focused. A thought of waking the girl up appeared for Petra; however, there was the need for allies in the upcoming war she had planned. This time, no words were spoken. Laid her hand on Scherezade’s forehead. The force was focused on the mind under her hand. Reaching deeply, she drew on the memories she gained and began to remove them from the girl’s mind. The darkness was not needed anymore. Also, the reaction cause by Petra insulting her family. They had to be removed. It would be easy to replace and smooth out the memories and mind because the girl was drunk beforehand. Petra had removed the memories up to Scherezade liking the witch brew and asking for more. From there, Petra just made the moments of showing her hand decay and Scherezade asking why she was invited turned into an even more drunken state, then fading it all to black out.

After Petra was done, her hand lifted up. One band left around Scherezade’s head, and it was fading. The memory removal drained the spell. It was still holding. Having a Jai carry the girl, Petra and Jai with Scherezade in his arms found an empty bed. The jai gently laid the girl down on the bed. Petra took a seat in the room. She took a crystal from her necklace and held it in between both of her hands.

Through the night and as the dawn light bleed into the room, Petra had sat there softly chanting into the crystal. It was another spell, but it would be used if the set events did not happen smoothly. She was not certain how a sober Scherezade would be waking up after a full night’s rest. So she waited for the girl to awake naturally.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]