Private Spiritus ad Spiritum

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Spirit to Spirit

Location: Katrine's chamber, The Schwartzwald Wearing: This (no mask)
Tag: Aston Jacobs Scherezade deWinter Ket Van-Derveld Satara Hawk Curupira Hawk TiCira D'Arr Hawk Spencer Varanin Quinn Varanin
(If you're family or have bonds with Katrine, you're welcome to feel this in the universe wherever you are and leave a post.)​

Aston squeezed her hand, and Katrine allowed herself to smile at her mate. This felt like a victory in every sense of the word – the spirits had fled, and Wulfram had admitted his defeat. And yet… it felt easy, too easy even.

Ren jumped off the bed, giving her a small startle as Aston asked her if she was okay.

"Yes! That was awesome!" The teenager responded, the joy obvious in her response and demeanour. Her daughter may have been training with her gifts already, but Katrine had never permitted her to use them in combat. In her eyes, her daughter was still so young.

Katrine refused to think about the fact that Ren was only a few years younger than she was when she left home in search of Chloe, went through the black hole and travelled to the past all by herself. She refused to think about the fact that her daughter would soon be that age, and like her, she would wonder and crave adventure because she was so much like her. She was determined to make sure Ren would have her happy childhood.

Unlike the two generations before her, both Katrine and Curupira.

Each of them had been burdened with a life they did not foresee, both losing their childhood earlier than they should have. Each of them had been thrust into the galaxy when they were both children, unprepared for all that would come.

She noticed Larentia's silence all of a sudden as she looked back at Wulfram.

"I will find out the truth of what they are," Katrine finally addressed Wulfram, who had been standing across the room, looking at them. Even if it meant confronting the past she had abandoned, Katrine was determined to discover what her daughter was because of her paternal origins.

The spirit huffed. I know what they are. They are an abomination. He insisted, still without any clear answers.

"No, I will go, and I will learn the truth of how they had stopped being Lupines. The First Mother had no intention of giving in on this. She needed to know what Ren was, more than the spirit wished to. You are foolish. The blood is already contaminated. It had to be stopped.

Ren looked at Larentia in that moment and saw her eyes shift before Katrine did, before Katrine could feel the stir in the Force due to the ichor still strong inside her. Ren reached out for her, giving her arm a tap. When Katrine looked back to see the Warrior of Ulf experiencing a vision again, it sent chills down her spine. Larentia had been touching her daughter when the vision hit; her hand was still touching Ren's hair.

Time felt like it had slowed down from the moment she had looked at Larentia and Ren to when she looked at Wulfram. His form was fading, shimmering as it had roared. She felt powerless as it launched, the ichor dancing through the form, launching itself through her daughter.

Ren screamed as a thousand cuts covered her skin as she fell.

Katrine screamed too – her scream, mixed with Doashim's roar and amplifying through the Force like hundreds of screams all at once. The glass in the room all shattered from the power released, and the floor felt like it was shaking.

Her Force scream echoed outward. Unintentionally, Katrine had released a call out to her own, connected through blood or bonds stronger than time and place themselves. It echoed in pain, horror, and anger. It called out through the Force.

Larentia shouted: "REN!"

Curupira shouted: "REN!"

Their voices seemed to come together in a single, joined scream. They felt distant.

Her daughter hit the floor, screaming in pain.

Wulfram laughed as he disappeared from the room, the sound echoing. Katrine fell to her knees before her daughter. Larentia followed, and Curupira joined them from the bed without her realising. Katrine was trying to heal her, but the ichor in her blood didn't fully leave her even when the Force Scream was released in that moment.​

 

[Satara Hawk]

Location: Singing Mountain Clan Stronghold, Dathomir​

Holding a basket at her side, Satara Hawk gathered herbs for a potion she was making. Over the centuries, the Clan Mother had devoted her life to the family of many she was bound to by duty and craft. The galaxy had changed so many times; she participated in some changes and avoided others, but ultimately, her home was here. Her descendants had ventured into the galaxy, one by one, but she would perish here when the time had come—until then, Satara would perform her sacred duty to her clan.

She picked up a plant, sniffed it, then dropped it into the basket and moved on. It was a specific potion she was teaching Initiates today, and the ingredients had to be fresh. Some dry herbs were already in her pantry, waiting for her.

When the Force Scream arrived, it came as a soft breeze gently touching her cheek, startling her before the full impact of it hit her, striking her like the strongest push. It knocked her off, pushing her back into the leaves. She lost the basket she was holding, forgetting about it as the scream covered all her hearing.

"Katrine…," the Witch whispered.

It was a name that echoed with the scream, like a memory the woman didn't have inside her at all, but somewhere, in the sands of time, Satara knew who Katrine was. She was blood, she was kin, she was family, and she was in pain.

"Sweet child of the Hawk, where are you?" She muttered to herself as she forced herself to sit up, feeling her blood boil with the emotion that came to her—pain, horror, and anger. The child, whoever she was, felt such emotion that Satara could feel it inside her. She could feel the Rage inside her awaken. She could not help; she could not harm those who had harmed her. The Scream had come from so far.

'Help me, Madoc,' the Hawk Matriarch quietly prayed to her mate before the Rage, fuelled by one of theirs, could consume her. Satara lay back down, curled into a ball surrounded by leaves. Wherever the child was, she was too far for Satara to help her.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Somewhere far, far away…

Scherezade was warm and fuzzy. Her hands were around Kael, who had his arms around her as well. Both of them did something she rarely did when he wasn't around, sleeping deeply, sleeping soundly. In the short time they had known each other, Scherezade was very completely and very un-ironically, entirely into him. And it seemed like he was into her. Every time the old fears surfaced, she had so far managed to keep them at bay. This was theirs now. There were no promises made by either of them for the future, even if his cousin had declared her part of the family.

And then it happened.

Not a whisper. Not a tug. A scream. It shattered through her existence like glass hurled at duracrete, pain slicing through her chest as if her heart had been impaled. It wasn't her own. She knew that voice. Knew that bond. Katrine.

Scherezade's body remained still as her eyes snapped open, her breath hitching in her throat.

She was no Seer. Whatever was happening, was happening now. She would not be in time to stop this moment. She couldn't teleport. She was days away from the wolf moon, and until she arrived there she would be as impotent as a piece of meat on her plate.

And still, the Sithling carefully unwrapped herself from her lover and left the room, leaving him to sleep, a small note saying she'd be back in a week or so. Part of her wanted to bring him along. But the rest of her parts knew there was probably no worse idea in existence.

~~~​

"You want what?!" Madalena Antares 's voice was ever so slightly raised. Scherezade knew her twin sister well. It meant that she was effectively screaming at her. But being yelled at by her sister was fine. It was only when the voices began to grow quieter that there was a reason to worry with any deWinter.

"I want you to rip the fabric of the universe so I can get to the wolf moon in the next few minutes," Scherezade answered with a light shrug, as though she was asking her for a sandwich. Or a lollipop, "Katrine and Ren are in danger. They've been on the wolf moon the entire time we've been beyond the edge. I need to go help her."

"That's not what worries me," Madalena sighed, shaking her head, no longer effectively yelling, "You know my control is limited. You could end up somewhere else entirely. Or end up in a different time."

"Different time is good!" Scherezade almost jumped out of her skin, "If I can get there three-four hours ago, that would be magnificent! You can do it, Madsy! I know you can!"

Madalena shook her head. She knew that others thought her sister was a lunatic. In this very moment, she was willing to believe it as well.

"Do you remember the last time I did that?"

"I do. I ended up in a gladiator pit with singing spiders and a Togruta warlord who proposed to me after five minutes."

"Exactly."

"And yet, I survived," Scherezade grinned, though the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Pleeeeeeeease, Madsy. Just aim for the wolf moon. I'll handle whatever's waiting there."

Madalena muttered something under her breath about the galaxy being too small for this kind of madness. But then she reached for her sword, the old one, the one that hummed when it cut through the veil between things. The one she rarely touched anymore, even though it was just a prop, and any other prop would have worked or not worked just as well.

"You'd better not die," she warned.

Scherezade only nodded. There was no joke left in her now.

Madalena didn't answer her sister right away.

She turned slowly, almost reluctantly, and walked to the far edge of the room. It was quiet here, deceptively so. The kind of quiet that wrapped around you like a too-heavy blanket. She hadn't tried this in a very long time. Hadn't wanted to. It wasn't just that it was dangerous. It was that every time she'd done it before, it had scraped something out of her, something she couldn't quite name. Like the universe demanded a price for allowing such transgressions, and it always came collecting. Eventually.

But this was her sister.

She set the sword down first, its metal singing low and deep as it touched the floor. Then she stood still, breathing, eyes shut. She didn't gather the Force, not at first. That wasn't how this worked. This wasn't Force Push or Battle Meditation. This was older. Wilder.

Her lips moved. No sound emerged.

The air around her rippled, like heat rising off desert sand. Dust lifted from the floor, floating in lazy spirals. The shadows of the room pulled closer, like they were watching, waiting. Then she reached. Not out, but through. Her fingers moved in sharp, purposeful gestures, too fast to be elegant, too precise to be madness. As though she were slicing into the very air with invisible blades. The scars on her face began to glow, softly at first. Then brighter. Lines of red carved into her skin lit up like veins of magma, the light crawling up her face in jagged patterns, igniting one by one.

And then her eyes changed.

Where there had been green, there was now nothing. The red of her scars devoured the color whole, leaving her irises black at their centers for a touch of a second before turning a bright white, ringed with molten crimson, like twin eclipses.

The Force groaned.

Not around her. In her. The very strands of it twisted, knotted, snarled around her limbs. She gritted her teeth. A flicker of pain darted across her face, and still she didn't stop.

Light began to bleed into the center of the room. Not natural light. Not sunlight, or starlight, or glow panels. It was something colder. Paler. The faintest hint of green-white leaking into the cracks of the world, like the galaxy itself was resisting her. She twisted her hands again, this time slower, and with both arms raised above her head, she dragged downward.

A seam appeared in the air. Thin. Narrow. Barely wider than the length of a forearm. It shimmered like a mirage, colors refracting along its edges in wrong directions.

Madalena gasped. Blood welled at her nose. She didn't wipe it. The tear widened. It was oval now, a portal that wasn't a portal, opening into nothing yet filled with somewhere. The Wolf Moon. She could see it now. Could smell it, even, ash, trees, the sickly scent of ichor and magic clinging to the wind.

Madalena fell to her knees.

But the tear held.

The scars on her face burned white-hot, then pulsed, slowly fading from red to ember-orange. Her eyes were slow to return. The black lingered too long. Behind her, the rip in the galaxy stayed open, waiting. Madalena exhaled, then looked over her shoulder at her twin. "Go."

She didn't say be safe. She didn't say come back. She didn't need to.

The tear would hold for one. No more. And it would not open again. Not like this.

Not for a very long time.

~~~​

A seam appeared in the air. Thin. Narrow. Barely wider than the length of a forearm. And then it widened, slowly at first but then fast, before it birthed Scherezade, who fell out face-first into the dirt with all the grace of a sack of potatoes.

"Ow," she muttered into the ground, before lifting her head and inhaling deeply. Figaro Favoura VII. She had arrived at the correct place. She didn't know it as well enough as she should, considering her relationship with Katrine and Larentia, but she knew it enough to know this was where she had to be.

But where was she?

It didn't matter.

Another inhale, and she knew where she had to go. The scent of Katrine and Larentia's blood was deep in her nose, and the blood hound suspected others of the line as well, though frankly, she couldn't care less about them right now. She had her targets.

And she set off, using the Force to hasten her speed.

She was only minutes away.

 

[Alwine Bergen]

The river was quiet that morning.

Fog lingered over the waters of Figaro Favoura VII like a veil refusing to lift, clinging to the shoreline with the stubbornness of memory. Alwine Bergen stood on the balcony of the west wing of the old Bergen mansion, a steaming cup of herbal tea cradled in her palms. This part of the estate had been dead for centuries before her husband brought it back to life, stone by stone, beam by beam. He had done it for her. For the family they would raise. For the promise of peace after so many years of war.

Peace had come. For a time.

Now, silence sat differently on her shoulders.

Behind her, the soft thud of feet darting across old polished floors gave away the twins, chasing each other again. Wulfric shouting something about warhammers and Aethelwulf retaliating with a roar of indignation. She allowed herself the smallest smile. The twins were growing too quickly, full of fire and mischief and questions. And love. So much love.

They were her everything. And still, the Force had never let go of her.

It stirred like a whisper in the back of her mind at first. A flicker. A shift. And then she felt it. A surge. Pain. Not hers. Larentia. In truth, Alwine had never dared to imagine what her future would end up holding more than a casual coldness towards Katrine Van-Derveld . She had loathed her after the events on Stewjon, and had only once offered protection to her in a situation, fully believing that if one day, someone would skin the white wolf, it would be her. But times had changed. Katrine had Larentia, and Larentia had become a dear friend of both Athelwulf and Wulfric. Alwine would never deny friendship to her children. And over time… Larentia had become an honorary member of Alwine's household. And through her, what had begun as cold civil attitudes towards Katrine, Alwine had found herself developing respect for the young wolf, and eventually, a sense of reverence. They were not friends. Perhaps they never would be. But there was something between them that even Alwine's wide range of verbiage would never properly be able to put into words, and it was positive.

Alwine dropped her cup. It shattered against the stone balcony, a sharp contrast to the soft sound of waves below. Her breath hitched. She placed a hand to her chest as though she could physically grip the sensation tearing through her. Grief and rage. Fear. And beneath it all, a voice that did not call her by name, but was hers all the same.

Katrine.

She didn't need to meditate. Didn't need to reach out with her senses. She knew. Knew in the marrow of her bones that something had gone terribly wrong.

Her children couldn't go with her. Not this time.

Turning on her heel, Alwine was already moving, her Lupine blood giving her speed and grace despite the stiffness that had settled into her joints over the past decade. She didn't bother to change out of her long night robe, didn't stop to comb and braid her hair. She passed the children's playroom and paused, just briefly, to press a kiss to the doorframe. A prayer. A promise.

Then she was gone.

Into the forest paths that few still remembered how to follow. To the grove where the wind carried whispers, where the Force felt like an old friend waiting at the threshold. She knew the way to the mansion well enough by this point in her life.

And a cry for help had been sent out. This time, Alwine would answer. Not as a former Speaker, not as a servant of Chaos, but as Alwine Bergen, sort of sister to the wolves, and kin to the storm.

And as she moved swiftly, she knew, she somehow knew, that the future of the Lupines would depend on the outcome of the night.

 

[Curupira Hawk]

Location: Katrine's Chamber, The Schwartzweld Ruu, wearing: This Ren, wearing: This​

The battle of the living and the dead had ensued and ended. Curupira held on to her granddaughter throughout it, keeping her safe within her Force Bubble until it seemed the Three Spirits had summoned her to help Katrine. Curupira couldn't hear them; she could feel great forces at work as Ren left her side, making her drop her bubble.

It had worked—Ren's strength seemed to have fuelled their side well enough for the swarm to disperse. The Van-Derveld ancestor was furious with the actions of the other spirits, but a momentary peace had been achieved.

Curupira felt like an outside spectator to the events, unable to wield the ichor and unable to communicate with the Three Spirits. She could see the malevolent spirit, though she could see her granddaughter jump down as Katrine resumed her conversation with Wulfram. She could see Larentia brush a lock of Ren's hair to the side before she stiffened where she was. The corners of her eyes turned white as Ruu pushed herself from the headboard. Ren seemed to have noticed, too, her body moving forward to get the teenager back to her. Despite her inability to connect with the spirits the way Katrine could, Curupira was aware this couldn't have been over already.

Not while the malevolent spirit remained.

He called Katrine foolish and insisted the blood was already contaminated.

Seconds passed slowly as her hand reached out for the girl, not aware of the spirit dematerialising and launching his attack. She did see the currents pass through; her hand stuck mid-air as Ren screamed from the pain and began her fall.

Katrine screamed with the force of many, her Force Scream piercing through her like a massive Force Push and shaking her insides. Her fingers dug into the edge of the bed, holding tightly as it washed over her, the mirrors around them all breaking at the same time. "REN!" Curupira heard herself shout just as Larentia did, their voices coming out at once.

Her heart broke at the sight of Ren, at Katrine's scream, and at the possible outcome.

Curupira jumped off the bed, rushing to the three females without any thought, her golden gaze going through the room. She couldn't seem to see Wulfram anymore, not in his physical form or traces of him. He wasn't here anymore.

Ren had cuts all over her flesh, the red mixing with the green. She was shaking in pain, crying at the same time. The sight in front of her terrified her. It felt so final, so beyond what could be done. Curupira didn't wait, though, using her Healing to try to ease her pain as she concentrated.

 

[Samuel Bergen]

Location: The Bergenfeld Estate​

"Isabella," the man called out to the young wolf in the garden. She looked back at him with her blue eyes. "Be careful." The young wolf whimpered quietly as she ran off towards the woods. His daughter was a teenager now; her transformation had begun a few years ago. Samuel still didn't like her wandering off too far.

The Von Bergens had reclaimed their birthright on Figaro Favoura VII, restoring enough of the Bergenfeld to make it liveable. It wasn't just him and Isabella anymore.

When Samuel ventured to explore the galaxy and the Agents of Chaos, he did so to meet a woman. The sight of her on his holoprojector had inspired her and intrigued him. He had wanted her to be his, and yet, fate would twist and perhaps even punish him by setting her up with his younger brother. Samuel had not expected Godwine to come one day and announce he had married Alwine, all without Samuel realising.

He wasn't happy with how events had transpired—Samuel had wanted Alwine.

Once upon a time, he had murdered Benjamin in wolf rage and claimed the title of Lord Von Bergen, but age had taught him wisdom he didn't once know, taught him that as the Lord of this family, it was his responsibility to take care of them.

And when Godwine married the woman he desired?

Samuel was happy for them. The wolf remained dormant at his behest.

When Godwine died, it wasn't by his hand.

He immediately vowed that his brother's family would remain his own. He would never push them aside, never harm his pups or the woman who had become his brother's. They lived here now, with him and Isabella. His daughter called her cousins family, and he considered Alwine his sister-in-law through the years. The desires had not faded, but the wolf remained dormant and quiet.

Samuel was drinking kaf, taking a long sip of it when he felt something pass through the feld, his body shivering as he dropped the cup in his hand. It fell and shattered, the black liquid spreading over the stone ground. He immediately knew it had come from the Schwartzwald, but he also knew it was not meant for him.

It had passed him by.

At the edge of the forest, the wolf let out a loud cry before he heard a loud thump.

"Isabella?"

Samuel ran ahead immediately, finding her just where the trees began. Isabella was whimpering, her paw gently bloody. He inspected the wound, her paw twitching out of his grasp. It was a surface wound. The best Samuel could muster was that whatever had transpired passed by her as well, startling her perhaps, so that she lost her balance.

When she tried to walk, she limped with one paw, causing her pain when she tried to stand. Samuel picked her up instead, carrying her. "It's okay; I'll take you back in." He paused, with the wolf in his arms, looking into the empty fields ahead. He couldn't see the Schwartzweld where he stood, but he knew something had come to pass. Samuel saw Alwine run, unhindered and unprepared for the day.

Alwine had ties to the Van-Dervelds that Samuel did not.

Her children were not with her, and the man took notice.

The Van Bergen Lord instead carried his daughter inside to tend to her wound.​

 

[Eternal Spark]

Location: Beyond the Veil​

Some spirits never rested, spirits who had achieved their peace but chose to linger close to the veil for those who came after them. Ceta had once known her peace after death but could not rest truly easy knowing that somewhere out there, her mother was still waiting. She had grown up with few memories of her parents, of life before Dathomir.

It had been Katrine Van-Derveld who achieved the impossible, giving her the freedom in death she lacked for centuries. She had vanished from Avarisa; not even her spirit had crossed over into the great beyond.

Ceta had truly discovered eternity then, with her mate, with her children.

She lingered still, appointing herself protector of the Desecrator of Bones.

In the years that passed, Katrine no longer needed her. She seemed to live a quiet life with her family, forging a path beyond Dathomir, fashioning herself the First Mother.

Today, a different day has emerged.

In the beyond, the spirits stirred and remained restless.

Something was coming…

When the Force Scream bellowed through the galaxy, reaching loved ones near and far, it pierced through the veil as well. Ceta was blood kin to Katrine, one who had grown close enough to her in death that she, too, could feel it. The Hawk bloodline shook with the woman's pain, her fear and terror.

A dark fate was befalling her bloodline.

"Katrine," Ceta whispered, feeling it all, trying to push through the veil to see what had transpired, but only shadows danced beyond it. Was death coming for her? Was death coming to their blood? Something was coming; a grand change was occurring – one that would alter their course. Ceta felt it, felt it surge through as if her blood was boiling.

Change was already happening.

Death was pushing through the curtain between life and death.

 

[Larentia Van-Derveld]

This is the story of how I died… and how I lived.​

In her vision, she had been the victim of the attack. She hadn't seen Wulfram dematerialise and didn't see him shoot towards her. The spirit pierced through her, and her flesh opened, cut after cut forming upon her flesh all at once.

Larentia inhaled a deep, broken breath as the vision faded, her vision returning too late – the teenage girl fell to the floor. Her mouth opened, and she knew she had let out a scream, but the Lupine couldn't hear herself release any sound or call to the girl.

The Force Scream that followed shook through her, all the way into her core, but she remained detached, unaware of the shattered mirror. The sound, though... it was deafening to her wolf ears, making her cover them. Larentia could feel her mind blur against the aggressive sound, feeling her humanity slip aside from the pain it caused her.

Only a single thought kept her here… she was going to die today.

Her life, her past, her future – it was all going to end here with the death of a child. The thought was grounded against the sound, but the anger against the monster did not subside as the Scream ended.

Katrine and Curupira had come close to the girl as she gripped her blades. She wanted to end the spirit by herself… did it matter? She would fade away. If Larentia Van-Derveld died today, she would disappear as well. If the girl had no future, then she would have no past.

There would be nothing beyond the life of the girl.

There would be no second Winnoing for her.

There would be no death at the hands of Ket Van-Derveld.

There would only be this moment… when Wulfram Van-Derveld ended her life.

Larentia gripped her weapon tightly, refusing to live this fate. Her hands released the blade, hearing the metal hit against the wood. Each rang through her ears, already in pain from the Scream Katrine had unleashed.

She refused Death in the child's name.

'You cannot,' Jart warned.

'It is possible.' Lylek countered.
​

'Perhaps, little monster, this was your true destiny,' Doashim encouraged, his claws resting upon her shoulder as a silent blessing of the only parent that knew her true origins. 'Today is the day Katrine learns the truth, Jart suddenly declared.

Larentia inhaled a deep breath, this time because a decision had been made, kneeling beside Katrine. "I can save her, Katrine." The natural blonde Lupine looked at her, confused, but she was distracted by her attempt to save her daughter. She didn't want to be interrupted.

"Katrine, let me save her." Larentia tried again, slowly reaching out to Katrine's hand. Healing wouldn't help Ren now; she was marked for death. There was no turning back from that now. Deep down, Larentia felt it, a shift in her memories, some of them seemingly fading. Her past was becoming non-existent with each passing moment. Katrine froze, staring at her. Larentia knew her determination; it was undying.

Katrine should have recognised it – it had come from her.

She moved closer to Ren, touching her face. "I need you to look at me, Ren. Allow me to connect with you, little monster."

It was a term of endearment Doashim had given her many years ago. She had never considered its meaning until today, until Wulfram began to refer to her as an abomination. Larentia had always thought it was meant to be about the spirit, not the monster, but perhaps Doashim had always known the truth about her, which she still didn't.

"Nona, please stop," Larentia suddenly spoke up, making Curupira look up at her. "What did you call me?"

Because today was the day they would learn the truth of who she was.

"If I am to die today, then I choose to do so with you two knowing who I am and why I'm here," her head turned to Katrine. There was little time to waste in these moments. "I was born Larentia Satara Lechner Van-Derveld in the tradition of my maternal family. I came here to save us from a dark future that would befall us. Bring death to us all. I can save her now; I can give her a chance to live her life as she is meant to – I am living proof she is not meant to die today."

Her sapphire gaze lingered for a moment before she ripped the amulet off her, handing it to Katrine. It was proof of the secret kept – a present-day version of this same pendant was in Katrine's possession. The other Lupine took but said nothing.

Her head returned to Ren, seeing her sapphire eyes locked on hers.

"Will I… will I die today?" The girl was afraid. "No, you will not."

Larentia kept looking at the little one, holding her hand.

"Blessed be the blood of the Ceta.
Blessed be the truth of our origins.
Blessed by the power that flows through our veins.
We were born hunters, we were born leaders, and we were born to run free.
We are Ceta; we shall not fall; we shall soar. Powerful, eternal, strong."
​

She concentrated as she chanted, summoning all the power inside her. Not all spells were written until the moment they were needed. This spell was needed today, needed to save a life and to surrender another. Perhaps Doashim was right; this was always her true destiny.

"Bring me the strength of mothers, grandmothers, and ancestors.
Give me the power I need to surrender my life for her, for myself, for our future.
Bless me with the strength of a thousand lifetimes and hundreds of generations.
I call upon the Maiden, Mother and Crow… I call about Ceta. Give us the strength.
Allow me to give my life for this girl, to give her the strength of two in one body."
​

She could feel them there. Spirits, ancestors... they were coming. Not in their physical form, but in the power that began to strengthen her spell, making it possible. Larentia could feel the exact moment her soul left her, inhaling one last shallow breath before collapsing next to the teenage girl…

 

[Satara Hawk]

She lay on the ground still, trying to keep her Rage at bay. It had been hundreds of years since Satara had felt it. When last it had consumed her, the Witch had let the darkness into her heart and murdered her aunts for making her kill her father. They had spent years trying to corrupt her, trying to destroy the goodness inside her.

They had almost succeeded in their attempt.

It had not consumed her, though.​

"Bring me the strength of mothers, grandmothers, and ancestors.
Give me the power I need to surrender my life for her, for myself, for our future.
Bless me with the strength of a thousand lifetimes and hundreds of generations.
I call upon the Maiden, Mother and Crow… I call about Ceta. Give us the strength.
Allow me to give my life for this girl, to give her the strength of two in one body."​

From a distance, she had heard the whispers, the chant of magic flowing through her. A summoning was being conducted from far away, calling upon the bloodline to give strength. She shouldn't have heard it – she was still alive. Yet the ancient ways knew no bounds, asking for more strength than the dead could give.

Satara surrendered, lying on the ground, allowing her magic to flow from her to strengthen the spell. She couldn't tell who was casting the spell, but she knew it was family, for it summoned her, calling upon her to act. She willingly gave.​

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Spirit to Spirit

Location: Katrine's chamber, The Schwartzwald Wearing: This (no mask) Tag: Aston Jacobs

​

'You cannot,' she heard Jart argue.

Katrine refused his counsel, trying to heal her daughter. It wasn't working.

'It is possible,' Lylek opposed him.

She thought less now that it had to do with what she was doing and more with something else that hadn't been revealed to her. Katrine couldn't focus on the spirits now.

'Perhaps, little monster, this was your true destiny,' Doashim made it obvious—they were not talking to her at all. Katrine was never the little monster, not to him, not to any of them. Larentia was. Not her daughter, but the monster's shaman. It was a term he always used with her, and even though Katrine couldn't fully understand it, she accepted that this was his nickname for her.

Her healing still wasn't working on Ren, as her daughter was shaking in pain. The cuts on her skin were an outside manifestation of what Wulfram did to her, hurting her from the inside. She could think of so many ways the ancestor could harm her daughter, but this was the one the Lupine didn't come upon—and it was the most obvious choice. Wulfram was strongest in his spirit form, in his true form.

'Today is the day Katrine learns the truth,' Jart announced.

Katrine didn't have a chance to react to this as Larentia insisted she could save her daughter. She refused to lift her hands from Ren and refused to stop trying. Her mother was right beside her, trying the same thing, but neither could do it. They were both suddenly powerless against what was inflicted on the girl.

The Warrior of Ulf tried again, this time taking her hands away from Ren. Katrine tried to fight as she looked right at Larentia. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was still angry with the woman, but she couldn't think of that right now—she had to save Ren. None of it mattered if she didn't have her daughter.

Larentia looked at her in a way that felt familiar and resolved. She meant it.

Finally, she gave her the space to come closer to Ren, watching the two interact. There it was again—little monster—Katrine didn't understand why Larentia used it now.

"Nona, please stop."

The words startled her, looking at Curupira, then back at Larentia. Why did she call her mother Nona? It was a term reserved for grandmothers and ancestors in their culture. It meant grandmother, but because Satara was still with them and she had no one else to have this part, it was a name Katrine had reserved for the Hawk elder.

She didn't understand why Larentia used it on Curupira now, and neither did she.

The revelation that followed shook her. Their blue gazes met and locked. Larentia revealed, for the first time since she had met her, that her full name was Larentia Satara Lechner Van-Derveld. This was the name she had given to her daughter on the day she was born, disillusioned and haunted by a forgetting spell, that a different future was meant for her. She learnt much later that this was not the path for her and Ren to take, and she never shared with her daughter what her full name was.

From that moment in time, her daughter only held the Van-Derveld name.

Katrine refused to accept and refused to recognise the words given by the Warrior.

It was impossible; it could not have been.

'Is it? Are you not also a child of the future?'

Jart did not permit her denial.

'She has always belonged to us, the monster seconded.

Katrine tried to read Larentia, but as always, she couldn't scratch beyond the surface of who the woman was. She never could see beyond it. There had always been something about her despite it that made her want to trust the other Lupine, accepting her companionship and giving her the mask that once belonged to humans. Larentia was the first Warrior of Ulf, the first wolf protector of the Van-Dervelds.

She had always felt part of her life.

The truth hit her the moment Larentia ripped off the amulet from her neck, handing it to her. Katrine had but a moment to recognise it; she had it in her possession. It was Talzin's amulet, which hid the truth of a person. She had never seen Larentia wear it; the artefact remained hidden with her.

It was not what had startled Katrine.

The moment the item was off her neck, she felt the woman's signature and took in the obvious scent. Each scent in this galaxy was unique to the individual, except Larentia's scent matched that of her daughter.

Larentia was her daughter.

Her daughter was Larentia.

They were one and the same.

"Ren…," she called out softly now to the adult version, but her voice remained silent in the wake of the teenager's question.

Her fear was clear. "Will I… will I die today?" Katrine swallowed, unable to speak. "No, you will not." The adult answered the child.

The chant that followed was unfamiliar, new. Larentia summoned their bloodline, their history, and their origins. She called out to the whole of Ceta, declaring their strength. Katrine stared at her, feeling the power build within the Warrior. It tugged at her as she willed for the strength of mothers, grandmothers, and ancestors to give her the power. Her sapphire gaze met the golden ones, and each of them nodded, reaching their hands over Larentia's, giving her the strength she needed to complete this spell.

She felt them come at Larentia's call, felt them gather within the future adult.

It suddenly became obvious how Wulfram had learnt the truth of who Ren was – Larentia had revealed the truth of herself to the spirit, not realising the harm it would cause. It made further sense that the day she met Larentia, she had witnessed a larger, stronger wolf turning involuntarily and forgetting who she was.

These traits were not of Van-Derveld, so they could only be of Lechner.

Katrine felt the transition, witnessing a blue glow in the sapphire gaze, first in Larentia, then in Ren just before the adult collapsed on the ground beside her. The teenager remained unresponsive, and without thought, Katrine leaned over the adult, brushing her fingers against her face. "Ren, I will miss you as you were," she whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

For the woman she knew was the woman she cared for.

Without knowing that she had loved her this whole time by being her daughter.

Larentia had died just moments before, leaving the body lifeless.

She turned her attention to the teenager next, her palms resting on the girl's face.

"Ren, please come back to me. The spirits surrounded her, waiting for the child to wake, for the spell to truly succeed. Even when Katrine didn't know why everything depended on her daughter staying alive, for them, she knew it was of great importance.

For herself, she didn't know what she would be capable of if she lost her.

 

[Larentia Van-Derveld]

She was dying, shaking against the pain of the cuts opening. She was dying, at the gentle age of fourteen, not having lived at all. All Larentia Van-Derveld knew was Figaro Favoura VII; the only people she knew were mostly in this room. She hadn't seen the spirit come at her, but she felt him go through her, felt the cuts rip through her flesh…

Larentia knew she was dying.

She wasn't alone. Mae was here, Nona was here, Papi was here, Aren was here… she wasn't alone in this room, but it grew colder, their presence more distant.

The girl didn't want to go.

Her mouth parted to speak. Mae, I don't want to go, Ren thought, but couldn't hear herself say those words. It felt hard to speak. She had finally managed to talk when Larentia instructed her to look at her.

"Will I… will I die today?"

It was hard to talk, hard to make the words, but somehow, slowly, she had managed.

The woman promised she wouldn't.

Larentia wanted to believe she was right now, badly, but she doubted she was telling her the truth. Could she make that promise to her right now? Ren wanted to say liar, but the word didn't come out again. She couldn't speak.

She could hear the adults talking, but it was becoming hazy. Ren head her name, no, not her name… Larentia Satara Lechner Van-Derveld. That wasn't her name, definitely not. She wasn't Lechner, but she heard the spirit talk about that name today. He called them an abomination. He called her an abomination.

Ren wasn't an abomination; she was her mother's daughter, the girl settled.

In her defiance, the teenage wolf refused the verdict given.

Then why did he hurt her? Why did he kill her?

Wulfram Van-Derveld had killed her, and she was dying.

Her consciousness began to fade, feeling a pull away from where she was. Something was calling to her, reaching out its hand for her to follow. The other Larentia was chanting words like she and Mae did when practising. She rarely ever heard the adult one use spells like she and Mae did. It felt foreign to hear her chant.

The split second in which Ren closed her eyes, exhaling her last breath.

She didn't wake as the thump next to her indicated to the living that adult Larentia had passed, sacrificing her life so Ren could live. The girl didn't know anything about this.

"Ren, Larentia called to her. Her eyes opened.

They were standing, facing each other, surrounded by smoke and black curtains.

"Where am I? Am I dead?" Larentia smiled at her and took her hands. "No, you are alive. I need you to be strong now, focus and open your eyes." Ren didn't understand what was happening. She was dying.

How was she not dead?

"Pieces of my soul have stayed with you. My spirit had become one with yours so that you may live." Her head shook slowly, confused. "You and me, we have always been one being, Ren. I don't know how the galaxy didn't implode with us being together all these years, but I came here because something dark and scary is coming in my future… I'm sorry; you'll begin to see the truth now in my memories."

Larentia never spoke this much, the teenager suddenly realised.

She was quiet and a warrior; she spoke when she had to, and it was always brief.

This was probably the most Ren had heard her talk.

Ren, please come back to me. The girl heard Mae's voice calling out to her, both females turning their heads to the side. Ren wanted to go back to her and Nona, but she had questions for Larentia, too. "Aren, is my name Lechner Van-Derveld?" She asked the burning one as she looked back.

Larentia smiled softly at her, just as she always did, then nodded.

"Yes. You will see it soon."

Ren swallowed. The only Papi she had ever known was on Figaro Favoura VII with her for as long as she could remember, and she knew his name was Aston Jacobs. She wondered why she had never heard of this other name until now.

"Am I an abomination?"

Larentia visibly swallowed. "I don't know what we are. We've always been different from the rest of the family. I assumed I was different because of him, but I never knew there was a reason for it."

She didn't understand, but the shadows around them began to dance. "It's time; I have to go," Larentia warned her, pulling her into a hug. She held her tightly. "Live, Ren. Live for both of us."

Larentia disappeared mid-hug, and she remained alone for the next few seconds in the veil, unaware of where she was. A vision covered her eyes. ​

He roared in his human form and appeared at her side within seconds. Larentia didn't get a chance to inhale, the blood of his mate dropping from her sword. It didn't hit the bloodied ground before he ripped her throat out. No hesitation, no consideration. He didn't care what she was to him; all he cared about was that in this pointless war of wolves, she had been the one to kill the love of his life… even though she had attacked Larentia.
​

Her eyes opened to the real world then; her eyes rolled back as the vision filled her vision, along with the fear and excruciating pain. The vision felt so real to her, and she knew it wasn't happening now – the vision belonged to Larentia. It was of a faraway future. It was the reason why Larentia had come to them, why she was in her life this whole time.

She was Larentia, Ren settled in the thought as she felt her loved ones around her. Mae was holding her face; Nona was next to her, and Papi was nearby. There were three other presences in the room. She had never felt the three before, but she knew who they were, their presence comforting to her. It was the three spirits of the Mandragora that Mae always spoke about, and Larentia Shaman to one of them. She had never felt them before, but now she was aware of all three being here.

She awakens, the first one spoke.

She lives, complete, the second one added.

Welcome back, little monster, the last one finally added. She felt him touch her arm and winced. The pain caused by the demon wasn't as horrible as the pain she had been feeling this whole time, but the spirit had done something to her. You have been marked again; you have always been mine.

His name was Doashim, Ren recalled from memories that weren't hers.

At last, her eyes rested on Mae, and her whole body rose to hug her, thankful. Ren was happy to be with her. The pain of the cuts felt gone, like they had been healed. They felt like a memory rather than reality now. Mae wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly. "Aren is gone," she whispered, feeling Mae nod against her shoulder. It was true, she took in then. And if Larentia was truly gone, then the final conversation between them did happen, and the vision was real… and her Papi was not her Papi. There was a lot to take in, her young mind trying to process it all.​

 

[Aston Jacobs]

There was much that happened within the span of a few moments it seemed like. Adult Larentia was dead, but lived on through their younger daughter. Truth's had come to light about who she was and who were real father was. But that didn't' change Aston's resolve, as he would always be here for her and always love her as she was his own.

She was his own, no matter what any laws of life stated otherwise.

Aston stood there as he watched the two people that he loved most in this galaxy. He didn't interrupt as this moment was theirs.

Secrets and truths were finally revealed and Aston wondered what would lay ahead. He would face it with the same conviction as before, regardless of what anyone would say.


Katrine Van-Derveld Larentia Van-Derveld

 

[Alwine Bergen]

The stars had blinked out behind her, swallowed by the darkness of the nights she'd been running through.

Alwine Bergen emerged with the stillness of someone shaped by war but tempered by years of silence. She knew where she was. She had chosen to come here. The path had been carved in pain that she could still sense; Larentia's scream across the stars, Katrine's silence sharp enough to cut bone. She had followed it without hesitation. Her children had understood.

Aethelwulf, her daughter, had only nodded. Wulfric had offered her a weaved piece of cloth, smooth, red, warm from the sun. "For luck," he'd said. She carried it still, pressed between fingers now, hidden by her cloak.

The world she stepped into was wrong.

Not visibly, not at first. But something in the air felt… tangled. Not hostile, not welcoming. Just off. The sort of stillness that settled after a great violence, or just before it began. She exhaled slowly. Drew herself upright. Checked her surroundings. No sign of Katrine. No sign of Larentia. No sign of battle, either.

That was… troubling.

Alwine had expected something. Wailing. Screaming. Fire. The rend of pain still echoing through the Force had been too sharp to be a false alarm. Her fingers twitched toward her weapon, but didn't draw. The readiness lived in her spine, a ghost of old instincts that had never quite gone dormant.

She took a few measured steps forward, nose twitching, as if danger had a smell beyond ozone and blood. She caught neither. Only… power. Raw, strained, recent. Something had torn reality here, and it had torn badly.

And there they were. The tiny Lupine looked about the room, taking in the people there, and more importantly, taking in that no one was fighting, about to die, or in the process of unaliving themselves.

Remaining silent, she moved herself to be near Aston Jacobs . He was not actively doing something, so she assumed he would be a safe bet.

"Those two tore rips through the Force," she said, her voice low, knowing the others would be able to hear her even if she whispered, "I left my children behind and came running. You are unoccupied. What has taken place?"

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

A crackle of energy in her wake, a taste like metal behind the teeth, Scherezade exhaled. She had run. Not out of fear, never fear, but from the sheer magnitude of the rip that had clawed through space. She'd felt it scream like a fresh wound in her own skin, and the old instincts had kicked in. Run toward it. Fix it. Bleed if you have to.

But now…

She blinked. There was no fire. No craters. No broken bodies weeping in the sand. Only people. Only quiet. Only the strange, muted thrum of aftermath without war.

She muttered something under her breath in Hutteese, something unkind and suspicious, and stepped forward. Her fingers were twitchy, her skin practically vibrating with adrenaline she hadn't had a chance to spend. Her boots crunched softly against the ground as she moved.

Scents. Kat. Larentia. Kat's mom. Aston.

Alwine was already here. Of course she was. Scherezade could feel the chill iron of her friend's presence from meters away. She didn't interrupt. Didn't speak. Just… hovered nearby. Maybe too close. Maybe not close enough. She hadn't decided yet. The threads that had pulled them both here were still humming, too raw to ignore, too quiet to trust.

She crouched. Touched the ground with her palm. Tilted her head. Sniffed the air. Power. A lot of it. And recent.

And…

A secret had been revealed. The blood had settled.

She thought she had come here to save her chosen sister. She had arrived late, and the duel had already been fought. There was no one to save, no one to protect. Instead of coming to a battlefield, she had come to a… Wake? Reunion? She wasn't sure.

But she was sure that now was not the time to speak. This moment, despite her presence, was a private one.

So the Sithling just crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, waiting for someone to say something.

 

[Aston Jacobs]

"Those two tore rips through the Force,"

"I left my children behind and came running. You are unoccupied. What has taken place?"

"Unoccupied.....far from it...." Aston voiced as he looked down at the two. A hand finally reaching out and was placed on Katrine's shoulder. Give it the gentlest of squeezes.

"What has taken place.....?" Aston repeated as he let out a deep breath and shook his head lightly. While some would call it a victory, there was no victory without sacrifice.


"Sacrifice, at great cost.

Alwine Bergen

 

[Alwine Bergen]

Alwine's eyes darkened as she took in Aston Jacobs 's words. The gentle squeeze on Katrine's shoulder was a quiet, grounding touch in the heavy stillness.

"Sacrifice," she echoed softly, almost to herself. "A word too familiar… but never easier to bear."

Her gaze swept the room, taking in the gathered faces, and briefly resting on Scherezade, who stood quietly nearby. No words needed there. This was not a moment for interruptions.

"No victory without sacrifice… that much is clear."

She sighed, and wished she had something to wrap her hands around. It was moments like these that made her regret leaving her children behind the most, even if it was only for a few hours.

"I will not pretend to understand all that has transpired here," Alwine said, "But I heard the screams, and I have come. So I expect someone will tell me everything," she paused, "preferably soon."

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Spirit to Spirit

Location: Katrine's chamber, The Schwartzwald Wearing: This (no mask) Tag: Aston Jacobs Alwine Bergen Scherezade deWinter​

When Ren inhaled her first breath again, Katrine felt the biggest relief she had ever felt in her life. When her daughter sat up to hug her, she held her like there was no tomorrow. As much as Katrine loved the people in this room, her daughter was the most important person there had been since the day she was born.

She heard her whisper that Larentia was gone. Katrine knew this.

"For you," she whispered back.

The Lupine heard the other wolf speak, not moving away from Ren. Alwine claimed they had torn rips through the Force. Katrine didn't think she was talking to her, though, and chose not to let go of her daughter. The other Lupine had been on this moon for quite some time, building her own life in the Bergen estate. Over time, her anger towards Katrine had dissipated, and a tentative acquaintance had been formed. They weren't friends, but at least Alwine didn't blame her for all that had transpired since they met.

And she was kind to her daughter, unaware of the truth about who she was.

The woman seemed unaware of the conversations of Ren's origins that transpired here just a moment ago, and Katrine was happy for it. She didn't want to share her daughter with her paternal family. Despite the anger Wulfram had displayed in declaring who Larentia was, Katrine still considered her to be a Van-Derveld through and through.

She felt another presence, though, her head rising slightly to see Pebble leaning against the wall. A small smile spread on her face. In a galaxy where all her siblings were gone, having Pebble as her sister was a blessing she happily took, with all the bad history that nearly destroyed them forever, because it was part of their strength. They were both children fourteen years ago, both foolish enough to allow their friendship to break.

Her head moved back from Ren, brushing her palm against the girl's cheek with the small smile still on her face. Alwine and Aston were exchanging words behind her, with the Lupine being insensitive towards her mate, not being directly involved in this. She allowed Alwine to speak once more, addressing the sacrifice Aston mentioned.

"We were attacked by a Van-Derveld ancestor who sought to kill my daughter," the Lupine spoke up now, updating not just Alwine but Pebble as well. "He took issue with Ren's parental origins, because of the history we were not aware of… it seems that some Lupines of the past are no longer Lupine but something else entirely."

It occurred to her then that perhaps Alwine could shed some light on what transpired here, but this would trigger the reveal. Her head turned, seeing the angry wolf only partially. "Have you ever heard of such a thing? Lupines that are not Lupines, but have potentially transformed through the works of science?"

She didn't want to flat-out say the words about her history, but Katrine hoped Alwine would be able to answer questions.

 

[Larentia Van-Derveld]

Aston Jacobs Katrine Van-Derveld Alwine Bergen Scherezade deWinter​

Larentia held on to her mother for as long as she could. It felt like she wasn't just hugging her as her Mae, but with a longing for someone who was gone. She assumed it was Aren inside her. She didn't fully understand what it was that she felt, but the longing for her mother felt undeniable, like a part of her hadn't had a chance to hug her in years.

A familiar voice interrupted, her eyes opening. Alwine didn't speak to her; she spoke to Papi, but it triggered memories that were not hers…

The Lupine wasn't just Alwine, who was always kind and with whose children she played; she was more, Larentia suddenly understood. Auntie, the thought passed through her mind as a small image flashed in her mind. Larentia didn't know just Alwine; she had lived with the knowledge of their connection in one lifetime. It wasn't just her; she realised them – Ren had an uncle in that life and a different father.

She was curious about that life now, seeing the short snippets of memory.

Alwine wasn't the only person who had joined them. Ren could feel her Auntie Rezzie here too. At fourteen, Larentia could pronounce Scherezade; it had become easy over the years, but as a child, she couldn't say the long name, which made her come up with a nickname for her, one that made it easier for the little girl.

Mae moved her head first, her hand touching her cheek for a moment before she spoke up, telling both females about the attack that had nearly killed her. Ren said nothing, taking in the words Katrine chose to say. She questioned Auntie Alwine about whether she had ever heard anything about Lupine's being changed through an experiment but didn't directly aim it at her family. She pulled away then, realising something important – Mae was so against lies, always insisting on the truth.

But she had lied to Ren her whole life and to Alwine.

Why was it okay to lie about this?

"Mae, why was it okay to lie about this?" Ren let out a cry all of a sudden, scrambling to her feet as the revelation struck her, which felt worse than all those cuts to her heart. Ren turned to Alwine instead. "The ancestor said I was born Lechner Van-Derveld. And that Lechners were an abomination. He wanted to kill me because of who my real dad is, Auntie Alwine."

She didn't mean to say it; she didn't mean to call the other Lupine Auntie. She had never done that. The memories she had seen in her mind felt more real than anything right now, so fresh and new. Larentia wanted answers from Mae, from Alwine, from everyone.

Her head turned to Scherezade, too. Her Aunt always knew things. "Did you know, Auntie Rezzie?" She didn't always understand it, but her Aunt always knew things; sometimes she could smell it, sometimes she could read it in the blood. It wasn't the same as the visions that attacked her today; those seemed to just come about when Larentia didn't ask for them, but her Aunt still always knew things.

And not once did Larentia turn to Papi, accusing him of knowing.

 

[Alwine Bergen]

Alwine didn't move when the child cried out. Didn't flinch. Didn't blink. But something in her chest drew tight. Larentia was not her daughter, but to see her in pain caused her pain, in a way that it would with any of her children. Her eyes shifted away from Katrine to Larentia… no, to Ren, who had turned away from her mother to find answers elsewhere. Who had looked to her.

"Auntie Alwine."

The words struck sharper than any blade could. There had been an… Event, not too many years ago. An event that without it, Alwine would now have flung herself into the child's arms to embrace her, to keep her protected, and to tell her that yes, she was her auntie, and yes, she was her niece. But it wasn't to be. Larentia was a child born of stolen truths, of lies, and still from time to time, Alwine discovered another small piece of light, making her believe that the scene would never be properly fully lit, no matter how much they tried.

Alwine inhaled.

She stepped forward, slow, deliberate, crouching a little to meet Ren at eye level as she so often did when the two had to trade words about important matters.

"Ren," she said softly, voice steadier than her insides, and she glanced at Katrine for the briefest of moments before returning her gaze to the child, "You've been wronged. Not by who you are, but by the silence that surrounded it."

She looked full on at Katrine now. It had not been an accusation of their past. It was not anger flinging insults at Katrine. She hadn't felt a need or will to do that in years. It was just acknowledgement of their history together, of choices that had been made. At every turn, each of them had thought they were making the right ones. They hadn't. There were too many cracks.

She shifted her focus back to Ren.

"You are no abomination. There is no blood in this galaxy that can define your worth. Not Lechner. Not Van-Derveld. Not any name etched by those who came before."

She rose slowly. Her expression cooled, but not unkindly.

"As for your actual question…" Back to Katrine. And to Scherezade. "It is a story I believe the lil' to'ryll solen should be telling. She will also be able to field your follow up questions better than I could."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

And just like that, the attention was on her again. Scherezade bit down on her jaw, but didn't say anything. This wasn't what she'd intended. She had come here to help because she thought her sister and her child were in danger, not to hog the spotlight and take attention that so was so clearly needed away from them.

Still. There had to be a way to do it without overstuffing Kat and Ren's (and Aston's, and Ruu's) presence. Scherezade had always been able to find that way in the past, so there was no reason she would somehow be unable to do so now.

But the topic of discussion had just turned into something so… So… So something that she didn't even have a word to conjure inside her head for it. With a sigh, the Sithling went and sat herself on the floor. Close to Kat and Ren, but still a foot away from them, not wanting to intrude on mae-daughter space.

"Story time," she warned them, raising a single finer and clearing her throat. Her eyes shifted to Alwine for a moment to give her an assuring nod, and then back to Ren.

"The thing is, Renfair…" she started, "You can call Alwine your auntie. The ties that bind you together are those of experiences lived and choices made. But if you follow the line of blood, you are not related."

She paused, letting it settle in. She hadn't discussed it with Kat yet. She hadn't been hiding it either, but Alwine had asked her to keep it to herself until she gave the greenlight for the knowledge to become slightly more known. And that time was now.

"Before Alwine and Godwine got married, Alwine had a little weird feeling about it," Scherezade explained, "She asked me to go into her blood and dig deep. If she was looking for something specific, she never bothered to outright say it. You know how she is, all sharp demands and little explanation.

And I did as she had asked. I went into her blood, and I swam deeper than ever before. I scented her not only with my cute nose, but with my Blood Hound senses, and she gave me permission let it get dangerous. And it was. At one point I almost drowned in her blood.

What I found was… Very weird, and soooooo not expected. I saw through Alwine's eyes when she was a newborn, the moment she was clipped away from her mother. And the people who were there… They weren't Ubba and Brigid, those buttholes. They were other people. And then I saw again, and I saw that a baby was taken from a different surroundings, and Alwine, still a baby, was placed in her stead."

It had come as a surprise to all of them. Scherezade didn't know much about Ubba and Brigid, other than how they had treated their children. She didn't know who that baby was, who it belonged to, and why a switch was made. Only that it had.

"But to me," she continued, "Alwine smells like a Lupine. The same way your mae does to me. They're not related by blood, but they are part of the same species. As for the other Lechners…"

Again she sighed. She hated bringing Gerwald up. It had been decades by now, and the only will she had regarding him was to not be anywhere near him, and yet she could not deny that the mere name reminded her of what had taken place all those years ago, and by the Force, it still hurt to think about it. So she rarely did, these days.

"I don't know," she said with a simple shrug, "The last time I saw Gerwald, he was trying to kill me because of what I helped do to the Confederacy. I didn't have the time to do a deep dive, with or without consent."

That didn't mean it was the end of it. The rest though, was not for Ren's ears.

I am willing to scent the blood though, she said to the adults in the room, a vial of any of the Lechner family's blood will be enough. Don't make me meet any of them. I don't want to.

"He smelled Lupine to me though, but my abilities were nothing compared to what I can do today. It's very possible that they came from a line that was Lupine but shifted into something else that was still close enough for me to think it was Lupine at the time."

Which reminded her… No. Not now. She would speak about the key with Katrine when they had private time together.

"But let's say there is something you got from the Lechners that could make you into an abomination, which you certainly are not…" Another offer. Under normal circumstances, this was something she would run by Katrine first. But these weren't normal circumstances, and in Scherezade's point of view, if Renfair was old enough to ask, she was old enough to be given a choice, "I can go into your blood and take it out. But I will never do that unless you ask me to. It will be your choice alone, Renfair. Not your mae's. Not your papi's." She paused, looking at the air. She was a Mandragora no more, her connetction to Jart severed by her own will several lifetimes ago. "Not the spirits' either," she added with sharp tone. She knew well enough how they could be. "Only yours."