He’s not a pirate captain, he’s a child. It has never been more clear than it is now. He is weak and helpless—painfully, embarrassingly incapable and he’s made so many promises he’ll never be able to keep.
Once again, and as it was expected, arguments soon rose between the coven members. Yet through those arguments, confessions quickly came to light.
Like the fact that Alice recognised those markings, and was forced to expose one of her deepest secrets.
"I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit, that I couldn't save her" she confessed, refusing to meet any of your gazes. "I convinced myself they were birthmarks. Even though she had the same ones"
Jen seemed to connect the dots the fastest. "Wait, are we talking about a generational curse?"
You held back a groan the best you could, and all that was heard from you was a forced sigh.
Generational curses were the worst of the curses and you had been lucky to avoid them in your prolonged life. They were almost impossible to break, their bases so dark it was almost supernatural in terms of power.
While the tensions between the group intensified, you felt a sharp acute pain coming from both your shoulders.
With a loud gasp, you leaned forward; eyes wide open as you felt as if someone had touched a torch right on your skin.
You could not help but hiss and close your eyes momentarily, trying not to let this pain make you lose focus or have you on the ground.
Once was enough, your pride was not going to let you fall victim to it again; let alone let it make you kneel.
"Fuck" you cursed as you opened your eyes, pressing your teeth against one another and watched Alice rush your way.
To her surprise, you lifted your hand and motioned for her not to approach; confusing them group. Mastering all the self-control you had, you brought your free hand, placed it on the shoulder burning the most, and started to chant something under your breath.
White magic was barely noticeable beneath your hand, but a few seconds after, you constantly repeated some sort of mantra; you felt free of the pain, and you could breathe again.
Panting faintly, you looked at your audience; only two were not utterly surprised by your actions. The rest were both curious and slightly suspicious.
"How did you do that?" Alice asked, not expecting to have another protection witch in the group.
"Anti-curse spell. Works on the caster only, " you explained, not daring to check your skin for any marks.
You would deal with them later, when you would be free of any trial related danger.
Jen narrowed her eyes. "An anti-curse spell powerful enough to keep away a generational curse?" She asked rhetorically, clearly not believing you.
You had been honest on that part, feeling no need to lie. You had to give it to Jen for not settling for the breadcrumbs you had just given them.
However, now it was not the time to go into depth how you made such spell work.
Thankfully for you, the trial or the curse were furious with your little trick and chose to attack a different coven member... Teen.
Though this time, there was no burning sensation or anything mystical.
No, this time, something invisible hit the boy with so much force; it sent him flying.
You gasped and placed your hands in front of your mouth as you saw Teen being thrown mid air, smashing through the two way mirror glass of the recording booth and landing outside; right in the control room.
Everyone rushed to check on him, fearing for the worst after such attack; none questioning why the boy was attacked differently than the rest.
Thankfully, Teen was alright or at least not critically injured. He was even smiling faintly as he noticed almost everyone surrounding him; Jen having chosen to stay in the protective circle.
"Hey." He greeted weakly. "I got attacked by the curse. Does that mean I'm part of the coven?"
His innocent question made you smile faintly, relieved that he was okay. You slowly helped him to stand up, carefully ensuring he would not collapse any moment now.
"Blessings and burdens alike." You told him, seeing his naive little smile growing.
As you all gathered back in the recording booth, you started to discuss how to deal with this curse; the time on the metronome continuing ticking but this time you didn't know just how much Time you had been left.
In the end, by inspecting the broken record; a solution was found. Since the curse came from the record played backwards, the only way to battle it is to play the song normally.
Ironically, the song was none other than the Ballad of the Witches Road; sang by none other than Alice's mother, Lorna Wu.
Also, the genius mind of Agatha made the ultimate deduction.
"What did Lorna want from The Road? What was her intention? To save her daughter. You should have burnt to a crisp years ago, but here you are. Sullen and aimless, but alive. That's because at any given moment somewhere, someone is playing that song that you hate so much. Lorna's Ballad is a protection spell. It protected you."
Agatha's words seemed to bypass any of Alice's defenses, trying to win her over and give her the courage to play the song. Every member of the coven had to participate and since that trial was related to her mother, Alice was the centre of it all.
At Agatha's words, you could not help but glance to the ground momentarily. Hearing of Lorna's love for her daughter, going as far as to create a song spell to save her daughter... it made your heart ache.
You barely knew your mother, anything about her a distant and blurry memory at the very back of your mind. At least your birth mother, that is.
You did not have a motherly figure in your life, many witches doing the bare minimum to help you, but none wished to get attached to you; even though you were a little orphan girl.
Perhaps this was what had attracted you to Agatha in the first place. Being older than you and actually interested in being part of your life, had made you form an incredible bond with her; even if someone might argue this bond was one way.
Sometimes, though, you did wish to know more.
To know if this woman you had called your mother as a child, ghe very same one tht had chosen to look after and raise you, would have done something similar to protect you, rather than leaving through the door one morning and letting you wake up alone to an empty house.
You had never managed to find her again, and as for your birth mother, you had done a lot of research and got some answere; though you wouldn't mind to know more.
However, you feared it would not be possible; not with your situation.
Feeling a pair of eyes, you dared to search for them; only to see Agatha studying you. It was her turn to read through your fake mask and read your intentions, the topic of a mother hard to both of you; for different reasons.
Trying to look the other way, you were caught by Rio. She seemed to be intensely staring at you, though her gaze was soft; and you could swear you saw something that looked like sympathy or even regret.
"So," you cleared your throat. "Who plays what?" You asked, hoping to change the topic and also remind everyone that the metronome was still ticking.
"Okay, who's good on piano? Lilia?" Agatha asked, driving to take the lead since no one else was willing to do so.
"No. No, I studied the zils." The older witch argued. "And a little pan flute."
Defeated, Agatha turned to the other witch. "Jen."
"Ballet."
"Oh, come on, guys!" She groaned, not believing they were in such situation.
Their lives were depending on a stupid song, and no one seemed to have any music experience.
"I play guitar. Sort of." Teen informed a little shyly.
You chose to join. "I also do"
Your words made Agatha stare at you with an arched eyebrow. Her expression was literally screaming 'since when?'
You offered her a plain simple smile, unable to explain to her that you learnt Guitar during a difficult new moon; and then you kept it as a hobby.
Agatha did not comment about it but you could see the twinkle of interest in her blue eyes. When all of this was done and you had reached the end of the road, she would definitely ask you more about it; perhaps even make you play something for her.
Definitely not the Ballad of the Witches Road.
After some discussion that almost led to a argument between Jen and Agatha; you all found your respective instruments.
Rio had the drums, Alice the piano, Jen the Bass, Lilia the Zils (surprising everyone such instrtument was present) and you with Teen had the guitars.
"I am not sure how well I can play this" the boy confesed to you in a hushed tone as he fixed his grip on the instrument.
You both stood side by side.
"It's not a hard one. If you get stuck, follow my lead" you reassured him, a small smile just enough to make him relax a little bit.
He did and offered a small smile in return while trying to fix the guitar strap, all while doing the best to ignore the sharp pain coming from the side of hid abdomen.
Then, you did not notice it and failed to see that his landing was not as smooth or harmless as you thought it was.
Once everyone was ready, the lightning in the room changed and slowly you started to play the beat of the Ballad.
Agatha stood in the middle, right in front of the microphone and yet before she could truly start singing; the curse attacked her too.
"Agatha!" You and Teen exclaimed, almost rushing to her side.
"Keep playing!" She hissed, having bent one knee and supporting herself on the mike stand. "Keep playing!"
Left with no choice, you all focused on the rhythm as Agatha started to sing.
swan song 13 is queued for the 1st of feb at 4:30gmt, and after that will be updated each sunday, so if you were considering starting it, now would be the time to get the latter half live :)
He’s halfway through his second glass of wine when he finally convinces himself to say something. He takes a deep breath. He can do this. He talked to Frank about this, he’s ready. He just has to wait till Karen is done with her story and figure out a good way to—
“I’m gay!” Or… he could blurt it out while she’s in the middle of a sentence. Hen, who was taking a sip of wine, proceeds to immediately choke.
Mac probably ought to keep his eyes on Giovanni and his gang, but he’s having a hard time holding his tongue. Under the hot anger that roils though his thoughts, his training tells him to keep his head down until he can come up with an actual plan. At the moment, they’re traveling away from his team and that’s the direction he wants Giovanni to keep going.
If nothing else, he’s pretty sure that Giovanni won’t try to kill him yet. They’re still too far from their destination, and the leader is smart enough to know he can’t get there without help. There’s a good chance that he knows he needs Mac’s help finding his way back out, too. As long as Mac doesn’t piss him off too much, he’s got a day or so to work up a plan, which gives the rest of the team a day or so to get ahold of Matty and get an tac team here.
“How much farther?” Giovanni asks.
Mac examines the map. “About two miles as the crow flies.” He doesn’t offer the map back. He could use it, if he can get away from Gio’s group. That’s feeling like a big ‘if’ given how closely Giovanni is watching him. “It’s going to be a one-way trip if we don’t stop to collect water.”
“When we get there.”
Mac can’t help shooting the man a scowl. “And if our muscles cramp from dehydration before we get there, are you going to shoot everybody?”
Gio presses his lips together.
Mac lifts the map again and pokes a finger at a smaller stream that the map shows to the north, which is the way they need to go to get around the steep slope in their path. “Look, you can send your people down here to this stream to collect the water. But we can’t drink it right from the stream, it’s not potable.”
“And you’re gonna make it drinkable?” Emma asks. Emma’s shivering, elbows tucked tight against herself as she rubs her arms. “How?”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
‘I just think you tell people exactly as much as you want them to know. You’re a good liar. If you’ve got secrets, I’m sure you’ll be able to keep them. Maybe it’s a power thing you do, I don’t know. I don’t know where it comes from. As you say, I don’t know you that well. Or maybe you only pick people who don’t ask.’
