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latent-sense-of-loyalty · 3 months

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Ch. VI

Word Count: 4258 Masterlist ¤ AO3 ¤ Ko-Fi ~ AN: In case you haven't seen, I have also started a new Baldurs Gate 3 series with Enver Gortash and Dark Urge! If you are interested, check it out!

"Become as Gods"

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The storm had not let up in days. Typical for this time of year, the rain would soon be replaced with snow. It was like the world was mourning another bygone fall, life being stripped off the boughs of trees, rotting on the ground, waiting for the frost to finally claim the decay.

Sirona did not mind, it drove business through her doors. Even with all the troubles, business was business. But some limits had to be reached, and she could tell just from the comfort of patrons alone, everyone was reaching their limit. A cloud had come over Hogsmeade, and this cloud had not broken to unleash its rain yet. Sirona knew that it was close to breaking, and she did not want to see innocents swallowed in the chaos.

The envelope sat in her pocket, the tavern shaking slightly from another roaring clap of thunder. None of the patrons seemed to be phased, continuing to murmur about the recent attacks close by. As she inspected them all, polishing the tankard in her hand, her eyes fell again on the old crone, hunched and sitting alone on the second floor. She had been sitting there for a good while now, food left untouched. Sirona could just make out the woman's fingers fiddling with something. Sirona really didn't want to go up there, to confront the old woman on all days, but she had to think of the patrons first. Grabbing a bottle and a small glass, she nodded to the men sitting g at the bar, making her ways upstairs.

The crone was the only soul in sight, everyone else wanting to sit close to the fire as the air chilled. The witches' clothes were decapitated, hanging on her frail body by threads. The hood covered her face, silver hair pooling beneath on the table, some of it now on the plate beside her, mixing with the now cold meat juices. Her gnarled fingers focused on the small vial on the table, pushing it forward as it rolled back to her, over, and over, and over. The witch didn't acknowledge Sirona's presence until the wrinkled envelope hit the table, stopping the witch as the vial hit her knuckle.

"If you're going to order food, at least eat it. I hate wasting." Sirona placed the glass down, pouring a cup of dark Dragon Brandy. The witch slowly dragged her hand towards the envelope, pocketing it before taking a generous sip of brandy, the following hiss the first sound Sirona had heard from her. Thinking the bar was fine for now, she pulled up a chair, sitting down close to the decrepit crone.

After another sip, Sirona noticed the slight bubbling in her hand, the crone quickly taking a swig of some flask in her robe, wincing.

"How much…?" The witches' voice sounded nearly ancient, as if Sirona expected to see a puff of dust from her mouth after speaking. Slowly, she lifted her head to Sirona. Sirona was going to be blunt, she looked like hell. Old leathery skin, warts, eyes sunken in and cheeks, even with their jewels, hollowed from starvation.

"Two." Sirona's voice was flat, taking her own sip of the brandy. "I can't keep doing this for you… people are wo during and-"

"My dear…. It is only hair." The woman sipped the glass after, beginning to once again push the vial back and forth. "Soon enough… all will be good."

The Tavern keeps hand slammed down on the table, almost close enough to shatter the vial entirely. Before she could blink, a wand was poised at her throat, the tip almost feeling like a knife. The crone's face snarled at her, leaning in to whisper. "The vial…. Don't fucking touch it." The wand retracted, and the vial continued to roll again.

Sirona felt a stab of pity go through her, it honestly broke her heart. But at the end of the day, she couldn't enable this, and put lives at risk. "Listen…. " Sirona sat forward, looking at the witch. "You can't be coming back here anymore… people are getting tipped off, you're putting way too many lives at risk. More than the ones that have already died." Sirona braced herself for the other to lash out, to get angry, but all she heard was a sigh.

"You know I wish I could help you.." Sirona cautiously placed her hand over the old woman's, her skin ice cold. "But I need to look out for us… and for you. I don't want to see you…" she couldn't finish the sentence, taking another swig before filling the cup again, the other woman taking it with a shaking hand to drink down completely. "I'm sorry." The witch let out another sigh, straightening herself in her chair. Sirona couldn't help but flinch away from the other.

"I… understand my friend." The weathered fingers patted Sirona's hand, relaxing into the chair once more as she stopped the vial. "Just…. May I eat before leaving?"

"Of course. The bottle and meal are on the house," She grabbed the witch's shoulder, giving a light squeeze. "Speaking of which," She stood up, giving a stretch before taking one last sip from the bottle. "I've got a man upstairs." The old witch nodded, Sirona taking her leave after one last squeeze. A hole grew in the woman's stomach, a hand moving to hold onto her wand. She didn't want to have to do this again, it nearly killed her last time. But she knew, for the good of everyone, all loose ends needed to be cut. Yet, as she looked down at the vial before her, that hole grew into a pit of longing, one she just prayed would swallow her up soon.

—

June 19, 1893

She couldn't get herself to sleep, most of the students couldn't sleep tonight. It was her last night here. In this common room, in this castle, and it broke her heart. Exams flew by, her N.E.W.T.s had just gotten her though enough for the Auror academy to truly let her in, yet as she sat on the couch, staring up into the lake, it felt empty and hollow. All she could think about was him, his reaction to it all, how they left each other that day. Lenore hated leaving things the way they were, even if they would never see each other again. After everything that had happened this year, this all felt wrong.

Her thought process had been broken at the sounds of wings rustling behind her, the screech of an owl on its perch waiting for her. “Sorry buddy, everyone is out.” The seventh years had taken their last night to Hogsmeade, toasting to their tenure of school. Lenore, as much as she adored most of the relationships she had made, was never one for loud events. She hated feeling so cramped, the overabundance of noise. Yet, the owl remained, bobbing its head back and forth as it waited. With a grunt, Lenore approached, the handwriting on the owl making her step falter. She could feel her heart stop, stomach filling with those nervous butterflies as she gently grasped the letter.

It was odd, but she always admired his handwriting. Breaking the wax seal with a shaking hand, she slowly opened the letter, the contents making her heart jump straight to her throat.

Miss Arkanos,

You know where to find me.

-Sharp

Lenore did not even consider dressing more appropriately, her long olive robe covering enough of her nightgown to still be tasteful. Hair lay around her shoulders, tousled and unkempt as she made her way out of the common room. She did not realise until halfway through her journey, she did not even bother wearing shoes.

A few students still lingered in the hallways, ghosts passing by as they did a double take. It was more than unusual for someone to be walking around in their sleepwear, especially to the faculty building. But what were they going to do really, expel her now? The thought made Lenore laugh to herself. The stone felt cold on her feet, helping her ground herself to the entire situation on hand. She did not know what she was going to do, say, what kind of situation she was about to walk herself into. But Lenore was not about to let this end this way. Too much had happened, neither of them couldn't deny this. Lenore needed closure, and so did he.

Standing in front of the Faculty room entrance, Lenore hesitated as her hand hovered over the door. She knew she would not be seen, the professors were celebrating with the seventh years. But a part of her did not want to make any of this worse, to test whatever thin ice she was on to see if it would shatter beneath. Lenore knew herself better than that though as she pushed through. She always took her risks, to a fault.

The floorboards were a welcome change on her feet, her body beginning to warm itself from the nerves as she ascended the stairs. The first flight, she debated turning around, the second she tried to find every way to explain to him how he was wrong. As she approached the landing, she could see the light streaming from the tiny balcony, the faint sound of music playing. As she stopped to listen, a sudden realization came over her, one that filled her chest with a campfire warmth.

Without hesitation she pushed through the door, entering the first room of his quarters. She could see that it remained the same as the past times she had come here. Coats and shirts strewn over chairs, a couple portraits covered. He always hated having all those eyes on him. She could smell the latest concoctions he had been working on, he never really stopped. But what she noticed immediately was the large marble fireplace ahead, the fire completely out. Usually he would make her put in the effort to extinguish the flames, just so he could chuckle at her slight irritation every time. Lenore, as much as it did slightly annoy her, always enjoyed bringing him some kind of small joy in that regard. It was rare to see him really let guards down, soften himself up a little. Anything like that, she would take and cling to for the whole day .

Crouching past the hearth, she slowly made her way upstairs, the music becoming clearer in her mind. She could smell the tea permeating the staircase, her shoulders already tensing. He was so close, and every step made her anxiety heighten. It was not until the last few flights she paused her ascension, noticing something different on the walls.

Lenore remembered for a time, during the spring break, she had spent quite a majority of time with Aesop, Wanting to help him not only with his potion crafting, but with his illustrations. He had only passed it off as a small hobby of his, which she immediately knew was a lie. From the spectacular detail he had in his mind, to remembering every single part of a room to the singular blades of grass, it astounded her. Lenore’s mind worked much too fast to pick up that much detail, except if it was a specific moment that was so important, it branded itself on her brain.

So Lenore should not have been surprised that the new additions on the walls seemed to be pulled out of her memory of that night at the Yule Ball. The trees with crystalized branches, the individual flakes of snow. Lenore saw the stairs leading up towards the courtyard, how they looked frosted over, save for the few individual footprints left behind. As she made it up the last flight, she could see the balcony looking over the viaduct bridge, the memories almost flooding back to her. With the music, the images around her, it was as if she was somewhat back in the moment. The rustling heard in the other room was what brought her back to reality.

Walking into the small workshop, of course the first thing her eyes fell on was Aesop, his back to her as he sat at the desk against the far wall, quill in hand as it furiously scratched the page. For as beautiful as his art was, he was not exactly the most gentle artist. Also judging by the amount of snapped quills in the bucket on the table with him, she could tell it was not one of his good days. She could feel the frustration emanating off his body as she approached, hugging her robe closer to her body. Lenore regretted not changing, feeling extremely exposed now.

Hearing the rustle of her robes snapped Aesop out of his own thoughts, eyes softening only slightly. “Ah… Miss Arkanos..” It was like a punch to the gut, hearing him address her like that. After what had happened, he usually said her first name in private, they both did. Hearing him address her like before now, it made her stomach tighten. Yet, Lenore nodded her head in response. Without saying anything she waved her wand, the pot of tea immediately pouring for the two of them. For a moment they stood in silence, neither of them able to look at each other until they both held their tea.

“I…. I am glad you came.” His voice was much quieter now, daring to look over at the girl. To his shock, Lenore’s eyes met his, both just taking the moment while on opposite sides of the table.

“Listen… Professor I-”

Aesop held his hand up slowly, his stare gentle yet firm. Immediately Lenore hushed herself, trying everything to not shake. She never knew what it was that made her body react to him in such a way, but just by his eyes alone she could not stop shaking. Waving his wand, he brought two chairs towards them, Lenore automatically sitting before him. For a moment, as he approached, he took in the sight of her, the aching in his heart growing. Aesop knew this would be the last he could ever see her like this, here, with him. All he wanted to do was freeze the moment in time, to revel in this before he would watch that infernal train take her away from him, to the one place he begged her not to go. Yet, here Aesop stood once more, doing everything to not grovel at her feet.

Slowly he sank into the chair beside her, clearing his throat before addressing her. “I… I wanted to apologize for what happened before.” Lenore could hear the nervousness in his voice, wanting to just take any kind of fear he had away. “It was not right of me… but..” And there was the but. The one thing she did not want to hear, the sigh of irritation already breaking through as she stood, pacing back and forth in front of him.

“Lenore you need to listen-”

“No! No I don't Aesop. You of all people know this is exactly what I should be doing with my life! I can do something, make myself an Auror that actually helps people, not sit on their ass doing paperwork. I can fight, I can be something!” Lenore could not help but raise her voice. This argument was a tired one, Aesop pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You know how hypocritical you're being with this!”

“Not one part of you understands what you want to do Lenore!” Now was his turn to stand, facing her as his expression turned to stone. “I have seen the worst of it, experienced the worst of it. It will change you Lenore, you will see things that one should never have to endure.” The chill crawled up his spine, memories flashing in his mind, ones that kept him awake at night. “I can't see you go down that path, I can't see you-”

“Can't what? Can't bear to see me do the one thing you wish you could do? I never took you for the jealous type.” She spat out the words, anger now fueling her words. “I know what there is to see Aesop, lest you fucking forget!” He could not help but wince. She was partly right, she had seen things that most students would not be able to cope with, and it had changed her. But Lenore knew there was more, something he wasn't saying, and as his expression changed, suddenly her anger changed, morphing into regret.

“Lenore…” his voice caught in his throat, only letting out a strange whimper, a sound that shook Lenore to her core. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the deep blue beginning to glass over with tears as he slowly, very slowly, approached her.

“I have seen my best friend, my partner, killed right in front of me. I could not stop it, but the thought of knowing it was me who brought him there, who had hoped it would go well… I live with that guilt, every day.” He stepped closer. “I know you feel that way with Eleazar.” Closer. “But… the day I saw you get hit, fall to the ground writhing in pain, that scream.: He choked on the work, steadying himself on the desk. “Lenore, the thought of you going out there, risking your life over poachers and dark wizards, when you have already done so much… the thought kills me.”

Lenore was not aware that she had been backing up until her lower back hit the table, her breathing rapid and shallow. Yet, she could not tear her eyes away from the man before her.

“I… I can't sit by and watch you throw yourself into something so dangerously, without trying.” He was only a couple feet away now, his scent making Lenore grow dizzy. “I… I care for you Lenore, more than I ever should. More than is safe..” Another step. “But I have to tell you, I can't bear to lose someone else I love.”

Slowly, he reached up with his hand, moving some of the hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing her cheekbone as lightly as a breath. “I'm too afraid… that if I admit what is true… that I will lose you. So…” he leaned in a little, their faces merely inches apart. Lilium, for a moment, wanted so desperately to close the gap between them. His breath danced with hers, his hand now cupping her cheek as they just stood there, both waiting for the other to do something.

Yet, Lenore knew this was not right, the position they both were in. A moment like this should not happen here. They should not be this way, this over emotional, this unclear. They both deserve each other in their best moments. Lenore took in a deep breath, sighing as her hand cupped his own cheek, Aesop sighing at the contact. It had been more years than he could recall, being touched so affectionately. He just wanted to stay like this.

“Aesop… all I ask is that you wait for me… let me show you that I can do this.” Her voice was desperate, begging him to just see. Yet as he pulled away, she knew what answer he had come to. His eyes reflected the heartbreak of her own, no words needing to be said. It took every ounce of strength to not break, to hold the tears at bay. She watched him as he went to a drawer, pulling out an ornate mahogany box, coming back to place it in her hands. Tears dripped onto the lid, Lenore’s efforts unsuccessful.

“I want you to have this… For when you feel you need it the most.” He opened the box, inside revealing a small tear-shaped vial. Delicately, Lenore picked it up, her eyes widening to see the liquid gold contained. Immediately she shook her head, her eyes wide with shock.

“No… No, I am not taking this Aesop. We both agreed this could be what you need and-”

“And I am deciding that your life is worth more than my own leg.” His voice had gotten harder now, Aesop trying to fight back his own emotions. He placed the vial in her hand, wrapping her fingers around it. “Please… “ Lenore was not sure exactly what he was pleading for. Her to stay? Her to not put her life in danger? For her to take it? Again she found their faces so close again, now breathing erratic as emotions began to boil over.

Lenore could only shake her head, feeling her heart break. “I can’t… I can't.” She couldn't stand to see the pain anymore, to know she had caused any of this. She slipped away, racing down the stairs and out of the room.

The last thing she had ever heard Aesop say was her name.

—

She had not realized how close the bottle was to empty before picking it up, hearing the last remnants swishing about. Before she could take a swig of it though, she heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, multiples. ‘What great fucking timing.’ Her skin began to start shifting slowly, and Lenore knew there was no longer any more in her flask to try and stop it, so she just pulled the hood down more, seeing the six wizards now flanking the stairs. Two of them stood at her exit, another two standing at the stairs leading to the next floor. The entire tavern had gone quiet, Sirona downstairs, ready to draw her wand. The last two wizards slowly approached the woman, sitting down beside her as they finished her bottle.

“You know why we’re here…” the man's voice was a low growl, one she could feel in her chest as he spoke. “Let’s not cause any more bloodshed that is needed. You know you can't run forever. We will find you… he will find you.” The man leaned in close, his stinking breath on Lenore’s face. “I don't want to cut that face up more than needed. Blood doesn't suit a lady like you.” Lenore finally raised her head, a smile gracing the old woman’s face as it began to bubble more.

“You're right… It doesn't suit me at all.” She leaned closer to the man. “But it does suit you.”

The knife stabbed straight into the wizards hand, pinning him to the table as Lenore let out a burst of fire, blasting most of the wizards either down the stairs or off the balcony. Lenore quickly saw how the dark wizard beside her was effectively cooked before jumping from the balcony herself. As another wizard approached, she quickly propelled him through the tables, his body crashing out the window. ‘Sorry Sirona.’ She self apologized, taking one of the massive kegs of butterbeer and throwing it to the wizard that had been thrown off the balcony with her. Before any others could get their bearings, Lenore let out a blast to one of the dark wizards blocking the door sprinting out of the tavern into the downpour. Auror’s would be coming any minute, and she had to be far enough ahead to apparate.

As she turned on her heel, sprinting through the slick cobblestone streets, she failed to notice how there had been more dark wizards waiting outside. It didn't take long to hear the chaos behind her as she ran, throwing spells at stalls and shelves to try and buy her extra time. Lenore heard one of the attackers yell out as soon Auror’s began to apparate in left and right, Lenore using whatever alley and dark corner was available to get the most she could off her tail.

As she made it past the town circle, heading upwards into the hills, she decided to chance it and turn to see how many were following. The storm was heavy enough that, in the night, she could just make out two figures. Lenore could hear the whispers in her ear once more, begging her to just let go, to let them taste what real power could be. Lenore was so exhausted, hurt, and just needed to get out. Waving her wand, she threw one of the large stone bricks into an attackers head, just able to hear the sound of the bones crushing on impact. That was all she needed to feel the overflowing ancient magic once more.

Lenore pointed her wand to the sky, the tip shining a brilliant blue. She could see the dark wizard just as the blue lightning bolt came from the heavens, smiting him where he stood, leaving nothing but charred remains. Yet in the brilliant light, She saw something that made, just for a moment, all time stop.

Lenore knew she was delirious enough to hallucinate, the visage of Aesop behind the attacker. For a moment, pure fear gripped her as she saw his body fly back from the impact of the blast, colliding with a wooden cart. She stepped towards the mirage, desperately wishing it could really be him. Before she could even think about getting any closer, Lenore heard the Auror’s descending. It took every ounce of self restraint to apparate, leaving the vision of the man that held her heart behind.

For just a moment, Lenore had wished he was real. She would have been able to tell him that he was right, and that she kept it for him.

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