(???)

Cold, dark, suffocating. People often equate these words with death as they lay in its troughs. I envy humans. Born incomplete, spared the cruel memories of birth.

Cold, dark, suffocating. I equate those words with life, able to ascribe each definition so acutely with each stage of my birth. I curse myself, born complete, unable to forget memories of death.

My sister and I are artificial beings, born of frigid hands, incubated within flasks. We were not miracles of life but products of one woman’s cruel thesis. Mother... Even among witches, she is lauded as an unparalleled genius, a descendent of the moon goddess, bestowed the title of lunar mistress.

Grasping all the world’s knowledge was not enough to sate her voracious curiosity, so she turned her eye to the moon. Dissecting the celestial body of her goddess for questions. Emerging one day with a simple question that has plagued humanity since time immemorial, how does one go about creating life?

The natural start to that question would be a soul.

A witch’s soul resides in their hands, comprised of two halves. One a droplet of pure silver, and the other a black iris circled by a ring of copper. The right and left, respectively. The light and dark side of the moon.

Thus we are moon-born, artificial moons, inheriting each half’s nature.

My sister inherited the pale light that nurtures life when at its most still, weighed on body and mind by the infinite void above. Offering respite from the hardships that plagued their waking moments.

The complete opposite of me, who represented the moon’s darkness. The far side of the moon, who unceasingly monitors the endless abyss.

Our birthrights, our shackles.

For one so lacking in human intricacies, even following my other half’s example, I could never hope to attract people like sister did.

Compared to the lamplight of the night, muse of all those who gazed up at the boundless stars. I was nothing but a reminder of the cruelty that lay beyond. Whose eye’s burrow into the soul, dissecting without emotion.

Although, even then. There was one who chose to accompany my solitude. For all I have known the boy, he has always clung tightly to my heels, following me where ever I go. Warm, comforting, unlike me, he was not a moon. This loneliness was not his to bear.

Which is why, I jumped out of my seat in joy reading my apprentice's monthly report. That boy finally made friends.

Knowing the boy would most likely butt heads with his newly found companions once they expressed destain at my presence. I donned my sister’s persona. For the most part, it worked. Only hampered by my eyes and fascination once I met them.

For a lonely boy, who I found half dead in the middle of nowhere, he was drawn to the extraordinary like a moth to flame. If his clinging to someone as disturbing as I was any indication.

But befriending a shrine priestess, a drowned, and a girl touched by spirits? The goddesses must be smiling upon him for a life of hardship. They were, in all opinions, an open, friendly, and accommodating bunch, good companions for the boy.

As time trickled by, one day at a time, my facade grew ever more comfortable to don. People still found my eyes unnerving. But despite that, the group accepted me as their own. Warmth, just a sliver of heat, felt tantalizing. Addicting, so easy to attain, so easily lost. Why did I have to be bo-.

Teach- Teacher- That voice... Opening my eyes, it was cold, dark, and suffocating. Oh, Rudi is holding me in his arms. It’s warm. So warm... Maybe I’ll rest a while longer.

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(Zhenya Pov)

The melody of industry was music to my ears. We’ve made good headway on both fronts, rotating shifts and occasionally slapping sense into Freddie’s thick skull. People were starting to recover and managed to help dig others out.

Although not all of them came out in one piece. As good an alchemist Ellie is, she couldn’t reattach pancaked limbs nor bring the dead back to life. Thanks to their enhanced armor, the death rate was lower than expected.

Still didn’t help Freddie from kicking herself. All and all, this was a much-needed break after the fiasco upstairs.

“H-”

“Ellie, you hear that?” I asked the pink medic, who found a brief moment of respite.

“Hel-”

“Yeah, it sounds like-”

“Help!”

““Rudi!”” Along with the rest of the knights on digging duty, we scrounged through the earth, finding a pocket housing him along the wagon with an unconscious Junia in the back. As I suspected, the wagon held up against the rumbling rocks. Although, Junia hit her head pretty hard on impact.

The rest of us were quick to usher them into the medical corner while the rest salvaged what they could from the wagon.

“Rudi, follow my finger.” Ellie conducted a quick diagnosis to see if Rudi was okay. He was, barring a few scratches. Junia, on the other hand, had to get stitches. Not a lot. Doable with what supplies we had left, the healing potion should work its magic in small quantities.

“Rudi, you good? Mentally I mean.” The boy looked like an utter wreck. More than usual, and I’ve seen the hideous monster that emerges after one of his study sessions.

“Yeah...” He absentmindedly replied. I wasn’t going to accept that after everything with Fredrica. I didn’t ask her before she went and did something stupid. Not again.

Before I could rebuke him, Ellie beat me to the punch. “Rudi, we’re practically siblings at this point. I can tell your bottling up your feelings.” ‘Yeah.’ I backed the pink girl. I’ve known Rudi longer than Freddie. And even then, I can’t claim to know much about the boy.

At most, we hang around each other and crack jokes.

I knew I was being pushy, but he was obviously stewing, as Ellie pointed out. “Junia, teacher. She only hit her head because she pushed me out of the way.”

“Rudi, you shouldn’t blame yourself for that. She wanted to protect you. That just goes to show how much you mean to her. And you returned the favor by getting our attention.” His breathing was becoming erratic but calmed as we reassured him it wasn’t his fault.

“It’s not like that. She’s my savior. She took me in when I was... Lost. I promised to protect her... Zhenya, I’m not kidding around when I say I owe her my life.” This got me, Su, Freddie, and several of the knights injured or not interested in this tale, with some more hormonal ones taking it one step further.

Ellie continued with a slight smirk ever so hidden.

Just as it looked like Rudi was starting to open up, a round of coughs reminded us of his condition. He should be in bed recovering, not spinning his life's tale.

“Rudi.” The pink witch started as she laid him down and tucked him in. “If you want, I could tell them in your stead.” The pink nurse’s motherly smile returned, seeing him nod. Bidding comfort that she would give his tale the respect it deserves.

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(Ellie Pov)

I hate brewing potions. That is a secret I hold close to heart. Since the moment of my inception, I have never once felt a tinge of excitement that brewing a concoction may bring. Never able to taste failure nor savor the summit after a treacherous climb. How can anyone find joy in given success?

No one can. Any who says otherwise is lying. The hollow praise, the false smiles, the undeserved worship... I couldn’t.

Mother... is complex. While a dotting parent was an exuberant woman. Nothing could keep her away from her research, usually leaving us to our devices for months at a time.

There were servants. Dutiful folk who dedicated their lives to worshipping witches in return for mentorship. And on occasion, some of mother’s colleagues would drop by, but it was all the same. They applauded my hollow creations and spurned Junia’s earnest endeavors.

Ignoring that she is far more talented than I will ever be. I'll never see the world as any other witch does. Let alone Junia, whose eyes are exceptionally well-developed. Granting her potential, unrivalled by any other witch can hope to match, not even our mother!

Sure, she may fail to make what she originally intended. But the sheer joy she takes in brewing each one always leaves me envious.

She has to think, compose, test, discover, fail, and pursue. All I have to do is mix anything, and it’ll produce a ‘known’ success. I cannot make anything new.

What sealed my fate was my own mother. Growing dispassionate with what most decree the mark of a true witch, I confided with mother in her lab. A strange sterile white atelier.

Hearing my plight, she wrapped me in her arms and apologized.

She confessed everything. The nature of my birth and the reason I am doomed to never know the joy of discovery. My plight, my curse, my artificial life.

It was liberating, in a sense. A glimmer of hope in this otherwise dull existence!

If only my abilities as a witch were impacted, then perhaps the joy of discovery was still in my grasp. On a whim, conjured that very moment, I decided to leave the mansion. Not permanently, but I wanted to go out into the world and experience all the joys and mysteries it had to offer.

That was when I felt it for the second time in my pitifully perfect life. The spirit of adventure, not knowing what would lay around the next bend!

Yes, just like that day. “When out of the blue, I think we were around twelve, maybe fifteen. Junia brought home a boy on the brink of death.”

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(Zhenya Pov)

“Huh, never would have guessed that’s how they met. It does explain why Rudi sticks so closely to her, with Junia saving his life and all that.” All was quiet now that we settled in for Ellie’s tale. Even those working in the tunnels muffled to pinpricks in the distance.

“The moon hung high amongst the starry cloudless night. Mother was away on business, leaving the two of us alone.” Ellie started her tale, having composed herself, leaving us languishing in silence for some time.

“I was fast asleep in my atelier at the time. Blissfully unaware of Junia’s nightly trysts. Awoken by a jumbling of footsteps followed by the door creaking open. I assumed many things. Juni was one thing the boy slung atop her was not.

Urging her over to an open table. I applied first aid, followed by a small application of salve. Rudi’s wounds were minor but varied. What needed to be treated was his fatigue. I won’t exaggerate. My memory of that night is still vivid to this day. The boy was about to die from exhaustion.”

“What?” One Knight asked aloud, as many of them mulled this piece of info together. “Was he a slave?” While the practice was generally dead in this day and age. Even in the north, where it was slow goings, we had laws against that type of stuff.

There were still a few who had those types of inclinations. You’d hear horror stories from time to time on the vine about some ass hat claiming it as their right.

“No.” Ellie immediately denied that assumption. Much to everyone’s relief. “He was clearly dressed in slacks that were mismatched. As for status. Do you really want spoilers?”

“Whoops. My bad, go on.” She shrunk under the pressure of her fellow comrades.

“Ahem. After getting Rudi patched and stable, there was one other thing for me to address. Junia, I could tell she was distraught even if her facial expressions didn’t show it. That girl has always had trouble expressing her emotions.

Sitting her down, warmed with a blanket and a cup of cocoa.” The girl silently stalled, appearing to relish in the warmth of the memory itself. “I eventually got her talking. Apparently, she had been sneaking out every night when our mother wasn’t home. Wanted to see the moon and all that. Not that I blame her.” The last part went unquestioned by the rest of us.

“In the woods surrounding our property, Junia found a small clearing of pouring moonlight. This particular night she heard screaming, the frantic stomps of many. And who is it to break the tree line first? Well, it was Rudi.”

By this point, Rudi had shut his eyes, taking deep breaths as silently as possible. This was not an event he wanted to relive.

“Always quick on her feet, she pulled him aside before using a reflecting potion.” There were a couple chuckles as Ellie explained to us common folk that it was nothing more than a joke potion. Something that renders someone temporarily invisible as long as they stay perfectly still.

There were a lot of factors that could give the user away, along with a short effect duration. I can see why people don’t use it for anything serious.

And Junia, in all her intellect, brought one along just case something went wrong. Perhaps a stray animal or to sneak back home. The fact that it managed to save them was a nice turn.

The people in question were robed in purple and gold. And by Junia’s description, armed to the teeth with weapons made to mangle and torture.

“Although we figured that out years later. At the time, Junia only described them as ‘scary’ weapons.” Ellie quickly added.

“With Rudi stuck in a coma the following days. As he was stable and showed no signs of waking anytime soon. Junia and I decided to investigate what exactly occurred.” And before anyone could bring up how idiotic that move was, Ellie fessed up first. But they were like thirteen at the time. So stupidity went hand in hand.

“Packing for every possibility and leaving a note, we set off for Junia’s moon viewing spot. There were deep footprints. They were obviously searching for Rudi. The prints eventually track back from where they came from, having conceded.

Cautiously we followed off to the side, never directly, knowing the tracks drew a straight line. We didn’t know if they left behind traps.

And what we found...” Pause. She glanced over at Rudi, who seemed to have fallen asleep out of exhaustion. Or maybe the oxygen was running out. We were still cycling out people. So it wasn’t like we were all sitting here sucking our thumbs.

“Death and ruin. Bodies left out to rot. And houses burned down to the last. Rather morbidly, there were signs that some of their deaths were not quick. The ones that didn’t struggle.

That ruled out bandits. Sick bastards are never known for this level of cruelty, they usually want to keep easy targets alive, fearful but alive.

A small farming village like this would have been a perfect target.” As Ellie kept us in suspense, Freddie coming to a realization, uttered the name. ‘The Goddess’ Hands.’ A term that equally nauseated everyone in the room. Except for me.

“Who?” I questioned. And as per protocol, Freddie answered.

“They’re a bunch of sick fanatics who believe only those chosen by the goddesses are allowed ‘mercy’. Nothing more than a band of raving maniacs wandering rural areas to commit their ‘rituals’.

“Rituals?” That sounds ominous. Considering the dead bodies and everything.

“Just like it sounds.” Fredrica continued. “It’s an offering to the goddesses. Anything, be it money, relationships, or even people. The more someone ponies up, the greater the power they receive.

To this day, it’s never been clear which goddess or god answers the prayers. Some say they pray to the moon, while others, the sun goddess, and the islanders would point to the sea. Hell! No one has ever produced solid evidence that it’s the goddesses bequeathing these powers!”

“Wait. Is this what you meant when you said Bargas bartered with the gods?” I pipped up, finally figuring out what she meant when we ran into the pudgy botanist.

“Yep. If my assumptions are correct. Bargas must have given up his ‘beauty’ and right to wield a sword.” Several knights and knightess cringed at the thought. Was that tub of lard really that good-looking?

“Anyways, here’s the kicker. The person conducting the ritual doesn't necessarily need to be the one to make the sacrifice. Nor do the gods always see what was sacrificed as sufficient.

So that’s these freaks M.O. Ride in enslave the locals and start conducting the ritual by sacrificing anything they may see as valuable. Keep going until they run out of ideas, then off the person. Rinse and repeat until it works or until they run out of victims.

After that, they go to great lengths to induct the poor folk who managed to gain the ‘Goddess’s blessing’.”

That was all Freddie wanted to speak of the subject. But I got the gist. Poor Rudi had to live through that.

My disgust wasn’t an isolated reaction. Many there were outraged at the atrocities committed. They knew of the group, and some even participated in hunting their ilk down... It’s just to be reminded of the group’s actions, enraged them no matter how much they are exposed to it.

“For Rudi, it was a lottery.” Ellie resumed her story. “He told us this years later. They rounded everyone up, his friends, family, and neighbours, and drew lots to see who would be tried first.

From there... Well, I think it’s best for Rudi to come to terms with telling it to other people himself.” I- Yeah. Overall the details of said atrocities held no bearing on the story. Best she leave it at ‘bad stuff’ happened.

“Anyways, we headed back home after checking the place out. From there, Rudi woke up. That was a whole ‘nother can of worms. Eventually, mother returned. After hearing our tale, she allowed Rudi to stay and told us about the Goddess’ Hands.

She was clear that if they were skulking around these parts we should stay inside for the next couple of months. We were going to anyways, taking care of Rudi and all that. It took a while for him to open up to us.

Aside from that, mother got the guards involved and took Rudi along to give his village a proper burial. It was the right thing, and mother didn’t want any lingering spirits near the house.

And I guess that’s it.”

“By the way, did Rudi receive an ability?” I mused.

“I believe he did. Though that’s just me assuming.” The pink witch replied. “But I think he may be mentally suppressing it. We checked his skills, and one of them is blank. Just an empty space with nothing occupying it.” But then again, Su’s skills were and still are heavily degraded due to her not using them along with her trauma, might be the same case.

Speaking of the pale ghost. Su continued clearing a path, all the while listening in. With a crunch heard by all of us, she declared that the way was cleared.

“Well. I guess it’s go time.” Honestly, the words were akin to a breath of fresh air for all us trapped. As others gathered our supplies, catching up those who swapped in the middle of Ellie’s retelling of Rudi’s trauma. I realized one thing. “Where the hell is that damned horse?" We’ve cleared out a majority of the rubble. You think we would have spotted a horse carcass somewhere. But nada. Whatever. It’s probably still above.