Amber - 15 (Patreon)

By the morning of the solstice a full six score, a hundred and twenty, witches had arrived; give or take a few. There was a slight disparity between the number of men and women, slightly favouring us girls, but not a great one. We had a few more elderly crones around and half a dozen or so more apprentices, but that was about it. A five to four ratio at most which could easily be put down to women being the ones who always had access to their children while men might leave theirs behind.

Like my father had done to me.

I breathed out slowly, pushing the thought aside. It wasn't one worth thinking about and something that had never truly bothered me, I had grown well used to lacking a father figure in my first life. Lacking one in my second was little different.

Vivi shot me a comforting gaze from her place beside Joseline and Rachel in the circle, she could read my mood well enough to know I'd thought of something distasteful. I smiled back before pressing down on Twix's shoulders.

There had been an argument over Vivi being here at the start, but there was enough precedent – ancient as it was – that the Old Grims had snapped at those who grumbled hard enough it was kept to a minimum.

The sun rode high, reaching for its zenith. While in the depths of winter, we had waited for the dark of night, the coming of midnight, here and now we gathered to induct the apprentices at the very height of summer with the sun at its peak. It had been centuries since the last girl had been anointed under the full bloom of Tal'Doren, under the rays of a summer sun. And I, leading Trix, would be one of those to do it.

But first, before we could get around that, there was a transfer of titles to be done.

The ritual began with Aderic opening the top of a hollowed log, and reaching inside with a gloved hand. From within he withdrew embers, still smouldering ashes, and placed them on the forest floor. A pair of foxes, mundane ones rather than Blink Foxes, darted around his ankles to add the first sticks to the fire.

"We gather today as one for the first time in an age," He spoke, his voice oddly distorted by his mask. An ethereal quality that seemed to stoke the flames higher as those in the circle each tossed their own piece into the fire. "The blessings of Raven and Fox upon us all. As it was, as it should be. It is fitting that in a time of change, there must be a change of roles." He stepped to the side, over the foxes, who darted around his legs again, and Old Grims walked out from behind him leaning on a cane.

She started to speak, a grin on her face, but fell into a hacking cough instead. Two ravens stood on her shoulders, one a mundane bird but the other bore feathers like an evening sky; drinking up the light and turning its black feathers a shimmering and dusky blue.

Both birds ruffled their feathers as she coughed, but neither protested aloud. The Duskwing picked at her hair gently, tucking a stray strand behind her ear.

I could feel the grin she wore behind her mask as she steadied herself and began to speak. "I can no long – hack – no longer Speak for the Ravens. I am no longer able. By next you meet, I shall be gone." She drew herself up as tall as she could, the ravens cawing mournfully. "I name Celestine of the Great Bite, mother to one of our own, teacher of teachers, blessed with wisdom and might, to be my successor. Step forward."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Meredith scowl, but another woman put a hand on her shoulder as a man – the same man who accosted me two days ago – whispered in her ear.

Celestine walked forward from the crowd without a care to the gaze of all those who turned to her, unburdened and with her head held high until she stood before the Speaker of Ravens. She bowed her head, stooping low, with her hands clasped over her heart.

"It is no great burden to speak for those that may speak for themselves." The Speaker of Ravens said, loudly and clearly. "And yet it is to make your voice theirs. To listen and speak their words. To deny your own and accept that, by the pact made long ago, you are caretaker of all Rokkri's children." The mundane raven on her left shoulder cawed lightly, airily, while the Duskwing Raven on her right spread its wings, catching the light and shadowing Celestine's head, and coaked. A deep and throaty sound that echoed throughout the glade. "Do you understand this duty?"

"Yes, Speaker. I do." Celestine said. "My voice shall no longer be my own, but to speak the words of wisdom taught by Rokkri and her children."

The Speaker of Ravens hummed and the first, lesser, raven hopped from her shoulder to Celestine. In the canopy of Tal'Doren a great chorus erupted. Deep throaty croaks mixing with light cawing.

Rokkri was not a name I'd heard before. It was not something Celestine had ever discussed with me, not something I had been taught. And, by the looks of most of the others, all save the eldest amongst us, it was not something they had known either.

"It has always been the duty of the Ravens to keep our kin connected." The Speaker of Ravens said, tilting her head and leaning to the side now that she was unbalanced. "To organise and gather, to assemble and connect. To ensure that none are lost and forgotten save those that wish to be. The Ravens and their Speaker must fly far and wide to do this."

Tal'Doren loomed, watching and listening for the answer. And as the rays of the sun filtered through its shifting branches, casting upon the fire at the heart of our circle, it roared to life. A blaze that reached up into the air above our heads, as if trying to lick at the canopy barring its defiance of the sun.

Trix reeled back into me, retreating from the heat of the flames, but I held her in place. They wouldn't burn her.

Not here, not today.

"Yes, Speaker. I do." Celestine said, her voice nearly drowned out by the roar. "I shall soar across Gilneas and bring word to all our kin, to see that they are spoken for. My home shall not be anywhere save Gilneas, for all of Gilneas is my home."

"Hmph." The Raven Speaker grunted, her head turned faintly to the Duskwing Raven on her shoulder.

After a moment it hopped from one shoulder to the other, Celestine's bowed head falling lower as its weight landed on her. Another, more sedate chorus of croaks and caws echoed above us. But this time it was tinged with a few faint whines, two of which came from the foxes at the Fox Speaker's feet, but there were more that came from around Tal'Doren. Some with an ethereal quality to them.

"Then I end my task and remove from myself my title." Old Grims said as she took the mask from her face. "The Ravens have Spoken, and spoken in your favour. Others might also, but in this none save the Ravens and their Voice matter. Take up the mask and mantle and be Speaker, girl."

There was no single moment where the shift in perception occurred, but as Celestine clasped the mask to her face and stood straight once more, turning to face the assembled witches of Gilneas, it was clear she was the Speaker of Ravens. The thought and feeling echoed in my mind with absolute clarity. The woman before me was the Speaker of Ravens and held no other name.

Not now, not in this moment. She would remove the mask and be herself again in time.

But she was the Speaker of Ravens. Not... not...

Not Celestine.

"There is much to be done." The Speaker of Ravens said, and the Fox Speaker stepped up beside her. The two stood together as one. "Change comes to Gilneas. Change comes to us all. A wall has been built, our home forever altered."

"It is not our place to rule, it has never been. Guides and protectors always. From the oldest days under giant's gaze–" The Fox Speaker began.

"–to kings who sought shelter under our wings." The Raven Speaker finished.

"And so we must follow, we must aid, as we have always done. A calamity has been foretold, visions granted and spoken–" The Fox Speaker's gaze was fixed upon me, and many glances followed to turn my way. "–and we must adapt to meet it. That is the word of Fox and Raven both."

The blazing fire dulled somewhat, falling to merely fierce instead of furious. It still burned bright and hot but no longer roared with intensity.

"Horseshit," Someone muttered, a man near Meredith. "The kings've never done shit for us."

"Calamity?" Came another, this one more thoughtful. "What kind of calamity?"

"We've a seer again? Lady Juniper died when I was a little girl you know, told me I'd–"

"Goes against tradition–"

"What change?"

"Shush! This is important!"

"What a ruddy bunch of rowdy children."

I blinked, hearing the last loud and clear. Old Grims grinned at me, it had been soft and yet carried over all the others straight to my ears. And, seemingly, everyone else as well. Just about the only group that hadn't started muttering and whispering, loud enough to be heard by all, was my own group. Where Joseline stood along with those who had taken most to my lessons.

A few stopped at Old Gims' curiously loud whisper but many kept going, forming into arguments and dissent as men and women bickered over what the Speakers had said.

Then, a deep resounding croak from the Duskwing Raven on The Speaker of Raven's shoulder silenced them all. It glowered at our assembly, then batted its wing into The Speaker of Raven's head, telling her to get on with it.

To her credit, she didn't flinch. "But, that discussion is for us and for later. It is not the business of Foxes or Ravens how Witches choose to live beyond this sacred place, so long as we keep to that which we were taught as children."

"Now is the time for other matters." The Fox Speaker said, "Who here stands for those who seek to join us? Who here believes these children are worthy to join our coven? Who here thinks they are ready to bear the knowledge of the Wardens of Old?"

"I stand for my student and ward," I said, pressing Trix forward and closer to the fire against her resistance. "I have cared for her and taught her all that I am able. She is young yet, but talent cannot be denied lest it grow unattended. She is ready to learn more."

With luck, many more would be.

Heather followed me with Richard, a flurrying of whispers starting up at the madness of a woman teaching a boy. It was always going to cause a stir, and we knew that, but it wasn't truly new. The split was artificial and forced, no matter how people had grown used to how things were done now they were not how things were supposed to be done.

Another girl was brought forward, one I didn't know. She'd only arrived yesterday. And then two boys, brought forth by their fathers. One of the boys, the younger one, seemed annoyed that he had to share his day with a bunch of girls. The other one... was staring at my chest. I glared at him for a moment and he averted his gaze.

The loose robes of the rite sat annoyingly revealingly on me this time around. And... I was going to have to draw Freya's rune over Trix's heart in front of them. No making a mistake with her shift, then.

"Do any deny these claims?" The Fox Speaker demanded.

"Do any dispute–" The Speaker of Ravens tried to say.

"I do!" The man beside Meredith stomped forward, stopping just behind Heather. The one from two days ago. He was more than six feet tall and towered over her. "I do. This is not her place." He jabbed a finger in Heather, "Not hers! Not any of theirs!" He pointed at me, at the other woman and our apprentices. "This is the summer, the time of the Foxes! Let the women have their winter chill, their cold and their ravens. This is our coven and our time."

Old Grims started to cackle.

"Is it? You say this is the time for men, and men alone?" I said, my voice flat and empty as I kept my irritation under lock and key. Letting out a careful scoff I waved towards Tal'Doren, towards its canopy, and the great Unkindness that roosted there. "That this is a time for the Foxes and not the Ravens?" In immediate answer, there was a great hiss of disapproval from above us.

Trix shifted, placing me between her and the man. He was intimidating her.

"I told you two days ago, that if men arrived at the winter solstice seeking shelter, seeking aid, seeking their children be ordained as is their right I would welcome it." I stepped forward, meeting his gaze unflinchingly even as he loomed over me. "Because that is right–"

"I don't care what games you're playing." He growled, interrupting me and leaning down so close the spittle from his words landed on my face. "But this is how things are. So go, little girl, back home to your–"

It wasn't his words that made me stop speaking, but the disgust I felt as he practically spat into my face. If I wore my normal clothes I would have used some of the seeds I had scattered within them, but I had none here; instead, I was forced to use my hand to cover his mouth and stop him from spitting on me further.

I grimaced as I made a show of using my other hand to wipe his spittle off of my face. "Do you have no manners at all?" I asked, letting my disgust come through clearly. "Though, perhaps that comes from the disdain of us Ravens. Whatever reasons you might have... don't spit on me."

He tried to pull back, away from my hand but found my grip on his face too tight. I cared more for Trix hiding behind me than momentary disgust but it had still been foul.

"Just because you would welcome a break in the traditions that keep us safe, that doesn't mean all of us would." Meredith spat, glowering at me from the edge of the circle. The distaste burning in her eyes failed to move me. "And he's right, this is not our place, it has–" She cut herself off, glaring at someone in the circle. "It has not been our place for centuries, for our protection. You and your damned arrogance will get us all killed!" She jabbed her finger at Trix, who clutched tighter at the shift I wore. "You don't deserve an apprentice, you reckless child! You see them dead before they –"

My fingers flicked and a gust of wind stole the voice from her words. "Where's Jens?" I asked into the silence. The man tried to pull my arm away, to get himself free, but he quickly found I was stronger than him; somewhat of a comical sight as I held him in place. "Jennith Glensdaughter was here, she joined us as kin on the day I did – alongside Heather Rosethorn. She was older than me, knowledgeable enough in our lore, and while not strong she had the will to become a Witch true. She was yours, your apprentice. Where is she now?"

"Yes, Meredith of storms, where is she? Where are your apprentices? Who have you taught?" Rachel heckled from the side. "Hard to trust your word on who is worthy to teach, when you've never had a single successful apprentice!"

"She was my friend," Heather said, her voice low and angry. "But she vanished, never came back."

"There have been two more since," Joseline said, counting up on her fingers. "And three more before. Six failed apprentices. As miserable a record as any here might have."

"More, I think." I said, looking over the crowd. It wasn't hard to tell who was firmly in Meredith's camp, and there were more than I liked. And far fewer than I could wish for that appeared to agree with our own points.

Meredith scowled, working magic to regain her voice, and sniffed disdainfully. "Unlike you, I don't allow just anyone to join us. She didn't meet my standards, none of them did. None were the right sort to join us." She waved a hand at Trix dismissively. "Where did you even find her? Your student and ward? What gullible farmer did you trick into giving up their child?" She sneered, her gaze shifting onto Vivi. "Bad enough you brought your little friend here, you wish to dilute us further. More outsiders to make your own blood–"

I was already tense and ready to snap back at her for insulting Trix, only slowed by my confusion on her buffeting back my elemental friend, but my mother was a step too far. I wasn't going to stand for it–

The Duskwing Raven croaked angrily, its brethren taking up the same call.

There was no need for me to interrupt her, but it was clear neither of us was going to forget this for some time.

"That is enough." The Speaker of Ravens said. "Your denial has been heard."

"And is recognised. But none here are present without purpose or the welcome of Fox and Raven alike." The Fox Speaker said, nodding their head. "Release your kin, Gwyneth. Violence has no place here."

I let go of the man with a scoff and grimaced anew at the ick on my hand. "Nor does spitting on one another." I said as blandly as I could. The poor shift didn't deserve the filth I was wiping onto it, but I wasn't leaving it on my hand. And unlike in winter, there wasn't convenient snow to wash them with.

The man massaged his jaw, but still somehow put a smug grin onto his face as he sauntered confidently back into the circle to stand beside Meredith. The way some of those around him were looking at me told me that I'd mishandled my reaction to his insult...

But I wasn't about to let someone spit in my face without a response. I could have done far, far worse. I didn't care if it made me look arrogant. I wasn't just going to take it, no matter how much 'older' he might have been.

... Which is likely what Meredith had wanted, for me to come off as an arrogant and self-important child.

Damnit.

"There is a dispute as to the worthiness of an apprentice," The Fox Speaker said, "And while we do not agree, it falls to us to decide, a vote on the worthiness of–"

There was a loud yip, echoing oddly, and a small blur that barrelled into the circle and set the two foxes at the Fox Speaker's feet to whining in confusion. Somehow it even sounded like the Duskwing Raven sighed. But, as I looked more closely at the blur, I recognised it.

It may have been a little over a week since I saw the Blink Fox that sat at my feet, sniffing at Trix, but she was still clearly recognisable.

"Hmm," The Fox Speaker tilted their head quizzically. "You know this one?"

I opened my mouth to say yes, only to realise he wasn't looking at me. The Blink Fox jumped and twirled, looking back at him, and barked thrice before returning to sniff at Trix. After a moment the little girl yipped happily and just looked up at her.

"Stroke her head. And scratch under her chin, she liked that the most." I whispered to Trix.

Looking more than a little alarmed by the magical creature in front of her she tentatively reached out, brushing at the fox's fur, and then grew more confident. "Soft," She murmured as she drew soft little sounds from the fox by tickling her chin. "And... weird. You're weird." A soft whine. "Pretty weird! Not ugly weird, pretty and cute but still weird!" Trix defended her statement.

The fox was definitely odd, and even more so than she had been. Still starkly blue, but where before she had just one tail there was now a second. Scarcely there, almost invisible, and tasting strangely of my own magic but absolutely present.

Though I didn't think that was what Trix was referring to.

"In this instance, the denial is recognised and rejected." The Fox Speaker said, Tal'Doren's leaves rustling alongside his words. "The Summer is the Fox's time, as it has been since the first days of gathering under the leaves of Talloren. This child is welcomed... and now, let them be judged."

It took effort to draw Trix away from the fox and the fox away from her, but we went through the ritual. There was no fire burned low and left to smouldering embers, no ashes with which to paint her skin. This was a time of blazing heights, not frozen lows. Instead, I heated the sap of the Blackwald Oaks with the flames of the bonfire until it ran easily and used it to draw runes on Trix's skin.

I spoke the words I felt in the moment, but soon after they were lost to me. Not for my mind, my ears, but hers.

In that moment I was but a conduit for a ritual that predated all of us.

As she began to shiver from the magic coursing through her, the strength of Tal'Doren bearing down on her and readying to impose its visions, the Blue Child drifted out from behind the trees. Watching.

Even under the light of the sun I still felt its Astral presence on my skin, as comforting a blanket as it had been six months ago.

A comforting blanket I wished I could share with Trix as she shivered and quailed from the visions forced upon her. It was so very tempting to intercede, to witness what she was shown, but I didn't. Here in the centre of the ritual, I could feel the offence that would give.

When I finally broke her free and offered her the waters to soothe herself with, I worried that I had left her there too long. But she smiled up at me. "Giants. Just like you said. Great giants that... that... her hair was green... and... and..." She trailed off, her voice wobbling. "And a big fox. All silver and red. Like Tricks."

"Our ancestors, our ancestors and our goddess, the Keeper Freya." I murmured the words and smiled widely. "I'm proud of you, Trix." I hesitated a moment, remembering my own vision of a Fox. "Who's Tricks?"

The pronunciation was only fractionally different from her own name.

She giggled weakly. "The fox, silly Gwen! She came to me so I get to name her!"

The suddenly named Tricks was a shimmering blurry mess of blues, not silver and red. Though, as I looked at the fox again, I wondered if that was my Mana Sight making a mess of things. From the last time we'd met, I knew she could be disguising herself with an illusion of sorts, but I could just as easily be seeing the substance of it as seeing straight through it.

Or, the fox – Tricks – may simply not be bothering to disguise themselves to me.

"Today we have a new sister!" The Speaker of Ravens declared, raising her arms into the arm and casting the two ravens on her shoulders into flight.

"Though it will take time to learn and time to trust, she is kin now and until the end of her days." The Fox Speaker said.

"Let none deny her place; Gwyneth, bring her into the fold." The Raven Speaker prompted me.

I pulled Trix tight and drew her along, leading my little giggling apprentice over to stand with Vivi and Emma. And a Blink Fox, who demanded more attention from us.

While I caved and did give the little one the attention she kept whining for I had to agree with Trix. Blink Foxes were weird.