Elle Santiago
Royal Watermelon
Seyis disliked returning to the Coven. The other Witches, few ranked and many unranked, liked to fix a wary glance in her direction as well as give her a wide berth. It made walking the filled halls of the Gateway much easier, yes, but she craved the company of friends and her Coven Sisters. Being a single-digit witch made it difficult for others to approach her, even when in such a safe setting. She had old friends, of course, but some friendships drifted away. Most were dead. It didn’t help that she had the title of ‘The Executioner’, well-known killer of Awakened Beings. It wasn’t much of a surprise why she’d be alone.
Case in point, when she handed off the white-haired apostate witch to the prison guards, the prison guards were a tad intimidated. They weren’t quaking in their boots (if they were, they had no right to be guards), but Seyis did feel their apprehension. It really wouldn’t surprise her if the other witches talked about her as if she was a living warning. Maybe, they’d say: ‘Beware your Awakened forms. The power of Demons are enticing, filled with the promise of eternal magic. If you are caught in their trap, then your humanity will be gone. You might believe, in your inhumane mind, that you’ve made the right decision. Perhaps, you’d kill fellow Witches and other civilians because you could. But know this. The Executioner comes for the Awakened. You will never be bound by death for she will be your Mistress.’
Still, all that reputation, while good, made it difficult to acquire actual friends to spend time with, spar with, talk about magic with, and maybe have a drink with until she, as the common people liked to say, was absolutely shit-faced to the point she wouldn’t remember the previous night to have happened at all. But, alas, the fates of the world conspired her to be alone forever, only spending company with her constructs that she’d made a habit of talking to as if they were real people. If you looked at it from a certain angle, you’d realize Seyis was talking to herself, which was all sorts of pathetic, really.
Maybe that was why she found herself in the Court, watching the proceedings going about. Seyis didn’t bother with these, normally; usually, her Courier would deliver the missions to her, and she’d give him the rundown of her missions in turn, then he’d wish her good luck and go about his way to return to the Coven to deliver the news. Her interactions with her Courier had always been business-like. He was always nervous, though, but he was good at his job, which, in turn, was good enough for her.
Seeing this event first hand was interesting to Seyis, however. It was what she’d imagine the court of nobility would be if they had magic and had magic powerful enough to topple mountains. It wasn’t pretty, all these backdoor politic stuff never were, but it gave insight to current relevant happenings and what kind of people ran the Coven. What Seyis saw in the Murder, she didn’t like, but she was definitely curious about the apostate she helped bring in. From what Seyis remembered, Cascade DuPont (as she told the Coven) was impressive. The nitty-gritty action, she didn’t really notice considering she was too busy killing Lesser Demons, but with her having survived that encounter, well, it was certainly something.
Also, DuPont silenced the Murder. If Seyis wasn’t trained in the arts of nobility, no doubt she’d have to stifle a laugh. But, she was trained, so only the corner of her lips twitched, and if one was specifically looking at her at that moment in time, they wouldn’t be able to know if that twitch signified amusement or displeasure at DuPont’s sheer gall.
Seyis was pleased, though. DuPont didn’t die. Friends might well still be in order if the newly christened Witch didn’t hold a grudge over handing her over to the Prison. Considering that her curiosity was sated, at least momentarily, she walked out of the Court halls then felt surprised. It was the Fourth, looking quite sick. She felt worry for her fellow Witch, with some apprehension mixed in. The almost-Awakening the Fourth had was something she wouldn’t forget so soon. To have her standing upright now was a testament to her willpower to live. Seyis admired that.
She walked towards the Fourth, wanting to ask if it was alright for her to go about in her current state, then Seyis saw it: the Black Envelope. ‘Well, that’s why she looked sick. Anyone would be.’ Seyis picked the letter up from the ground, her eyebrows furrowing into a frown before holding the parchment back to the other Witch. “I believe you’ve dropped this.” She gave a small smile even if a Black Envelope wasn’t something to smile about.
Then that smile froze when she saw something large tromping about. The hair on her skin stood on its end, and she began to tap on her still recovering magic to summon her Knight. But then she saw his features under that moss, failed to feel the oppressive magic of Awakened Beings, and realized that she was, currently, in the safest location there possibly was. Silently, she watched him go about his business, taking a step back from the basket that grew from… somewhere.
When he was gone (or at least far away), Seyis turned her attention back to the other single-digit Witch. “I’m glad to see you out and about, Fourth––Letitia.” She corrected. Habits were a bit difficult to break. “It meant that my effort to carry you over such a large distance while dead on my feet after that affair with the Darkspot wasn’t such a bad investment of my time and strength, after all.”
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