A Witch Among Us (Vahn Seele x Madam Mim)

[Vahn Seele]

The autumn wind gave a deep howl against the structure of the carriage, filling the cabin with a distracting whistle as it passed through where it could. Inside of the carriage, a man by the name of Xander Graves looked over parchment under what light he could. The handwriting of the church clerk was abysmal. Even in proper lighting, there would be no way that he would be able to discern every single detail from the report of the church. A lot of it appeared to be the standard accusations: a lost child, whispering and rumor, accidents and lost crops in the village. Tracing his fingertips over the paper where he read, Xander's hazel eyes took it all in. Once he was confident that he had learned all he could from the church's report, he neatly folded the paper and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

With the details committed to memory, Xander leaned forward and drew the curtain on one side of the carriage to the side, looking out at the barren countryside. Small homes could be seen along the way, likely people that chose to live on the outskirts of the nearby village. This had been happening more and more in the nearby village. He was inclined to blame it on the record number of burning pyres within the last few years. Even for the church, a burning every year is quite the number to reach. The province saw fit to send him on their behalf, unwilling to allow a Vatican appointed official to make anymore calls about the citizens of the region. This wasn't a normal request, though. He wasn't just meant to investigate a single witch. Instead of focusing his time on this, his superiors felt it necessary that he remain in the region. With how far away from the city that the village of Acton was, they thought it best that he remain for the winter.

"The bastards want me to freeze." He mumbled to himself, pulling his black coat tighter about himself. With hands stuffed into his pockets, Xander let the curtain fall back into place and rested his head against the seat. Closing his eyes, Xander tried to let the jostle of the carriage lull him into a light sleep. It wouldn't last long, though, as the carriage appeared to be hitting bumpier spots in the road. The terrain was unforgiving to the wooden structure of the wheel and axle, sending every hard bump and rock straight into Xander's upright form.

By the time that he arrived in the village of Acton, Xander's limbs were stiff and his back was horribly sore. Pushing the door of the carriage open, Xander stepped out to look at what would be his home for the better part of the winter. "No wonder they sent me here for the winter. Who else is going to come?" He spoke, his words low and easily masked by the rickety carriage as the driver hopped down. With a light pat against the carriage, the driver, a smaller man with unkempt facial hair and covered in dirt, stepped toward Xander.

"That'll get ya on 'ur way." He said, lingering for a moment while Xander dug a gloveless hand into one of his pockets. Placing a few coins into the hand of the driver, Xander said nothing to him. With no more words spoken between them, Xander began to walk through the village, taking in the sights. He easily stood out as a figure to be noticed. His shoes were properly clean, prior to stepping out of the carriage, his clothes were solid black, but he did not bear any sort of sigil or mark that showed him as a representative of the church. He carried a brown pack over one shoulder, his face neatly trimmed and hair cut. He stood at a heigh of five foot nine inches, with dark brown hair that was barely long enough for the wind to catch and tossle it. His hands bore no scars or callouses and his face was lighter than most men, from time spent indoors. In small villages like these, a newcomer never bodes well, or so had been Xander's experience. Perhaps it was his line of work, working as a witch finder.

With only the wind carrying the cold breeze of coming winter, the sun tried to offer what warmth it could between parts in the clouds, Familiarizing himself with the village's main attractions took less than an hour, leaving Xander plenty of time to see to his affairs about lodging with the tavern. As he had walked through, Xander had made no attempt to be friendly and speak with people unless spoken to. Soon enough, rumors would begin to spread of a mysterious man named Xander Graves, last seen at the inn seeking shelter. Accounts of his height and stature would be hard to pin down, but it would be unmistakable that a new witch finder was in town.

 

[Madam Mim]

There was a sort of sadness in Lorelei's eyes, mixed queerly with gratitude. She shook her head a little. "A righteous man amidst the violent hoarde," she mused. "A still rock in the sea of bloodshed and fire. Maybe if the world had more men like you, you could have been a baker." She met his gaze evenly. "I'm grateful then, I suppose, that if I had to end up where I am that it was you who was sent. For a man who feels God's absence, you certainly are more Christlike than many in this village Xander Graves. Perhaps someone is looking out for me after all...maybe even both of us." She smiled and followed his gaze to the cat when he mentioned him.

"Mm, terror of the woods," she confirmed, happy to move the subject away from such solemn matters. She had more than enough solemnity in her life right now. "I live out there, in the woods just outside of town. Haven't quite managed to figure out how to replace the bricks with gingerbread and the mortar with icing yet, but I'm working on it. Maybe I'll enspell you, baker's son, and make you help me?" Lorelei grinned mischievously, then shook her head. "Frey is good at hunting nearly everything. Mice, rats, birds, stoats, toads, rabbits...he even brought me a beaver once. No idea how he even found the poor thing; it was the middle of winter. But...that was a hard winter, the first after Gunner died, so that kept me in meat for a week or so." She turned her gaze back to Xander. "I figure whatever Frey brings, they're dead anyway; might as well dry out the meat, put it away for winter. Use what skins I can. Got a lovely pair of rabbit fur mittens that way...but birds usually aren't good for much. I usually make toys out of the feathers for Frey, keep him occupied in the winter when he likes to stay close to the house most of the time. I suppose I could smear my face with mud, tie feathers and mouse bones into my hair, erase all doubt in anyone's mind, hm?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Sorry. I joke, I suppose, out of bitterness. These people have known me all my life, some all their lives, and are so quick to turn on me after all of the good I thought I was doing for them. It's almost enough to send me back home, do just that with the feathers and bones and rot, and keep to myself so that this never happens again. Almost. It's just...the ingratitude of it that stings, you know? Not that I'm a hero or anything, or that I expect an award or anything, but after nursing nearly all of them and their loved ones through fevers, broken bones, childbirth, putting my life at risk to help folk with the plague or the pox, that they wouldn't be so quick to turn against me." Lorelei rubbed her eyes, more out of frustration than anything.

"Do you want children?" she asked suddenly, clearing her face and looking at Xander directly again. "Once you've found a woman willing to be a witch finder's wife, I mean. Or is it you on your lonesome from here on out?"

 

[Vahn Seele]

Xander could see that Lorelei was bitter. Her jokes, while they were meant to be playful jabs, were obviously a defense she put up to shield herself from the fact that she was hurt by the community. He understood, quite clearly, what was wrong. One lost child shouldn't have caused him to come along, and he wanted to dismiss this immediately. In his mind, he wanted to. No matter how close he came to saying that she was innocent, something remained to doubt both a guilty and an innocent verdict. This was why he needed to speak to Herr Grau. If he could speak with him, to give himself more time to evaluate Lorelei, this would prove his convictions stronger in one direction or another.

the question of children, and a wife, came up, and it made Xander think about it for a moment. "Given the conditions of finding a woman capable of either traveling with me, or willing to live a life by herself for small portions of the year, I could see having children. A man often wishes to have children to maintain his legacy, but I don't know if that is an ideal vision of my future. The reality is I don't see that kind of miracle ever coming to pass." He said, pushing himself up to stand and lean against the barrel a moment with one hand. "I know that you want to know my ruling, Lorelei, but I'm not able to advocate for a ruling for or against you yet." Though he took a moment to right himself, he did not seem done with his explanation.

"However, keeping you here does little good. This is why I need to speak with Herr Grau." He said, hearing the faint sound of someone outside of the small storage room. "I have enjoyed our conversation, and I hope that we can talk further over the coming weeks. You, Lorelei, are an interesting woman. Your absence from this community would be sorely missed, whether they know it or not." Xander gave her a smile before stepping out of the room.

With the door shut behind him, Xander came out and found Herr Grau, laying out his case as best he could. Skepticism could be read in his face, as no witch finder that preceded him had ever done something like what he was proposing. A witch could not remain in hiding for a month without paying some kind of homage. This was the conclusion that Xander had come to in his studies, as they had to cultivate and maintain their connection to demons. If he could remain accountable for Lorelei's whereabouts during the course of the next month, and nothing bad could be reported against her, then it would give Xander the closure he needed to be able to rule her as an innocent to the people of Acton.

With Herr Grau's approval, Xander returned and laid out how things were going to go over the next few weeks. Xander would spend his days interviewing and monitoring Lorelei on a personal basis. This would mean that she would not be granted unsupervised visits to the sick within Acton, giving him plenty of chance to observe the way that she interacted with the people. She would be able to return to her home, on the condition that Xander stay nearby.

As there was little choice in whether she would accept it or not, as it was either Xander's presence or the pyre, the first week would start with Lorelei resuming her place among the community, with Xander in tow. He would not act in a way to contradict her, allowing her to do her work with the people, but he would remain present to observe. His presence had been seen as negative to some, not liking the sight of a witch finder so close to the place they called home, but it was better than having Lorelei there without him to keep her in check.

Over the course of the week, Xander had learned a lot about the way that Lorelei lived firsthand, taking up room in her home. This had been one of the stranger requests that Herr Grau had found very different from most witch finders. He'd protested that no other witch finder had been this involved, to which Xander gave his reasoning that, if they had done their investigations better, Acton would have been rid of their witch problem sooner.

Taking a risk for Lorelei, as Xander felt she deserved such a chance, Lorelei would be in Xander's company throughout the day and evening.

 

[Madam Mim]

The road leading north out of Acton was long and the paving stones stopped at the border of the town proper. Half a mile after that there was a path one might miss if one didn't know it was there; it was long and winding, dotted with several farmhouses that made up a neighborhood of six or seven families. Nearly at the end of the path was Lorelei's cottage. It was small, but warm and cozy, and she tried to make it as welcoming for Xander as she could given the...unorthodox circumstances.

The cottage had two rooms: Lorelei's bedroom and the rest of the house, which was perfectly fine for a husband and wife or a widow living alone, but made things a little tricky for two unmarried people to live together under the same roof. She made up a pallet for Xander next to the hearth, where she kept a fire going when she could and the stones stayed warm long after it had gone out in the waning days of autumn. At one end of the room the kitchen stood, tidy and smelling constantly of bread and herb poultices. A table stood by the door as a sort of catch-all, where Lorelei removed her hat, coat, and any other outerwear when she came in or grabbed up baskets or tools when she went out. At the other end, near the fire, was a rocking chair and a tatty but comfortable looking armchair. Xander being the guest, she always waited until he chose where to sit before taking her own seat. While herbs and wild plants hung drying from the ceiling, there were no fetishes or altars to strange gods or demons. The altar, of course, was in the cellar which could be accessed only through a trap door in Lorelei's bedroom, which she kept carefully covered with a rug. Behind the cottage was a patch which was clearly a decent-sized garden through most of the year, but by now its produce had been mostly put away into the winter stores and now all that was left were carrots, potatoes, and a few cabbages.

She was as accommodating in her routines as she was in sharing her home. Lorelei was up with the dawn most mornings, taking care to make sure her chickens and Frey had food and water before she took breakfast herself, which was usually the eggs gotten from the chickens and a slightly stale roll from the night before. She had also been careful to introduce Xander to the bees on his first day there as she inspected the hive while they began bedding down for the winter. The honey had already been harvested, she explained, and candles made from the wax. She extracted another promise from him, to put her bees into mourning if she were to die, so that they wouldn't perish. It was an age-old folk tradition that may have seemed strange to city folk, but it wasn't an unusual request for those out here. The rest of her mornings were spent mixing poultices, unctions, ointments, liniments, and syrups to help the people of the village who had turned their backs on her. Afternoons, of course, were spent tending to those same patients. Evenings were usually quiet, with small suppers and quiet conversations by the fire while she sewed or knit by firelight. It was always something useful; headstrong though she was in the face of social censure, Lorelei was still eminently practical when it came to craft and insisted that she could make toys and frivolities once everyone could be decently warm. By his third evening there she had already knit Xander a hat, presenting it with an absolutely straight face and explaining that while his broad-brimmed number was good for swooping about dramatically like an overgrown bat and for the sun of summer, he would thank her when his ears didn't freeze off once the winter winds came howling.

While she tried to keep propriety at the forefront of her mind, Lorelei still couldn't get used to the idea that she ought to be uncomfortable in her own home. She came out of her bedroom each morning in nothing but her shift, head uncovered, hair falling down around her shoulders, shuffling sleepily in her slippers. If anyone from the village had seen her they certainly would have thought her trying to seduce the witch finder. There was a basin next to the sink which she filled with chilly water and bathed herself with a damp cloth each morning as much as modesty would allow. Xander often woke to tiny gasps and sips of air at the coldness of the water, particularly the one morning she'd had to break a thin film of ice over the pitcher.

"Well?" Lorelei asked as they walked down the winding lane to the main road. He had been staying with her for a week and while she still waved whenever she saw one of her neighbors in their field or on their own doorstep, they averted their eyes and quickly turned away, pretending not to have seen. "Not that I'm not fond of you or anything, but the sooner I'm declared not to be a witch, the sooner they may go back to trusting me again, eh?"

 

[Vahn Seele]

Lorelei had been extremely accommodating to the odd request of him staying with her. TO his knowledge, Xander had never known any witch finders to do what he was doing. In a case like this, most would have rather ruled a guilty plea than to risk as much as he was. That was why this was a secret between Herr Grau, Lorelei and himself. The reason was very obvious: it was a mixture of unorthodox and unseemly. Xander put himself in a position of great risk for Lorelei, both in his current standing and future. For anyone to discover that he had stayed in the home of a suspected witch, in the efforts to try and get to the truth, it could call not only himself but his family into judgment. With great risk, though, could yield greater results.

During his first week of observation with Lorelei, Xander had seen quite a bit that showed her to be very much what she said she was. She was acting normal, even almost too comfortable around him. There had been several mornings that Xander had been treated to a view of her in a way no unmarried man should. Rather than draw attention to it, though, he remained silent. It was him putting the imposition on her, and he was not going to make her uncomfortable in her own home. Though he tried to remain proper and chaste with his eyes, there were moments where Xander had stolen a series of glances that he would not soon forget. Any man would be very lucky to have her, not just for her beauty but her dedication to the home that she kept. She had even been kind enough to give him a hat that would provide better coverage over his ears when things continued to get colder there.

Xander had tried to take the extra effort to not be caught in a compromised state around her. Living in such confined quarters, though, was making that fairly difficult. There was no place for him to dress, and he had to often do so as quickly as he could. Whether Lorelei caught sight of him in something less than his intimidating attire as a witch finder or not, she had never spoken of it. So long as they kept their thoughts in their heads, it was almost as if it had never happened.

"I know that it isn't the most orthodox of ways to clear your name, but you know that leaning on the testament of your community is tainted. So far, I see only good in you, but that good is lost on others as the public outcry drowns your character." He said, keeping his eyes forward. "I should be able to speak my judgment soon. I'll, also, compensate you for keeping me in your home, should your judgment lean in a manner that coin would benefit you." Even as the fate that loomed over her head was grave, Xander was doing his best to keep the conversation about it as light as he could. It was his way of trying to set her mind at ease, if that could be done given what stress she might be under.

She was right, though. He had to make a ruling soon. If he didn't, it would only get worse with time. Witch finders were supposed to be faster, as a lingering presence of a witch finder was almost like an unsightly scar, a reminder of the need for digging into the darkness of a community and ripping out the sin. "Between us, I do not think you are a witch." He said, speaking his thoughts on the matter for the first time. It had been something he did not want to say to her, as it would not be proper to discuss, but they had already crossed the line of proper the moment he had taken up temporary residence in her home.

"My problem, though, is compelling evidence to prove my claim. My thought with staying near you as much as I have would be that no witch could hide their nature for long." It was a problem that they both shared, as his lack of ability to prove innocence could be construed as guilt all the same.

 

[Madam Mim]

She had become fond of Xander in recent days, and a few times had accidentally come out of her bedroom as he was getting dressed. A flash of thigh once, a decent view of a well-muscled back or chest...Lorelei obviously wasn't virginal simply by virtue of having been married, but nor was she chaste or prudish. In fact, being libidinous as she was only served to strengthen her bond with her otherworldly patrons. She liked men, enjoyed looking at them as much as they enjoyed looking at her. But if she walked in on him too often he might think she was doing it on purpose--which she also wouldn't have minded if she'd had a better idea of whether he did--and so had been careful to stay in her room until she had heard him settle from dressing. This morning, however, she had once again caught sight of strong shoulders and back and thought to probe to see how his investigation was going before she was tempted to influence the outcome herself.

"Coin would not help either way," she admitted bitterly when Xander spoke of compensating her. "Even if you pronounce me innocent, it will take time to rebuild trust with the community; it may be a while before anyone is willing to sell me anything. If you must compensate me, do so in kind. Give me meat, wool, cloth...things I can use that I don't already provide for myself. The wealthiest man in the world would find his gold useless if he couldn't use it to survive."

After a while, he shared that he, personally, did not think she was a witch. Lorelei smiled. "Well, that's a relief at least," she sighed. "And your reasoning is sound; a witch certainly would have to make sacrifices or dance naked in the woods or whatever she does at some point. Hard to do that if she's always observed." And it had been difficult. Likely some night soon she would have to slip some Valerian and whispered words into his chamomile tea to ensure sound sleep so that she could slip out to the woods. Certainly the gods would understand. "I know that you said you're passing the winter in Acton. If you would like, you're welcome to stay here. After, I mean...whether I live or die, you can stay in my cottage. If I don't make it you can even stay in my bed." She laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck, blushing at the accidental implication she had only heard the moment it came out of her mouth. "I mean ah..." She laughed nervously and looked away. "Why is the square so busy?"

They had arrived into town--and just in time to save her from the awkwardness, she thought--and villagers were huddled in clumps in the town square, muttering among themselves. Paradoxically, there seemed to be a hush over the square. A few glanced up and shied away as they entered the square on her way to her first patient. Through the gathered crowd Herr Brauer came striding with a sense of purpose, Vater Grau in tow, the two of them sweeping through the crowd like a pair of crows. The priest, to his credit, looked more hesitant and contrite and stayed two steps behind the magistrate the entire time.

"Lorelei Himmelschmidt, you are under arrest for the practice of witchcraft." He grabbed the basket of treatments from her and held it out behind him without looking. "Vater." Father Grau took the basket hesitantly, with a somewhat apologetic look toward Lorelei, as the magistrate pulled out her wrists roughly and began tying them with a length of rope. "Herr Graves if you will accompany us to the church."

"What?" Lorelei struggled as he tried to bind her. "No! What is this about? I haven't done anything wrong! Ask the witch finder!" She struggled and fought against Brauer as he dragged her toward the church. "Xander tell them! Tell them!"

Once again Lorelei found herself in the holding cell in the church while the men talked without. "There's been an accident," the magistrate explained to Graves in the hushed tones befitting a church. "As you know, the Werners spoke out against Frau Himmelschmidt last week during your initial inquiry. Their wheat crops failed this year, rotted in the fields, shortly after Frau Werner quarreled with her over the cost of treatment for her husband's goiter. They say yesterday she passed by, whispering under her breath and staring after their boy. Shortly after their cart collapsed. Fortunately the boy was saved, but...well, they had to take the leg. It was too damaged." Brauer managed to remember to look regretful over the incident, though it was clear that he didn't particularly feel one way or the other about it; rather, he remembered what he was supposed to feel about it. After a moment he dropped the look. "Vater Grau has told me about your...unorthodox arrangement as part of your investigation. Do what you must to conduct a thorough investigation, but Herr Graves I'm afraid I must demand an examination." He glanced toward the door. "You must examine her for witch's marks and signs of the devil; it will put them at ease to know that she's not an immediate danger. Unless..."

The magistrate glanced at the door, then toward the chancel. Christ hung there, listening attentively, while the priest went about his business. Herr Brauer stepped in and lowered his voice. "Herr Graves, do not think I missed the familiarity with which Frau Himmelschmidt addressed you," he warned in a quiet tone. "This combined with your unorthodox investigation methods, well...You may have heard otherwise from the village folk but I am, in fact, a man Herr Graves. I'm aware that Frau Himmelschmidt is an attractive young woman, and that examination for signs of bedevilment requires a violation of her modesty. If your impartiality has been in any way compromised, I would prefer that you tell me now and I will conduct the examination myself."