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]

While the witch finder walked through the village square, screams came through a nearby open window. It was the unmistakable wail of labor, accompanied by less distinct sounds which were clearly words of encouragement. Wind swept through the square, sending dead leaves skittering and swirling around Xander's feet, before sweeping upwards to the open window. Inside the midwife threw a glance toward the sill which might have been taken for gratitude before using her bicep to wipe sweat from her brow and push a bit of stray hair away. She was up to her elbows already in blood and other similar birthing fluids, and while she clearly wasn't scared of getting dirty she preferred not to have it on her face.

Caroline Heinz had been difficult for the past eight months; why should the birth be any different? She hadn't listened to suggestions to stay in bed, nor followed dietary restrictions or anything else Lorelei Himmelschmidt had told her, and as predicted this pregnancy had been far more difficult than her previous four. Of course, between the two women--and only them--they knew that this wasn't exactly like her other four pregnancies in other ways, too. Herr Heinz was away on business often, and Frau Heinz got lonely (and bored) easily. Vater Grau had come to the village three years ago after their old priest had died, and the young, handsome priest had subsequently heard many women's confessions about the sins committed for his sake. Caroline had been among these.

"One more, Liebchen."

"I can't--!"

"Just one more, I promise. I promise."

"I...I ca..." She shook her head weakly. But after a few hyperventilating breaths, Caroline took a deep breath and finally, with one last mighty push, a baby boy was born into the world.

A silent baby boy.

Caroline slouched back in the birthing chair, a delirious smile floating across her features. Lorelei, however, frowned. Carefully she opened the baby's mouth and swept her finger side to side. She turned him onto his stomach along her arm and patted his back, gently at first then as hard as she dared. Nothing. The exhausted mother was beginning to push herself upright, concern slowly darkening her features, as Lorelei whispered over him rapidly and pleadingly.

"What's wrong?"

Not allowing her concentration to be broken, she finished her fervent whispering before holding the baby's mouth open and breathing into it. She pressed gently on his chest and waited.

"Lorelei what's wrong? Give me my baby." Devastation melted her features. "Lorelei give me my baby! You wretched little girl give me my baby!"

The midwife shook her head, sadness creasing her fine features. "I'm sorry Caroline. I'm so sorry. I..." She looked down at the tiny, still form in her arms. He was so dreadfully still. "We need to get him to the church. Vater Grau will look after him." It was a promise as much for religion as for family. "I'm sorry." She didn't know what else to say. Lorelei had been the village's sole midwife for five years, and had trained with the old midwife for another five before that. In that decade she had never once lost mother or babe. Not once. She glanced out the window, wondering briefly if this was punishment for calling on the gods to aid a Christian.

No. She couldn't think of things like that. Not right now anyway, not when there was work to be done. With a sniff she wiped at her face, this time smearing blood across it, as the servants came in to clean up their mistress. Clearly they'd been standing and listening outside the door; this was particularly obvious not only by the speed with which they had appeared unbidden but also by the sympathetic looks cast at the little bundle of rags in the midwife's arms. Lorelei gestured with her chin toward the door and the head maid nodded before returning her attention to the wailing woman in the chair. Her throat burned with unshed tears as she rose and left faster than was probably appropriate, but still slower than she would have wished.

Down in the town square as Xander made his bee-line for the tavern, he was intercepted by two figures. A younger man dressed entirely in black, much like the witch finder himself but distinguished in occupation by the ubiquitous dog collar of the clergy, crossed the square at a decent clip. The wind tousled his hair and made his robes flap like the wings of a great black bird or perhaps a bat. As he crossed the cobblestones he lifted his gaze from the witch finder only once to spare a glance at the open window where the setting sun struck fire from the closed glass around it. Almost as soon as he had, someone pulled it closed and he focused again on Xander. His smile was friendly as he reached a hand out to shake.

"Herr Graves, I presume? Yes, we were told you were coming and I'm so glad you're here." He shook Graves's hand vigorously. "I've been doing all I can to keep the forces of evil at bay, but I feel like a tiny little dinghy tossed about on the ocean in a great storm. I'm sure if you can help us pull out the evil by the root over winter, it will go a long way toward making our little burg safe again. Ah, yes!" He opened his arm in a welcoming gesture to the second, older man who had seemed just as eager to meet the newcomer but refused to allow it to show. "This is Herr Bauer," Vater Grau explained, "our magistrate."

"Herr Graves." Bauer's smile didn't reach his eyes as they shook hands. The man had seen too much evil in recent years, and while a semi-permanent witch finder was a welcome addition to their arsenal he had every reason to mistrust outsiders at this point. "We're glad to have you. If there is anything I can get you, any way in which I can be of service, please don't hesitate to ask. Come! I believe you were on your way to the inn? We'll make sure you're given proper lodgings." He gestured with one hand, and with the other put a hand on Xander's shoulder and steered, making it clear he had no choice in the matter. The wind barely touched him. It stirred his pant legs but didn't dare get more presumptuous than that. His shoulder-length hair stayed pulled back and tied in its ribbon, every hair neatly in place beneath his hat, and his coat didn't billow and blow the way the other two men's did. There are some men that no god will touch without cause.

As the trio turned, though, they were stopped once again by the sight of a petite figure jogging out into the gloaming. Blonde hair pitched about her face, obscuring it, and pasted her skirt against her legs as she walked briskly across the cobblestone toward the church. Once, she managed to shake her hair out of her eyes, sending a blonde mane streaming after her like a woman borne on the wind instead of fighting it. It was then, as she turned her head, that she spotted them and changed course mid-step. She was small, no more than five feet or so. Her figure, revealed by the wind, suggested that she didn't often have to skip meals, but neither did she have the softening curves of motherhood at her hips and thighs. A shaft of dying sunlight fell between the buildings and, as she walked through it, struck gold from that wild mane and aquamarine from her eyes. As she shook the hair from her face again the sunlight highlighted the contrast of her freckles...and of the blood smeared across her nose and mouth. Blood also clotted her fingernails and crawled up her arms, just past her elbows, and she gripped a cloth bundle tightly in her arms. If the other two men were alarmed to see a young woman, no hat or coat, covered in blood, wandering their streets, they didn't show it.

"Ah yes!" Grau gestured, holding out an arm in welcoming as she approached. "Frau Himmelschmidt, the town midwife. She's also been known to dabble in herbal remedies, when the illness is too small to call for a doctor. Frau Himmelschmidt, our new witch finder! Herr Xander Graves."

The corner of her lip twitched briefly in annoyance. "Anything short of plague is too small to call for a doctor," she pointed out with forced humor before turning her eyes to Xander. "And call me Lorelei, please. Everyone does." She manged a brief smile before her expression fell back into looking as though she was about to cry. "Erm...Vater...?"

"Ah yes, I'd heard it was Frau Heinz's time. How are they...?" Halfway through the question, Grau's gaze dropped to the bundle in her arms.

Lorelei's chin quivered and she shook her head. "I um..." She swallowed hard and shook her head again, then held out the bundle. "I thought it best to bring him straight to you. Caroline is...well, she'll live." In the shadow of the dusk it was easy to think that the look in her eyes might be sympathy.

"Yes." He cleared his throat as he took the bundle. "Yes. Um...gentlemen, if you'll excuse me. I'm afraid the Lord's work never rests, as you well know Herr Graves." He tried to be jovial but his heart wasn't in it. "Yes. If you'll excuse me." The same brisk pace with which he had met Xander was used to retreat back to the church, and he was grateful for the wind and the darkness.

A beat.

"And now, Frau Himmelschmidt," the magistrate had never once in her entire life called her Lorelei, "if you'll excuse us, Herr Graves is probably tired and needs to find a room. And you, my dear, ought to clean up. This time of evening, this time of year, you're likely to frighten someone."

She lowered her chin and curtsied. "Yes, Herr Richter." There were men in the village she knew she could challenge, and men she knew she couldn't. Bauer landed squarely in the latter category. He was already steering the witch finder away as the wind carried her voice to them. "It was nice meeting you, Herr Graves. I hope you have a pleasant stay."

 

[Vahn Seele]

One of the advantages of being in a larger city that Xander had preferred was the anonymity. It was easier to observe a population when one was left to be anonymous. That had always been a difficulty that he was presented with when being asked to take positions in these smaller villages. Everyone knew when to act on their best behavior, and shaking loose the truth was like pulling teeth. The other problem was that there were men who viewed themselves as higher than their position. Magistrates were always the most difficult to work around, because of the power struggle that came from being a new person in the community, outside of their control.

Priests, on the other hand, could be a mix of both helpful and annoying. Much like a physician treating a plague, they could either stem the tide and bring a settlement to a full recovery, or they could focus on the wrong symptoms and leave a village to fester and rot, leaving only amputation a viable option.

"Yes, that is me." He said, letting his attention focus on the first man to approach. Taking in the image of the man, Xander picked him out as the priest fairly easily, given the collar that he wore around his neck. In the papers that he had received from the church, he had been given some of the names of the officials he would be working with. For those that were serving in positions of importance, he was also given a small amount of information on them, such as name and years served in the community. "I hope to be able to render aid, Herr Grau." Xander said, his lips tilting only slightly into a passive smile. With his job, Xander had to be suspicious of everyone. As the outside, neutral party, only he could be an objective observer and report the facts back to his superiors.

With the weight of travel and sleeplessness lingering over his shoulders, Xander didn't feel up for a game of introductions with people. These were things that could wait until he had had time to get proper rest. As it was now, his mind was still committing his new "home" to memory. In the name of "hospitality", though, Xander was treated to being introduced to the magistrate, "Herr Baeur." Xander said, his smile seeming smaller than the magistrate's.

Amidst the conversation, with Xander being drug along to listen as the talkative priest led the way, Xander's gaze came across a strange sight. Xander was no stranger to blood, but seeing a woman carrying a clothed figure, blood on her hands, was never something that should be treated with calm. Did Grau not take the sight as serious? Perhaps it was Xander's presence that made him less likely to panic, a side effect of the calm that a witch finder might bring to a settlement. As she approached, the setting sun bathing her in warm light and soft orange, Xander's gaze remained on the bloody hands that held the cloth.

When she was introduced, Lorelai's name rang a bell from his notes. She had served the community for quite some time, enough to gain recognition for her good deeds. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lorelei." He said, giving a faint bow of his head as he spoke. With so many people involved in the conversation, Xander was afforded the opportunity to, basically, watch and observe. The magistrate's tone with Lorelei left him to wonder if he had some sorted history with the young midwife. With the bundle passed to the priest, Xander gave a faint nod to him. "I'm certain I will work with you more in the coming days, Herr Grau." Xander said.

"Thank you, Lorelei." He said, looking to the magistrate who began to guide their path toward the tavern. Without the priest present, the magistrate was fairly quiet. He would speak up only enough so that Xander had some explanation of who he was being introduced to. When they set foot inside of the inn, everyone's attention was drawn to Xander and the magistrate. With the magistrate staying level with Xander, walking an even pace to the front of the counter, a young woman named Shae Riechel greeted them with a warm smile. "Herr Baeur, what a pleasant surprise. And, you are...?" She asked, the pale woman tilting her head a little toward Xander.

"Xander Graves, I believe that a letter was sent here in my name explaining the length of my stay?" He asked, Shae immediately giving a nod at the name. "Yes, yes, I had thought it was you, but did not want to assume." She said, stepping away from the counter and retrieving a key from a drawer. Holding it out to him, Xander took the key and pulled it back to place in his pocket. "If you need anything, please let us know. We are a small inn, but we keep a clean home for our guests." She said, Xander giving a nod before looking toward the magistrate.

"Get your rest, Herr Graves. There is much to be done in our village." He said. Without another word spoken, the magistrate stepped out of the inn, boards creaking beneath his feet. Giving a respectful nod toward Shae, Xander excused himself with his belongings to a small room on the second floor. The stairs were in good enough shape, but they gave a creak as he walked along them. With key in lock, Xander stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Inside of the room, the basic amenities were provided: A bed with blankets, a table and chair, candle for light, and a small chest to place his things at the foot of the bed. Placing his bag onto the table, Xander began to move through his nightly ritual of readying himself for bed. Using the wash basin that was stored in the room, Xander made quick work of washing away the day. Feeling refreshed and clean, Xander made a few notes in his journal, setting quill to paper as he recounted the brief moments he had had with the citizens of the small village.

With a fitful night's rest, Xander rose the following morning with the sound of a faint knock on his door. "Herr Graves, we are serving breakfast downstairs." The voice was feminine, presumably Shae's. Getting himself up and ready, Xander made a quick once over of his clothing. Donning his attire once more, Xander joined the main area where breakfast was being served. With a quiet introduction of himself to the table, Xander sat before what appeared to be only the family of the inn. Shae and her father sat on one side of the table, both eating quietly. There was no sign of a mother to Shae, and she seemed too young to be a wife to Adel Riechel. Adel was far older, with signs of gray above his ears. The gray stood out against the brown atop his head, wrinkles spreading from the edges of his eyes. His hands were coarse, with signs of work that Xander's hands had not seen.

With only light conversation, nothing more than talk of travel and the quality of the meal, Xander excused himself to begin his work.

 

[Madam Mim]

Konrad Grau wasn't the only one to pray and mourn for the tiny lost soul that night. In the cellar of the home which she had once shared with her husband, Lorelei knelt at an ivy-wreathed altar and carefully placed her offerings. Milk for the Goddess, meat for the Horned God, both would be gone in the morning as they always were. In a voice choked with tears she croaked prayers, pleading with her gods to offer the child safe passage into the afterlife. Then she pleaded for answers. Why him? Why Caroline? Was she, Lorelei, being punished for some transgression she hadn't realized? She had never lost a baby yet, and a number of times that had been thanks to quick thinking and a little bit of magic. This time, however, not even her magic had been enough to save him.

The thought kept her up. Lorelei slept fitfully, dreaming of the baby and the priest and the dark eyes of the witch hunter watching her. She was up with the dawn to feed the half dozen chickens she kept, feeling as though she hadn't slept at all. After breakfast she walked back into town proper to make her rounds; Herr Eberhardt had a nasty case of gout she was treating, and Anna Keuhler had broken her leg two days ago so that needed looking after. Really it was her father who needed looking after, but no matter how much Lorelei complained to the Magistrate he wouldn't do anything about it. No one would. So the best she could do was look after the girl and her brother herself, and offer them help or escape whenever they needed it. Then, of course, there was Caroline. Lorelei sighed and shook her head as she walked and thought about Caroline Heinz. What should she say to her? What could she say? Child death was common enough in other parts of the country, but not here. Not where Lorelei had her steading, where she watched over her people.

"We stand at the threshold," Frau Aching, her predecessor, had once told her. "We stand at the door of life and death, and must shepherd our people through the threshold either way. It's our duty to be there."

"'At beginnings and endings,'" Lorelei quoted to herself under her breath. Frau Aching had taught her to look at their profession as a shepherding of sorts: through birth, through death, and through all the aches and illnesses in between. She pulled the babe into the world, she sat vigil for the dying...and she took on the burden of those left behind. With a sigh she brushed a bit of hair out of her face.

The town square felt...different. The midwife looked around with a frown for the danger, feeling like a rabbit in an empty field. The square was bustling with activity, but it still felt as though she was drawing stares as she crossed. She deliberately kept her eyes from drifting to the center, where they had built pyres in the past. The council had decided to keep it there as a warning to other witches. That hadn't kept Acton from gaining the nickname Zauberindorf from neighboring villages and eventually the province as a whole. Even above all the bustle the slam of a door was clear. Lorelei winced while others looked around for the source of the noise.

"Frau Heinz...Caroline, please, this is serious--!" Vater Grau jogged after Caroline, who was storming angrily across the square toward the inn. He glanced guiltily at the midwife as they passed.

"I won't--! You should know better than anyone!" she argued shrilly. As though it had registered a beat too late, Caroline froze, spun on her heel, and marched back the few paces to the midwife before grabbing her firmly, painfully, by the arm.

"Ow! Frau Heinz what--?"

"You know very well what!" Caroline snapped, dragging her along. "And now we'll see what the authorities have to say about it!"

"About what?"

"About you!" She was vicious in her reply, but refused to give any more information. In addition to stitches and herbs to help stop the bleeding, Lorelei had quietly cast a spell to help Caroline heel more quickly from the difficult birth. That spell, at least, had worked. After a kerfuffle in the inn, ignoring the priest's protests about the seriousness of this charge, the door to Xander's room burst open. A righteously furious Caroline came charging in, dragging the younger woman behind her before tossing her at his feet. "A witch!" she pronounced triumphantly, pointing a vicious finger.

Lorelei's brain froze. How could she...? "A what?" She didn't. Not really. She couldn't know; the midwife had been so careful! She was grieving after the loss of a child. It was natural to blame the midwife. Still, the thought sent a cold chill tingling across her scalp. Lost children were how other midwives had gotten burned, too. "I'm not a witch, euer Eheren," she protested, using the honorific in case he was the type of man who needed his ego stroked. "I'm not! She...she lost a baby yesterday, she's mad with grief and knows not what she says!"

Caroline spat at her with a sneer. "That's what a witch would say, isn't it?" she snarled. "Of all the babies you've ever delivered and mine is the one--the only one--that's lost? And I saw her casting a spell!" she added to Herr Graves. "She's a witch, euer Eheren, and for that she must pay!"

 

[Vahn Seele]

With Xander taking himself upstairs to his room, he looked upon his his notes from the day prior. Pulling the notes he had been given from the church, and his superiors, Xander gave himself some more time to consider what he had to do. There was talk that another witch would sprout up, that the winter would give a witch time to perform nefarious deeds after the snowfall prevented a witch finder from making their way to the small village. They'd suspected that the unusually high rate of children born could be a sign, but Xander was not fond of casting suspicion based on a sole statement of good fortune. Skilled midwives and physicians should not be cast a guilty view merely based on good fortune.

After an hour of consideration on his notes, Xander placed a hand over an eye and rubbed lightly at it. "I pray that my presence alone will keep a witch at bay, but that's never stopped them before." He said, giving himself a moment before closing his book.

The sound of storming footsteps, a screaming Shae downstairs could be heard. "You mustn't go up there!" She shouted, the steps determined and not ebbing as Xander prepared himself. This would be the first of many accusations to be cast, and his immediate guess was that of a grieving mother. Tragedy always befell accusation, sad as it may seem.

With no surprise showing on his face, Xander remained seated as he turned to see the blonde woman, Lorelei, tossed at his feet with the accusation made plainly. The priest stood nearby, along with the grieving mother of the child he had seen Lorelei holding the evening before. Invoking the accusation, Xander held up his hand, looking toward the priest for a moment. "Herr Grau, as a witness, please remain in the room." He said, Xander standing up as he looked toward the woman.

"You are Caroline Heinz, correct?" He asked, picking up his book and quill as he turned to a blank page. "Y-Yes... Frau Heinz." She said, her words still containing hatred, but making sure none of it was pointed in his direction. "I ask you to remain silent, Lorelei, as accusations must be heard. However, this is not to leave this room." He said, looking to the priest who gave a nod, shutting the door. Already, Xander appeared to be a man who could command a room, his charisma rooted not in status but in his calm demeanor.

Caroline set into an account of the details, her mind foggy from pain and suffering. "She spoke over him, I could hear her chanting!" She shouted, Xander giving her a hard look. "I appreciate your sorrow, as a child lost is harrowing, but your account is best left unheard by others." Xander said, jotting down a few notes. "Herr Grau, do you find this testimony to bear fruit, or is this a mother lashing out over a lost child?" Xander asked, making sure he didn't bring his eyes to meet Caroline's. He knew she was staring daggers at him, upset for him not immediately believing the claim.

"I... believe a grieving mother could cast aspersions in mistake. Lorelei has been very capable in birthing, bringing many healthy children to Acton." Xander gave a faint nod, moving his eyes to look upon Lorelei.

"Please stand, Lorelei." He said, holding out his hand in offer of help. Whether she took it to stand or not, Xander drew his gaze back to Frau Heinz. "As you were granted a chance to speak, so shall Lorelei. I will not condemn people to the pyre unjustly and without enough testimony to warrant a burning." He said, turning his gaze back to Lorelei. "Tell your account, please." He said, bringing his quill back to page for further notes.

 

[Madam Mim]

Caroline's mouth opened and closed wordlessly in her rage. When she finally found her voice again, she turned her fury on both men. "How dare you! How dare you!" she snarled through her teeth, lashing out at the witch finder who discounted her testimony, and her lover who belittled her anger, her concerns. "My child is dead and you think that it is all because I'm grieving? Ten years! Ten years she's been our midwife and not a single child has been lost! Then my--"

"Then why would I be the witch if it's my reputation on the line?" Lorelei sniped back, finally losing her patience.

"Ladies, please." Vater Grau held up his hands in a conciliatory manner. "Herr Graves has asked you to be silent."

Lorelei took Graves's hand as she stood, but glared daggers at the priest since his admonition seemed to be largely directed toward her. "Frau Heinz has had a difficult pregnancy almost from day one," she insisted, turning her glare to Caroline. "She refused my advice and it led to a difficult birth. The baby was breech, sir, coming out feet-first. By the time I realized, it was too late to turn him and his shoulders got stuck. When finally he came into the world I saw that the cord was wrapped around his throat. I wasn't casting spells I was praying."

"Not in any language I've ever heard!" Caroline interrupted. This much was true: the language of Lorelei's faith, of her occupation, was the ancient language of the Goths and the Normans come before her. "She was chanting in some heathen tongue before she put her lips to his and...and..." Her voice broke with tears. "And sucked the life out of him! She took his breath, Herr Graves! She stole my boy's breath and has trapped his soul among the damned!"

It was Lorelei's turn to mouth soundlessly for a few moments. "Of all the ridiculous--!" She couldn't explain that she had been trying to breathe life into him. "Herr Graves, difficult births happen all the time. Babies die all the time. It has been by good training and good fortune that this is the first I've lost; I'm used to my patients listening to me."

"But not the first time you've lost someone not in childbirth, hm?" Caroline's lip curled. "Ask her about her husband, Herr Hexenjager. About how they were married only a year before he died."

"He died of plague!"

"When you were able to save others of the very same illness!" There was a note of vicious triumph back in her voice. "Others caught plague that year, but who does it carry off? Her husband and her mentor. The first left her a house with a little land, the second left her the only healer in the village. Funny how that works out, isn't it?"

"How dare you..." Angry tears quivered in the midwife's eyes. "I loved my husband, and I loved Frau Aching. I would have done anything to save them. Don't you think if I were to sell my soul to the Devil for anything, I would have sold it for them?" Her hands clenched and unclenched into fists at her sides.

"You stood the most to gain by their deaths," the grieving mother retorted. "Have you not come into greater esteem since then? Have you not positioned yourself as the lone soul who knows what's good for our bodies? Have you not profited by your house, your animals, left to you by your husband? You came from nothing, Lorelei Fischer, and Gunner Himmelschmidt pulled you out of the mud, higher than you could have ever expected. I wouldn't be surprised if you married him just so you could kill him and take his property."

Vater Grau blinked in surprise. "Lorelei...?"

She pressed her lips together and inclined her head a little. "Gunner wasn't a wealthy man, but he had more than my parents could have ever hoped. And because he was older than me...I suppose people never stopped talking. I thought gossip and slander was against the Bible." She glared at Caroline. Gunner had been sixteen years her senior, and at 35 marrying a 19-year-old girl had seemed an odd choice to most people, but they had never bothered much with what other people thought. Now at 25 she had been a widow for far longer than she had been married, and Lorelei began to consider that perhaps it was time not to care what people thought, but to listen out for it. Clearly the gossip from when they had first married had never quite been put to rest, particularly since they had been married a year and still childless when he died.

 

[Vahn Seele]

Watching the exchange between the two women, Xander was at a loss. Not because he didn't know what to do, but he had rarely had an accusation cast this fast that had enough merit to look into. He could have put aside the loss of a child, as childbirth was a difficult thing. No midwife or physician was capable of saving both mother and child every single time. They had been fortunate in her presence for most of the births within the last ten years. This left the other details that were brought to his attention. Death was an unfortunate part of society. Having as many deaths that left one to benefit, though? That was less circumstance and more coincidence.

Each side had a good argument against it, too, which left Xander wondering if this was enough proof to start his investigation. There had been a prior request to look into Lorelei if she were to become suspicious, which left Xander's hands tied on what he had to do. What it didn't do, though, was demand that he fall into their barbaric practices of how they sussed out a witch.

Looking to Herr Grau, Xander gave a little sigh. "I had hoped that I would have time to settle in before an investigation. Just as you had said before, though, there is no rest." Vater Grau looked to him with equal parts understanding and doubt. If there was a discernible truth to the stories, they'd be losing a valuable member of the area. Without a midwife, or someone to help with medicine, there would be bodies piling up in the streets come spring.

Instead of turning his gaze back to Lorelei, Xander turned to look at Caroline. "An accusation of a witch is a serious offense. Being wrong carries the consequences of burning and killing the innocent. I don't take my job lightly, no matter how damning or small the evidence might be." He said, a grave tone settling into the conversation. "If I find that you have spoken with others, forced them to assist in your claims against Lorelei, there will be consequences. I don't say these things to scare you, as a false accusation won't send you to the pyre. It will, however, mark any future trust in testimony from you with doubt. Lying is a sin, after all, and all sins are equal in the eyes of the Lord." He said, throwing a little scripture in for effect before looking to Lorelei.

"You'll be given your chance to speak on these accusations. I do not rush judgment and, for the sake of the village of Acton, I would like this investigation to be done in private. That said, you will have to be held in custody during my investigation." He said, then turning to look at Vater Grau. "Do you have a place she can be held in the church, or where is best for these things? So long as Lorelei willingly cooperates with my investigation, I see no reason to display her accusations openly in the streets, much as Frau Heinz has done now." He said, casting a slight glare toward the woman. Pulling Lorelei into the inn, where the known witch finder was, would make others willingly jumping in line to cast their own doubts against her for past slights.

"I-If she is willing, there is a room in the church she can be held in. Shame to say it, but it has become the holding place for most convicted witches in the past." Vater Grau said, looking to Lorelei. "Will you meet with me at the church willingly, per Herr Graves's request?" He asked, looking with a mixture of betrayal and sympathy toward her.

Caroline, all the while, had a different look about her. Her confidence had been shaken. No witch finder had ever acted this way, speaking to an accuser as if they were just as guilty as a witch. "Herr Hexenjager, you cannot hold me accountable for reporting crime! That is not the way that it is done. If it were to come up false, with such testimony from myself and others, then it would be you responsible for not carrying out proper justice." She said, earning a hard scold from Xander.

"I will forget that you spoke these words, as if telling me my role in the process. I wasn't telling you these things to scare you, but to remind you of the importance that my investigation not be filled with lies and gossip. I am the one who has to carry out judgment, and the weight of killing an innocent is mine to bear. I merely remind you that, though i will bear the task, you also must keep silent during my investigation. Gossip and slander hide truth." He said, drawing his gaze back to Lorelei.

"Will you go with Herr Grau, retaining your status, while I start my work?" He asked, showing a strange neutrality to his voice and eyes. He hadn't condemned her, not yet. He wanted the truth, and the words of one woman were not enough to warrant damnation yet.

 

[Madam Mim]

Lorelei swallowed hard when Herr Graves announced that he had to hold her. But she wasn't going to cry, she wouldn't throw herself upon his mercy, not quite yet. To do so would be nearly as bad as admitting guilt, and to mark herself as unworthy of protection. Her gods would shield her so long as she stayed true. She lifted her chin in a proud sort of expression as she looked calmly over at him. "Herr Hexenjager, I'm afraid this cannot be kept secret," she said solemnly. "Not if you are to keep an eye on me as any authority of the state or church must of an accused witch." Here she spared a chilling glance for Caroline. "I have patients to attend; I cannot abandon my flock, sir, any more than Vater Grau could abandon his. Vater, I'm more than willing for you to accompany me on my rounds, or for patients to be brought to me in the church, while I await examination and trial. But I cannot allow the barbed tongue of a single grieving woman to put the entire village in danger."

Caroline made a noise of indignation, but the priest put a hand on her shoulder to still her. "I am willing to accommodate your duties in whatever way Herr Graves sees fit. But she's right, Herr Graves," he added, addressing the witch finder. "If she's held away from her duties, not only will others notice, but others will also begin dying. Frau Himmelschmidt is an integral part of our society."

He always did that, used big words like integral when he was nervous. Lorelei had noticed Grau's curious speech patterns when he'd first come to the village, and had made a game of finding patterns in them. This caused the corner of her lip to twitch briefly in amusement, though she was able to keep her face solemn.

"I'm willing to stay the night in the cell at the church," she volunteered, "but I have chickens to feed and people to heal; I can't languish there all day for weeks on end while you conduct your investigation."

The arrangements were made for Father Grau to follow Lorelei on her rounds, and they would work out a schedule between themselves to accommodate both her duties and his. They hadn't been unfriendly before, but the friendliness grew as they worked together. The priest was kind and brought her some clean hay and a blanket for her cell, and as good a food as he could manage. But this didn't go unnoticed by the others. They were simple peasant folk, but they were capable of putting two and two together: Lorelei had lost her first baby the day the witch finder came to town. The next day, the baby's mother had dragged her to where the witch finder was staying. Now Caroline wouldn't talk about what had transpired, the priest was following her everywhere, and she was sleeping in the church. That was when the whispers started. People started talking amongst themselves. She had always seemed so nice. But she had also always been a bit odd, hadn't she? And it was strange that a man like Gunner Himmelschmidt had ever even looked twice at her. And now that you mention it...

Within the week, a dozen people had been to see Xander.

Lorelei keeps familiarity with a great black cat. He follows her everywhere, and now he waits outside the church for her but won't go in.

Lorelei cast a love spell on her husband after being spurned by Bronn Golding.

I saw Lorelei in the woods on the witch's sabbath.

I heard Lorelei praying to heathen gods after church.

Lorelei and Frau Aching always knew who was sick before even they did. I think they were casting spells.

One time, Lorelei quarreled with her neighbors and then all of their wheat died of blight.

Lorelei walked by an oxcart and just a few minutes later it broke an axle and hobbled its owner for life.

There were a good number of rumor such as these, and more kept cropping up as the villagers searched their memories for any time the midwife had been crossed, or any unexplained happenings that might be tied to her. Once they thought about it there were, it seemed, quite a few incidents where she had either been involved or nearby. She stood at the door between life and death, and that made them uneasy. On the seventh day, Vater Grau forbade her from leaving. When she hotly asked why, he explained that people were starting to rile themselves up against her, and he thought perhaps it would no longer be safe for her out there. With a sigh, she resigned herself to her hay pile, talking to the cat that sat by her window.

"Herr Graves?" the priest knocked quietly on his door then poked his head in. "I just wanted to let you know...whenever you're ready to erm...interrogate the accused, she'll be in the church. It isn't safe out there anymore."

 

[Vahn Seele]

Xander gave a moment of thought to what Lorelei proposed. To be accompanied by a member of the church, while still attending to her duties, was an unconventional answer. It did, however, leave the village in a better place than if he were to keep her locked away. The truth of the matter was that he would not be able to conduct his investigation without stirring suspicion. Once the blood was in the air, people would come out in droves to try and add their information to the pile, uncaring that what they might be offering would be counter to what he wanted.

"So long as Herr Grau is willing to accompany you, I see no problem. So long as you are watched closely, I will do my best to get answers as swiftly as I can. Unfortunately, I can only work so quickly, as swift justice is rarely proper." He said, looking to Vater Grau.

Before the group was split, Xander made a statement, pointedly towards Caroline. "I don't relish these kinds of investigations. I know that you, Lorelei, are an important part of this community. Whatever judgment you hold to my process, remember that I am not the one who called for this." He said, gaze shifting to Caroline. "Any detriment that my investigation puts on this village belongs to those that accuse." With that, and a particularly stinging gaze from Caroline, Xander excused them all so that he may begin his conversations.

From then on, each day was spent trying to find as much information as he could. Having the interviews was difficult, as he had to have them in a way to keep things quiet, while also getting specific information on the specific party. Fortunately for him, Xander had the advantage of being an outsider for these conversations. He could impose the literal fear of God in anyone with a stare, as there were few that knew where he was tied to. Being a Hexenjager that worked independent of the church bore its advantage, but it did leave him on his own. In the years that he had done this kind of work, inheriting it from his father, Xander never enjoyed what he did.

Once a week had passed, the word was already spread too far for Xander to get anymore usable information. The rest that he received, unless it was with eye witness testimony, would be tripe compared to what his first few days had gleaned. As he peered over his notes, the knock at his door drew Xander's attention.

"I will be right there. I appreciate your accommodation during this period of familiarizing myself with the village of Acton. There were a lot of stories, but I'm hoping that this will help get us to the truth of the matter." He said, standing up with book in hand. With a slight snap of the book closing, Xander gathered his things and moved with Vater Grau out of the inn. With a polite wave to Shae, Xander made his way back to the church, parting ways with Father Grau as someone came to him with an emergent need.

Walking to the church, many tried to keep their gaze away from Xander, while others stared with intensity. They knew who was locked away inside of the church, and they wondered if this would be the day that it was announced. It was rare for an investigation to linger like this, as witch finders were often operating on limited time due to their need of being moved about freely by the church. With Xander, they could afford the time.

Walking through the main chapel toward the back of the church, Xander took in the basic architecture of the church. It had a quality of remaining simple, yet ornate, for a village of this size. Stepping past the pews and toward the back, he moved into the priest's area and approached a wooden door with bars affixed to a crude window. It, truly, was a cell. He'd seen it a week ago, but he never relished coming there. Looking in, Xander looked at Lorelei, giving a faint knock against the wood as he undid the lock on the outside.

"Lorelei, I've come to speak with you regarding your allegations." He said, stepping into the "cell" of a closet. "I hope you do not hold me responsible for these proceedings, but they will occur regardless of feeling or concern. You understand what you are accused of?" He asked, taking a seat atop a small barrel near the door. Even sitting, Xander was still a decent height off of the ground, his clothing showing more dirt and dust from working sun up to sun down on his investigations.

 

[Madam Mim]

Lorelei looked up at the knock on her cell door. Vater Grau never knocked, he always just came in. At the face of the witch finder peering through the door she scoffed and rolled her eyes, continuing her gaze out the window, to the black cat on the other side. It perched carefully on the sill, tail curled around its feet, gazing serenely inward. It glanced at Xander then, in that way of all cats, deemed him unworthy of its attention and continued its silent conversation with its mistress. Folk had told Graves that the cat was big, but now it was plain to see that "big" was a bit of an understatement. Sitting down, back primly straight the way that cats do, the beast sat nearly a foot and a half high. Long fur likely made it appear heftier than it was, but there was no mistaking that solid muscle was packed under all that fur. It blinked slowly at Lorelei, who blinked slowly back.

Xander asked whether the midwife understood the charges and she finally turned to face him again, shifting in her pile of hay, with her lips pressed into a thin line of irritation. "I understand that my community has turned against me. That the people I've known all my life have accused me of the unthinkable, that they think I killed that child. I understand that after all I've done to help them, they've become spoiled enough that a single unsaveable babe means that I'm in pact with the Devil. I understand that a body can do a million good deeds in their lifetime only to have it struck out by a single failure. It's enough to make a girl bitter." Her smile was, indeed, just that: bitter. "I understand you've probably heard a fair number of rumors in the past few days. That I enspelled my husband, killed my mentor or allowed her to die when I could have saved her, that I dance naked in the full moon or some rubbish, that I have a witch's familiar who follows me around everywhere. Have you met him?" She gestured to the cat on the other side of the window, who blinked slowly and turned a disdainful sort of gaze to Xander.

"His name is Frey. Frau Aching, my mentor, was a wise woman; she knew a little bit about a lot of things. She told me once that Freya, an old pagan goddess, was said to have a slay drawn by cats that look just like this one. So I'm sure that, too, recommends me for a witch. Especially since he follows me everywhere. But that is because he's attached. A few years ago, when he was a kitten, some village boys were throwing rocks at him because he was black, and black cats are said to be messengers of the Devil. But me, I just saw a half-starved little thing that never hurt anybody, about to be stoned to death just because it looks a certain way. So I nursed him back to health, and he has been my companion ever since. Cats have healing powers, you know." She sighed. "But...nobody trust cats, especially black ones, or the women who keep them. When I brought him home Gunner said that people would talk, that I shouldn't name him after heathen gods. Give him some cute sort of name instead, like Fluffig or Mausjager. But he doesn't seem to mind his name, and I haven't seen a single mouse or rat in my house since."

It was a true story, though Lorelei suspected Frey might be a familiar. She also suspected that her goddess, a goddess of fertility, approved of the cat being named after her and that this explained her continued success in delivering babies. Slowly Lorelei turned her face to look Xander squarely in the eyes.

"As I'm to understand it, Herr Hexenjager, after all the good I've done for them the village seems to think that I am a witch."

 

[Vahn Seele]

During his week of questioning and wandering the village of Acton, there had been many stories that were brought to his attention. Among the stories, there had been nothing of good brought to the table. This was something that he had fully expected to come about. If anyone were to come to her defense, they could be considered, at the very least, a sympathizer. Being branded in this manner could leave them in line to join the pyre one day, as rumors would spread that "ever since they had befriended them, they've not been the same."

There had been questionable calls he had had to make in the past. Xander had probably burned his fair share of innocents. This thought kept him from sleeping some nights, and he made sure to learn his lessons from what he believed to be mistakes. As Lorelei began to recount her feelings, her thoughts on the village that had turned against her, he could sympathize. Good fortune had, truly, spoiled them all to the coldness of death. No one could escape it, as man was not meant to live an eternal life. Man, when drowning, has been known to thrash in a way that even their rescuer might go down with them. Xander wanted to believe this was the case with her. Caroline Heinz was thrashing about in the sea, pulling down the first person that she could see with her to the cold depths below.

The only problem was that there were incidents that preceded this one. He could not ignore them, as testimony stood up to back the claims that Caroline had given. Lorelei had become very successful, most of it due to her predecessor and husband, Lorelei now a widow tending to the remains of a village that had, as she said, turned their back on her.

The discussion of the cat was an interesting one. If she was so aware of appearance, why did she do the things that she did? Why should she take the risk? Lorelei's qualities were, not to belabor the pun, bewitching.

"You are correct. As with any of the trials that I have had to conduct, no one speaks well of you." Xander said. "The village of Acton has spent a great deal of its ten years under your watch sheltered from the dark. Sure, they've had witches burned in their square, but those are claims I have yet to investigate. I've seen jealousy and deceit in testimony, over something as simple as a woman not being chosen by a man of status, given favor by an invisible power that was not there." He continued, piecing his thoughts together out loud.

"I wish that I could offer you some vestige of hope, some testimony that said you were innocent. All the good things a person can do, though, will always pale in comparison to the the panicked judgment of a group riled up by claims of wrongdoing." Xander continued. "What I would like to know from you now is simple: Are you a witch, a servant of the Devil?" He asked, choosing to take a direct path with his questioning. "You call the claims ridiculous, but I haven't heard you say you are not. You defend questionable appearance with soft stories, showing familiarity with forces that could put you on a pyre."

Even as he spoke the words, conflict showed in his face. He didn't want to believe any of it. No witch would sacrifice themselves this way, would they? A witch was a selfish creature, stealing the lives of children and spreading darkness in their wake. They were not healers, not without a cost. Everything about this investigation was counter to what he knew, and, yet, he had to proceed. "Are you, Lorelei Himmelschmidt, a witch?" He asked, again, being direct and using her name. Though his words came out with curious inquiry, he hoped that she said no. He didn't want to condemn a good person. Being wrong about this one would leave him doubtful, and his instincts kept telling him to trust that she was. His "training" had taught him to lean on those instincts, and he found himself in question to not only her, but possibly a handful of his past judgments.

 

[Madam Mim]

Lorelei looked at him as he told her that no one had stood for her. No one had had a kind word to say, no one had come to her defense. Well, she couldn't say she blamed them; to stand up for her was to align themselves with a witch, and one wrong move would sign their death warrant. Her nostrils flared as Graves asked her whether she was a witch and pointed out that while she had mocked the claims she hadn't denied them. With a tired sigh Lorelei leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her shift falling to expose one freckled shoulder.

"Herr Graves," she said slowly and clearly, as though explaining to someone who was having difficulty understanding a simple concept. "I am not a servant of the Devil. I am not a bride of Lucifer, a minion of Satan, a worshipper of the Dark Lord...Samael...whatever you choose to call him, I do not serve him. I've never danced naked in the full moonlight." The new moon was best for sex magick, really. "I don't ride to a witch's sabbath on a broom or a pitchfork." She walked. "I don't suckle a familiar at some unnatural teat, nor do I cast curses on my neighbors or pray that demons grant me unearthly power. I've never killed anyone, with magic or otherwise. Never signed my name in any book of the damned." The agreement had been much more...carnal than that. "Never sacrificed animal nor human to any sort of dark spirit, devil, demon, what have you. I go to church and I can say the Lord's Prayer and Hail Mary too, and speak the name of God without so much as a flinch."

She had felt it important that she not lie or deny her gods, and she had done neither. Witch finders, and people in general, were obsessed with the idea that witches only worshiped and consorted with Lucifer. Some of them did, certainly. Perhaps even a large number. But the most beautiful angel in Heaven was only one of many gods which had been all but forgotten when the God of Abraham had come to their land, slaughtering their people and converting them by force. Spiritual rape, that's what it had been; He had sent His followers to force them to pray at the end of a sword for mercy, demanding that they accept Him so that He could save them from what He would do to them if they didn't accept Him. It was disgusting. Her mother had in secret raised her in the arms of the great Horned God Cernunnos, and Frau Aching had passed to her that patron of fertility, the mother goddess. It was through the midwives that Freya was still remembered and honored. Lorelei had never consorted with demons; mysterious fae creatures were the intermediaries of the old gods, and the old gods were not the same as Lucifer. There were other gods that she acknowledged, of course, but these two in particular had called to her, pulled her attachment in a way she had never felt to any other. And it was important to her now that she not deny them in her hour of need, lest they deny her as well.

"As for the 'soft stories,'" she said after a pause, and shrugged. "There's nothing illegal about knowing the names of the heathen gods, and I like the stories. If they're going to put me on a pyre they'll find a reason to do it. Until I die, I'd like to live as my whole self if that's alright with you." She smiled a little. "Tell me something, Herr Hexenjager." There was a slight undercurrent of mocking to her tone. "Do you think I am a witch? You don't sound like you do. All the other witch finders who come to Acton, they always sound so very certain of themselves...but you do not. Why is that?"

 

[Vahn Seele]

Xander gave an inquisitive gaze as he watched her. There was a weight on her, exhaustion showing in her features as the conversation seemed to make her tired. Whether that was because she was tired of hiding the truth, or tired of expelling the truth, over and over, without someone listening. These were the things that a witch finder had to be good at reading, and Xander was doing his best to get the answers he needed. Not from her words, mind you, but from what he could perceive outside of them.

As Lorelei began to give all of the various examples of what she wasn't, Xander founding himself wanting to believe her. Witch finders were meant to be impartial, as they should have no emotional or political reasoning for their actions. They had to be as separate from the world as possible. Even with as impartial as he was trained to be, it still happened that a witch finder could have their judgment clouded by the violent and harsh nature of their work. Usually, within a week, a witch finder could get definitive answers to the question: Are you a witch?

With Lorelei, everything was circumstantial. She'd lost her husband to plague and inherited his estate. She'd lost her mentor, taking her position as midwife for the village. There was, also, the good that she was doing in the community. Were she not the lifeline of this village, sowing good seeds, Xander could make the call that Lorelei was a witch and not bat an eye. In this case, though, he had to be sure, 100%, or he would be damning this village.

The question came up from her about his stance, about his uncertainty, and Xander wasn't sure if he should answer her. "A witch, by my study, is easy to find when there is reasonable evidence. You know, as well as I do, that what I've been told about you is tainted by rumor and superstition." He said, closing his book and resting it against his thigh. "I've seen witches. I've seen what they can do. No witch that I've captured has left me with doubt, once I had the proper evidence against them." He seemed to be dancing around her point, similar to how she had been stepping around his. "If you are a witch, and have cleverly stepped around my questions, you've done no wrong to this community. You have acquired wealth and status by sowing into the community, not by taking from it. In either case, witch or not, I am depriving the village of Acton of a healer when they will need it most in the coming months." He said, sighing.

"Any witch finder who can state, with certainty, that they have found a witch without a personal eye witness account is lying to themselves. There is always doubt, and, it is this doubt that keeps me from saying that you belong in a noose or on a pyre." He said, letting her see the situation from his perspective.

 

[Madam Mim]

Her smile was genuine, but there as something of a bit of friendly mocking behind it. "But if I am a witch who's cleverly stepped around your questions, doesn't that mean that I'm a danger to the community?" she asked. "A witch who could evade the witch finder?" She chuckled a little and shook her head. "I wouldn't exactly call it wealth or status, though. I'm a midwife, sir. I have a garden and food stored for the winter, but that food sometimes runs out. I grow my own herbs for my potions and poultices and what-have-you; I've no money to buy them, or at least not enough to buy herbs and any other supplies I might need for survival. And status?" She scoffed and shook her head. "Until now at least they've been friendly, but I get the feeling it's because they need me. Women like me are feared, Herr Hexenjager, not because we are witches, but because we are guardians of the door between life and death." She smiled again. "They think that a woman shouldn't have that much power."

Lorelei shifted in the hay. "They would find another," she pointed out with a shrug. "Frau Aching had three daughters, they probably picked something up, though none of them wanted to follow in her footsteps. Or they'll send one of her daughters to the next village to find someone, maybe even as far as the city. You'd deprive the of a healer, but only temporarily; I'm sure most of them wouldn't miss me."

Graves told her that there had to be an eye witness and she nodded. "So who's eye-witnessed me?" She was genuinely curious. "Who's said they've seen me consorting with devils or cursing their pigs or whatever rubbish? Or....am I not allowed to know that? For fear that I'll curse them too?"

Lorelei surprised herself at how blithely she was treating the whole thing. She supposed that, deep down, she had expected something like this sooner or later. Rumors if not a witch finder. She imagined that when she ever married again--*if* she did--there would be rumors about that too, that she was an adulterous whore or that she had bewitched them. She sighed and rubbed her face, then folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in the hay, her back against the wall.

"There are village boys. Men," she said at length. "Men I've flirted with. They're not married, none of them, but I imagine you'll probably hear some petty rumors from jealous women who also have their eyes on them." She looked over at him, noticing not for the first time that he was rather handsome himself. "They think that I had my chance. I had one husband already and lost him, so I should leave all the young, good-looking men to them. Take the scraps, the drunks and widowers once I've hit my thirties." She snickered. "So once folk start telling you they saw me bewitching all the handsome young menfolk, keep that in mind, too."

 

[Vahn Seele]

Though he found it strange, Xander didn't treat this interrogation as he might normally have. Without definitive proof, he had no reason to act accusatory. In honesty, he'd have preferred to rule her innocent. However, to rule her that way, it would take more than a week's observation. Truth be told, ruling a person as innocent was difficult to prove, as opinions of suspicion were treated as fact. So long as opinion swayed to her being a witch, there was little that Xander could do to say anything against her. In a way, this turned Xander into an advocate for her to sway opinion. To do this, he'd have to do things full and proper. That included other observations that Xander would have to prepare for at a later time.

For now, Xander felt that withholding judgment was the better answer. Her answers, so far, had been satisfactory. If she had been a patron to demons, she'd recanted any knowledge of ties to them. This didn't rule her, definitively, as innocent, but it was a step in the right direction in convincing Xander.

"You are right that I cannot disclose evidence, or those that have provided it. There is a promise of privacy when people disclose things to me." He said, in answer to her request to know who had seen her. The fact was, no one had, or no one had come forward with that information. If they had, this would have made the interrogation less of a conversation. It, truly, had been informal in the manner of how Xander had been conducting himself. His father, if he were present, would be pretty upset with him for how he was handling this investigation.

"It is not my place to speak on the account of society, and how widows are viewed. 'Til death do us part' is a significant vow, but it does not leave an oath of requirement to remain alone upon said death." Xander said, letting his mind run a little on what was the "appropriate" way to handle death in a marriage. "I would hope that jealousy would not interfere with judgment against you, but I am not naive." He said, moving to stand up from the barrel he was sitting on.

Was the reason he was handling this exchange so different the way he viewed Lorelei? Sure, she had her beautiful features, but there was something deeper beneath that beauty. Xander had always considered himself one to favor women who could take care of themselves. It was an unpopular trait, as Xander had heard many men discuss the beauty in frailty, but it wasn't something that had always appealed too him. Lorelei showed strength, where others would have shown weakness under such intense scrutiny. A week of supervised work, sleeping on hay in a holding cell in the church. Lorelei, while disheveled, remained herself under observation.

"I need to speak to Herr Grau regarding how to move forward. Before I go, though, do you have any further statements you wish to admit to record, or questions?" He rarely offered anyone a chance to ask him questions, but it felt to be the proper thing to do when he was leaning so close to advocating for her innocence.

 

[Madam Mim]

When he admitted that he could tell her who her accusers were, what had been said against her, she shrugged. "No matter. I've few friends anyway, and could probably tell you who has come out against me all on my own." Lorelei smiled ruefully.

In pontificating upon the meaning of marriage vows, she raised her eyebrow a little. "Many would say otherwise," she pointed out. "They would say that I ought to mourn my husband for the rest of my life but, as you can see, I do not wear black." Her dress was, in fact, a pretty shade of light greyish-green. "Widows are human, with our own thoughts, hopes, needs, though many forget that including widows themselves. I had a life outside of my husband before he died; why should I give that up? But I can assure you that there are plenty of young women and girls in the village who think I should do just that. They think it disgusting that a man should want a woman with...experience." She gave him a significant look, then shrugged again. "But that is the way that men work, is it not?"

When Graves asked whether she had any questions for him, she blinked in surprise. A different kind of witch finder indeed. Lorelei thought for a long moment, then asked, "Would you stay with me for a little? Few people talk to me anymore, even as I treat them. Vater Grau is generally good company, but talk of the Lord can get tiresome. A little conversation would do me some good."

 

[Vahn Seele]

Xander never really thought about the differences between widowed men and women. There was an expectation placed un women and men that was very different when it came to a period of grief. It was a complex conversation, and it fed into the fact that Lorelei was not just a normal widow. She'd been educated, in ways beyond just her profession. She, truly, was an asset to the village. The problem came with Xander's theory that witch accusations had been used as a means of "getting back at" others in the community. It was a misuse of the witch finder profession, and it left him wondering if that's what he had fallen into.

While it wasn't a question, more a request, Xander gave a faint moment of thought to her request. "I know that Herr Grau is out on his rounds, tending to the community, so I would have to wait here, anyways, to speak with him regarding your situation." He said. "I can stay and talk, but I'm not sure that there is much of interest I can say. Witch finders don't make small talk very well, if that's what you are looking for." Xander said, a brief reminder that his profession was one of closed lips and hushed secrets.

"What do you want to talk about?" He asked, moving to take a seat on the barrel once again. The posture it took to sit on it was a little tiresome, but it was better than sitting on the floor, and it kept him a respectable distance from Lorelei. It wouldn't be right to move closer to her, as the image of her as a witch, alone with the witch finder, could be construed in many ways by those that might peer in to check on their investigation.

Then again, it also wouldn't do well for him to be seen making small talk with an accused witch, from an outsider's perspective.

 

[Madam Mim]

Lorelei smiled when he acquiesced to staying with her and talking. When he professed to not being good at small-talk she shrugged.

"Witches held in prison aren't good at small talk either," she teased. He asked what she wanted to talk about and she thought for a minute. "Tell me about yourself," she said finally. "How old are you? Are you married? You're quite handsome after all, and I'm curious to know what the wife of a witch-finder thinks of you being gone so much. Why witch-finding? You could have gone into the clergy...or been a fishmonger." Again there was a sort of mischievous teasing behind her smile, wondering whether she would be more or less suspect for flirting with him. "How many siblings have you?" She paused for a moment, pursed her lips, then shook her head.

"Ignore all that," she said, waving her hand as if to wipe away her questions. "That's all small-talk, isn't it? And you don't like small-talk. I don't blame you, you know; it's dreadfully boring, sitting and talking about the weather and your children and whether you think you'll have a good harvest this year. Tell me instead...hmm..." Lorelei pursed her lips and thought for a moment, resting her elbow on her knees and her chin on her fist. Some of her long, blonde hair hung over her freckled shoulders, which were now both bare as her shift had fallen. Eventually her eyes lit up and she looked at him.

"Tell me your favorite smell," she said at last. "Tell me about a taste from your childhood that you'll never forget as long as you live. Tell me about your perfect woman, who she is inside and out. Talk to me about the reasons why your favorite season is your favorite. When you're alone in the woods, what do you hear? Who do you feel is watching you?" A hint of a smile played at the corner of her lip and, for the first time in the conversation, there was no irony or mocking to it. She was, in fact, excited and that was plain in her eyes. "What do you feel when you're walking about in the middle of the night when all the world is asleep? Tell me your favorite tiny detail about someone you were in love with once, a small thing no one else seemed to notice except you."

 

[Vahn Seele]

Xander was about to offer up an answer to her question, when another came spilling out. She seemed to be rifling through her thoughts, looking for the best possible question she could ask. It wasn't as if she had a limited supply of them, as Xander was not going to be able to make any judgments against her. Of course, given how isolated she had become in the last week, it was admirable that Lorelei would hunt for just the right topic to get their conversation going. This showed thought, something that Xander had always felt was in short amounts when he was in these villages spread out to the world.

Her joke about witches lacking social skills made him chuckle. It was very obvious that she was still very on edge, but she was able to take her situation and almost laugh at it a little. It was another refreshing point to Lorelei that Xander noted in the back of his mind. It almost seemed as if she were flirting with him, which made him wonder if she was eager to get under his skin to avoid an unnecessary execution. Once she had settled on a question, something that stuck out as being a very particular question, Xander let himself answer her, taking in her features as she spoke.

The questions left him at a loss for an answer, at first. "Well, Lorelei, I don't think that anyone can turn their nose at the smell of fresh bread. Warm bread, fresh from the oven, has a unique taste and smell. My mother worked as a baker's assistant, learning a few things that she would take home with her. Growing up, we always had bread in the house to nibble on." He said, seeming to skip over the perfect woman question for now. "Winter has always held its place as my season of choice. The brutal cold, chilling to the bone, is a fine reminder that life is fleeting. Death comes for us all, nipping at our boots until it one day can pull us under. It keeps me vigilant to not rush to judgment in my examinations." He said, crossing his arms.

The question to "being alone" and the detail of what he might hear or feel in the woods alone, sent a chill up his spine. "Some might say God is looking down on them to that question. For me, though, I feel an absence. I would almost say that I feel separated from the world when I'm not near people. The only difference between being alone and being around people is the illusion of being among people. Being a hexenjager, few dare to get close to me beyond social posturing." He said, drawing his arms back to his sides, palms resting against the barrel he sat upon. "Of the women that I have looked upon, while beauty has its charm, I find intelligence more appealing. A beautiful face without a mind, or will, is not appealing in the slightest. Perhaps it is the years of studying from my younger days, but stimulating conversation is more important to me than anything else." He said, thinking to if he had answered all of her questions.

"What about you? As an experienced midwife, one who has been successful until recently, what do you look for? You don't strike me as the kind to crave only looks in a man. Perhaps you are more interested in a strong will?" His tone was far less formal as the conversation went on. It carried a hint of personality, even something akin to flirting. It wasn't noticed to Xander, but it would be plain to see that Lorelei had his interest, far beyond that of the conversation they were holding.

 

[Madam Mim]

"A baker." Lorelei smiled. "I could see you as a baker. Always smelling of bread and warmth, never going hungry." But at his explanation as to why he enjoyed winter, she frowned. "Well that's grim," she said bluntly. "But given your profession, I suppose it makes a sort of sense. I'm partial to Spring, myself. Early Spring, maybe mid-Spring, when it rains a lot and there's still a bit of chill. The trees and flowers have buds but haven't blossomed to their full potential yet, and the world smells wet and muddy but you still wake to birdsong. It's proof that life will always find a way, that even after the longest, harshest nights there's still hope in the light of morning. New beginnings after so much tragedy."

She lost herself in the explanation, laying one arm across her knees and stacking the other on top, then leaning her chin on them. There was a small downturn at the corner of Lorelei's eyes, perhaps a glimmer of sadness. But she blinked and it was gone. She had never stayed sad for long; she didn't have that sort of time. Her eyebrows twitched and she tilted her head slightly to the side when Graves talked about being alone, about the absence of God in the woods. It was a queer thing to say, if nothing then because there were things watching in the woods. Most people felt it and chose to explain it with the God of Abraham, but to feel nothing at all...? Strange indeed. And even, as a witch finder, to admit that he didn't feel God everywhere he went was stranger still.

"There are things in the woods, Herr Graves, especially up here in the mountains." Her tone was low and perhaps with a hint of warning. "Things live here. Things that are older than God, though it might be blasphemous to say so. To think that you are alone in the trees...well, that's a mistake that I would be saddened to see you make."

When he suggested that she might prefer a man with a strong will, though, she scoffed. "If I wanted a man with strong will, Herr Graves, I would have my pick of the litter," she snickered. "I would sooner a pretty face with an empty head than a man with a strong will, though neither is ideal. Looks fade, but if a man is kind that's okay; a man with a strong will would seek to rule me, and I'll be ruled by no man." Lorelei leaned forward a little over her knees and cupped a hand to the side of her mouth, adding in a loud stage whisper, "That's why I must be a witch, you know." She grinned and winked, then shook her head. "Frau Aching once told me that men were always the head of the family, but that was okay because I should seek instead to be the neck: the neck turns the head, after all. But I don't want that, either." A moment's pause, for thought.

"God made Eve from Adam's rib." Even the Devil could quote scripture to suit his needs, but this was a parallel her mother had drawn for her long ago. "He didn't make her from his foot, to be trod upon, from his hand to do his bidding, or from his head to rule him. Nor even his neck, to direct him." A small smile. "Eve was made from his rib: from his side, to be his equal, under his arm to be protected, next to his heart to be loved. That is what I look for in a man: someone who listens to me and to my ideas, who treats me as a whole person with her own thoughts and desires. Someone who doesn't seek to rule me, nor to be ruled...except perhaps in bed, but that's another thing altogether." She glanced away from him momentarily and her cheeks tinged pink; she hadn't meant to say that part out loud. "A man with strong will, will only ever seek to work that will on me. A man with weak will, will be henpecked and miserable his whole life through because I would run roughshod over him, and that isn't fair at all. A man who would tell me when I'm being stupid or vain or prideful, but who would love me so hard I would feel a queen among peasants..." Another genuine smile blossomed. "And a man who can handle a woman telling him when he's being the same. We'd help each other clean up our messes. Odd couple though we might have been, that's how Gunner and I worked. He'd always get this look when he thought I was making a mess, poking things that oughtn't be poked...but he always helped me clean it up anyway." She looked into his eyes and cocked her head again. "Have you ever been in love, Herr Graves?"

 

[Vahn Seele]

Xander took her answer and pondered it, thinking to what she said. Sure, there were things that existed in nature, things that were dangerous and likely always watching. He did not lie to say that he felt none of them. In truth, as it might seem grim, Xander found it comforting to think that there was nothing out there. Sure, he wanted to believe in God, in his presence among his creation, and Xander could quote scripture with anyone who wanted to talk it. The defining line for him, what separated him from a priest and a witch finder, was his conviction. A priest will seek to heal and to help, to shepherd his flock to grow and foster a thriving community in God's name. A witch finder doesn't do that. They hunt, they pick, and the rip out the roots that would seek to poison a flock. No priest worth his collar would be able to do that easily. It was why being a witch finder was in such high demand, and why he had chosen to take on his father's mantle as the continuation of the line.

"If there were things out there, ancient things older than God, what could I do knowing about them? Appease them? If they are watching me, they have their plans for what will happen, regardless of me knowing they exist. Much like with God, the most we can seek to do is seek to spread His image along the earth in our works and community, so that others might see it. Anything more ancient than God has either remained hidden for a reason, or does not know how to speak loud enough." He said, addressing Lorelei's comment of his earlier observation of being "alone" in nature.

Having talked for this long with her, the formality of his title and last name no longer felt appropriate. "Lorelei, so long as we are speaking on a personal level, you may call me Xander. It seems ill-fitting that I have your first name and use it, while you use my family name. I'm not fond of uneven conversations outside of my professional duties." He said, seeking to address that point. "As for my interests in love, I have been. A woman in the capital, often asked to bring my meals, caught my eye back when I was studying scripture. Though I am not a priest, I am asked to learn the scripture to identify those that pretend to know it." He said, moving off of the stiff barrel and coming to take a seat in front of it, back pressed against it. A faint sound of popping could be heard as his spine straightened and adjusted; the crime of a cheap bed should have been a sin. "Over the course of a few months, we spoke of our future plans. She, being the daughter of the innkeeper nearby, knew where she'd end up: married and with child while she still had her looks. Marie wanted more, though." His gaze seemed to shift toward a vacant spot on the wall, focused on it as if something were there.

"I'd tell her that she was better than that, as Marie had a head that could do more. I'd even give her passages to read and get her opinion, often finding that we'd come to different conclusions. I admired her for thinking, for challenging me." He said, his tone shifting in an obvious downturn. "Her father caught wind of her affection toward me, and he warned her of the danger. A witch finder is trouble for women, and he did not want to see his daughter on a pyre." He said, bitterness settling in his face. "To save her from me, he gave her hand to the blacksmith's son. She couldn't refuse. They were married and I was moved to learn elsewhere. I haven't seen Marie since." His tone went silent, and it was apparent he was done talking on the subject.

"Sorry, Lorelei. It isn't often I have conversations like this. Digging up the past is something I fell out of the practice of within my own life." Xander said, gathering himsellf to be more composed and fitting to his title.

 

[Madam Mim]

Lorelei flushed at the idea that her gods didn't know how to speak loudly enough. The God of Abraham had driven them into hiding! Had slaughtered their people! Her people! But aloud she simply shrugged at his idea that there was nothing he could do about the things in the woods.

"At the very least you could seek to avoid offending them," she offered. "Avoid their dwelling places. And maybe, yes, appease them. They are not so passive as God." That hint of an ironic smile was back at the corner of her lip in an effort to suppress her anger at the unintentional slight. When he asked her to call him by his first name, she nodded. "Xander, then," she confirmed. "You're one of a very few men who see it as an iniquity rather than getting the respect you deserve. Putting me in my place." Her lip curled and her eyes rolled at that. "And, in fairness, Graves is a much smaller mouthful than Himmelschmidt." She laughed a little and shook her head. "But fair enough. You be Xander, and I'll be Lorelei. It'll be our little secret." She winked conspiratorially.

She frowned, however, as he told the story of his lost love. "He was right that witch finders are trouble for women...but did he not think that the closer she was the farther she would be from any real danger? You loved her." But he went silent, and made it clear that the matter was closed. She shifted uncomfortably and laid back in the hay, stretching to work the kinks out of her back. "I'm sorry." The apology was sincere. "Both for what happened, and for asking. I didn't mean to pry. She sounds lovely though."

A pause. It has been a while since she had managed any sort of worthwhile conversation, and Xander's was certainly worthwhile. She didn't want him to leave, but clearly she had found a sore spot.

"If you hadn't become a witch finder, would you have been a baker like your mother? Or something else?" She turned on her side in the hay, stretched out at full length, and propped her head on her hand. "Was your father a witch finder, then? Is that why you became one? God doesn't seem to call to you, and you don't have that fear of hard-headed women that most everyone else seems to, so I can't imagine any other reason. Did he push you into it, or did you choose it?" On the window sill outside Frey stretched and mewed in a dark sort of voice, drawing her attention momentarily. He head butted the glass and Lorelei smiled, stretching her hand out and miming scratching his head. "Do you like animals, Xander? Have you ever had a pet? City boy like yourself I can't imagine you working with horses or cows, or even goats or pigs. But surely a pet?"

 

[Vahn Seele]

Xander took a moment to think on her response. Do his best not to offend them? Was she speaking in a way that was less scholarly and more practical? Before he could ask about it, they were focused on the subject of his vacant love life. "Marie would not have wanted a life like mine, I imagine. Maintaining a home for a husband, absent for weeks to months on end. There's also no place for her with me on the road, not in a conventional way. She'd have likely come with me to stay close, but her family would have taken great offense to it." He said.

The way she spoke about them keeping their first name basis secret made him smile, curling his lips up just enough to show he was humored by the suggestion. "I shall keep that in mind, Lorelei." He said, eager to shift their conversation to a new topic. Marie had always been a sore point of his past, but he'd learned to move on and think of other things. "No reason to be sorry. The past is there to remind us who we are. It's never easy to recount, but we do our best, I suppose." Xander said, offering her an out to prevent her from feeling guilty about her question.

"My father was a witch finder. He took up a place in hunting witches for the church before he met my mother. I was never pressured to take this line of work, especially not by my father. He had wished a different life for me. I'd seen what the trials did to him, but I felt inclined to keep up the work. As a second generation witch finder, one who has chosen to stay unaffiliated with a church, I have a reputation to uphold at all times." He said, sitting up and righting his clothing in a mocking gesture. "Though, if I hadn't been drawn to being a witch finder, I might have learned more from my mother. Baking never killed anyone, unless the baker were a witch, of course." He said, giving a faint chuckle to the old tale of a witch in a gingerbread house.

Looking toward the sound of the cat butting head against the window, Xander raised a brow. "A pet? I've had a cat. Never kept him indoors, as my mother wished to keep the house free of 'furry beasts'. I'd feed him what bits of meat I could get, and he'd offer his company while I would read." He said, painting the picture of a young boy and a small cat, curled up outside while reading. "How about you? Have you always had a draw to be a midwife, the guide for the living? The training for it must be quite difficult, less on the birth and more on the mothers." He said, knowing that she had spoken of mothers who refused to follow her advice.

 

[Madam Mim]

Lorelei quirked her head a little at his choice of vocation; son of a witch finder, neither pushed into it nor drawn there by God. "So you do this for the reputation, then? Burning women?" It wasn't quite an accusation, but there was undisguised distaste in her voice. "Poor choice for reputation, but then I'm probably more than a little biased. Still, credit to your father for trying to guide your feet down a different path. If you asked my mother though, baking will kill us all." She smiled. "The woman was convinced that too much sweets from the baker would give you a heart attack. From watching her own father, I suppose, but there you are." She shook her head, still with a fond smile.

As Xander described the little stray he kept, she laughed. "Well that's always how you get a cat, you know. It starts with a little food, a little water, a little milk. Then before you know it the furry little bastard is taking up half your bed, all stretched out, and you can't move for fear of waking him." Lorelei smiled fondly at her own cat, but the smile faded a little. "Promise me you'll find him a good home," she said softly, a lilt of sadness in her tone. "If this all goes wrong, I mean. You can take him if you like, so long as you take care of him...or find him a good home, somewhere they don't mind great black beasts like him. If...If something happened to him...because of me...I mean, big old black brute like him, witch like me...they'd kill him. Throw stones at him until he died, or chase him down and turn him into fiddle strings...God forbid they hang him up next to me..." She sniffed and wiped away a tear, still with her face turned toward the cat. "I couldn't bear it, Xander. Not after all he's been through with me, all he's done for me. So please...promise me you'll find a good place for him." She took a deep, shuddering breath, sniffed, and wiped at her eyes before expelling a burst of air that was an attempt at a laugh.

"Funny thing, being more worried for the cat than I am for myself," she chuckled, fixing her face before turning back to him. "I suppose that's because I know how guilty or innocent I may be of my own sins; I'm human. That's my burden. But Frey...he's an innocent. Like all animals. I suppose that's one of the reasons why I became a midwife, apart from the fact that my family needed money and I'd been helping my mother birth babies most of my life. I can't stand the death of innocents." Lorelei sniffed again and stretched out once more on the hay, her skirt riding up a little to expose a couple inches of calf above her boot, though she paid it no mind. "I had two older siblings. Johann died in the war, and Marietta in childbirth. We lost them both, Marietta and the baby. I was four at the time. Between Johann and me there were three others, then three others after me...all died before their first year had passed, usually from fever or hunger. My father was an oddjobsman, you see, and that doesn't make much, not enough for a wife and three or more children plus himself. Mutter was able to keep a garden but she was always a little shite at it, and it wasn't enough to keep us fed on its own. So she gave up many of her own meals so that we could eat...which meant that most of the babies were small to begin with, and she couldn't eat enough to produce enough milk for them. We didn't have a goat or anything, but neither did we usually have enough to buy milk." She shrugged. "When I was old enough to help with the births, they made it through...but then often died soon after. Another strike against me for witchery, I suppose; witchcraft from a young age, borne out of jealousy for my siblings, that's what they'll say. Vater drank himself to death a year or two after the youngest went, leaving Mutter to finish raising me alone. I was eight."

Lorelei shook her head and sighed. "There's only so much death you can see so young. There comes a certain age where you understand what's going on, and you either resign yourself to it or you decide to do something about it." There was no humor in her smile. "I'm sure you know well enough by now to know that I decided to do something about it. Death wouldn't touch my family, my friends, my town again, not if I could do something about it. So I set to learning all I could about healing, about pregnancy and birthing, about helping people not die. I actually had a little book when I first started, when I was maybe twelve or so. I'm not good at writing so I'm sure it's misspelled to hell and nearly illegible, but I used it to take notes about what I learned, what herbs could heal and what could harm or kill. What made babies come out underweight or early, or breech. I had decided that I was going to be a force for life, and that everything I did would be dedicated to helping my village thrive after seeing so much darkness in their lives and my own."

She turned her head and spat. "So much good that did me, I suppose. But even so, my mother saw that I was determined, and at fifteen I was too old for the sort of ragamuffin begging you see on the streets, singing songs for pennies. So she talked to Frau Aching, asked if I could be apprenticed alongside one of her daughters and we could work together, or worst case scenario I could go to some other village. Well, says Frau Aching, good news for your Lorelei since none of my daughters see fit to work; all they want to do is marry rich and have babies, not deliver them." A wry smile. "Only one of them managed it. Marrying rich, I mean. The other two are married to farmers, though all three have children a-plenty. In any case, Frau Aching took me under her wing, taught me all she knew about birthing and healing. I'm good at what I do, Xander. No one can avoid the inevitable, but where I've been able to I've delayed it for every single person I've ever treated. I can't do surgeries, not much more than pulling a tooth or stitching a fingertip back on, but short of that believe you me when someone's been savable I've saved them. When I was a child I saw enough death and despair to last me three lifetimes; I'm not about to be cause for more of it."

She let the silence settle between them once more.

"But then again...I don't suppose you were interrogating me at that point, were you Xander?"

 

[Vahn Seele]

Xander was about to speak up, to make his intentions clear on why he had chosen the profession he had. It wasn't merely to stand by and help set fire to women. It was, honestly, the exact opposite. His father had told him stories about other witch finders who would rather declare a guilty party to leave a town, rather than doing the diligence of proving the claims made against a poor victim. In this way, Xander knew that there were those that did not admire the profession for what it was meant to be. It wasn't meant to be the easy occupation, the life that led to riches and status. It was the very opposite of that of a midwife. He was the point of justice for those that were either falsely accused or deserving of their pyre.

Rather than voice this now, Xander sat quietly, only speaking when it was not interrupting her. "I will make sure that your cat is taken care of, even if it is that he comes with me. Harming an animal is wrong, no matter how many scriptures a drunken man might spout as he tosses stones and sticks at beasts." He said, trying to set her mind at ease.

Soon after that, she began to speak of her childhood and experiences with death. She had seen a lot of it. Most children had, if Xander were to be honest with himself. There wasn't a lot that could be done about it. Death was fairly commonplace outside of the cities. Even among the streets of the city, there was no way to keep the scent of death from lingering in the air. Plagues were a terrible thing, and they had had their fair share of loss across the land because of it. Fore Lorelei to take such a devout stand against it, to want to fight something so intangible as death, well, it was an astonishing feat to try and achieve. She'd done well to keep it at bay, probably better than most. Could she have resorted to using witchcraft to achieve those goals? Even when having a passive conversation, his witch finder mind wanted to interpret and dig into the story to find something of value for his investigation. If she were presented with an opportunity to use magic to save someone, would she do it? It would speak some truth to the "breath being stolen" that had been mentioned earlier after a stillborn. Perhaps she was not taking, but trying to give breath to the child.

Those thoughts would have to wait, though, as he could see that she was focusing again on him. "Not an interrogation, not in the formal sense. It would be wrong of me to use my position of authority to gain intimate details of a woman's past for my own purposes." He said, giving her a wry grin. "One thing I would like to say, though, as we are in the mindset of sharing. I do not take my profession because I like what I do. I take the title of Witch Finder very serious. My father spoke of men who would rather spend time among people of power, using their position to gain influence and convicting those on weak circumstances. Some of those men would have likely accused you right away and been building a pyre a day into looking into your past." Xander said, taking a solemn look.

"Much as you take to preserving life, I try to do the same. If you were to ask anyone that I've spoken judgment over, I have found more innocent than guilty in my methods. While they are slow, tedious ways that I work, putting a person to death over accusations of witchcraft is something I take very seriously. My father was a man of conviction, teaching me the same in being thorough and certain before calling judgment. Social pressure to convict a woman of witchcraft has never been a reliable method of drawing a judgment from me, though many have tried." He said, hands coming to rest at his sides against the wood beneath him. "I would rather spend my life working as a proper witch finder, than hiding in the easier life of a baker or artisan."

With his conviction spoken, Xander fell silent, looking to the cat in the window. "He probably makes a great mouse hunter." He said, a cat of that size easily able to topple any creature he wanted.