A/N: Set during Library of Souls, while Jacob is passed out in the basement beneath the room where the Ymbrynes were kept with the hollows.
I do not own anything except my own OC, Delores Woodpecker, and the way I portray the characters. All else belongs to the one and only Ransom Riggs
"Come on now Alma! Let's not dwell in this horrible room any longer than we have to!" Miss Treecreeper called out for her, and she immediately turned around and returned to the door. There, she stopped, meeting Florence eyes for a moment before continuing on her way.
"There is no rush, Florence. They are not going to get in here anytime soon." It was lie and she knew it, but she didn't have it in her to rush as she walked out of the room where she'd seen one or her charges die."And the hollows are hardly an issue anymore, either. So let's just relax for a moment shall we?"
She could have laughed at the last part, for there was certainly no room for relaxation in their current position. They were stuck in a punishment loop in eighteenth century London, her insane brother's minions currently banging at the door and trying to get in, and to top it all of they were all hurted, traumatised and/or incapacitated in one way or another.
Relaxation was most definitely the last thing on their minds, and yet it had been what she suggested.
"I'm sorry for what happened to you boy, Alma. He didn't deserve it." Miss Treecreeper patted her gently on the arm, avoiding looking into her eyes and giving her a half-hearted smile before quickly leaving. Anyone else of her sisters, Alma would have expected to be angry at her obviously rude behaviour, but not Florence Treecreeper. Even if they had been in a less hostile environment with less of an excuse for her behaviour, she knew that Florence would not have argued with her.
Just like the Treecreeper, after which she had gotten her surname, she was a very small, mild and non intrusive woman who made a point in never openly displaying any hostile emotions. She was the kind of person who couldn't pick a fight if she wanted to, for aggression was not in her nature. Because of her very submissive personality, her wards were mostly smaller children that other Ymbrynes lacked the patience and calm to care for.
Alma remembered having went to school with her, long ago, before they got their own loops, and she could still recall the teacher's starres and demanding voices as they forced Florence into answering some of their questions during class, for she never put her hand up to answer herself.
Miss Treecreeper was the kind of woman who was not seen nor heard, and preferred it that way.
Following in her sister's footstep and moving on into the next room, Alma was overtaken by sudden shock as she noticed how many people were gathered in the small room. She had never seen so many Ymbrynes collected in one place ever before, and the sight of it all left her speechless. Even at the academy, where Ymbrynes had been trained for centuries, there had never been this many, and seeing it felt to Alma like a little bit of Sunshine in an otherwise bleak world.
Being an Ymbryne was a very rare peculiarity to have, even more rare than the most rare of other peculiarities, as it was the only gender-exclusive peculiarity that only females could posses. To find a new Ymbryne was as rare as finding a needle in a haystack and all the existing Ymbrynes rejoiced when they did.
For a moment, Alma rejoiced just to be able to be in the presence of so many wise woman, their combined experience and skills stretching far beyond the most well-filled library in the world.
Her eyes moved around the room, carefully taking in everything and everyone there, before finally landing on the figure of Miss Wren, next to who Florence had apparently decided to take a seat.
Balenciaga Wren was, just like Miss Avocet, one of the more famed Ymbrynes, as well as one of the oldest. The general idea was the she was just one or two years younger than Miss Avocet, but some claimed her to be the older one of the two. There was no real evidence supporting either theory, nor was it a matter any of them offered to discuss, though, and the question was to remained unsolved.
The small woman had made a name for herself, not only by being an excellent speaker, but also by after just a few years of running a loop abandoning the idea of caring for peculiar children. Claiming that caring for children did not suit her, she had instead interested herself in peculiare animals and started a menagerie. With the years she had eventually become the leading expert on peculiare animals, and it was by now customary for her to come to Miss Avocet and Miss Buntings academy and hold a lecture on Peculiare animals for every new class they taught.
Alma like to remember that lecture as one of the best parts of her studies to become an Ymbryne. She had yet to have gotten use for this information, of course, as few were, but the fascinating subject and the imposing aura of the woman speaking could yet to this day put a smile on her face and send a chill down her spine.
"Hey, Alma, you alright there missy?" The heavy accented speech reached her ears, and Alma's focus traveled across the room, to another one of her old classmates, Miss Gannett.
"Yes, I'm fine here Amelia." Alma responded, her brain accustomed to her sister Ymbryne's garbled speech and having no problem deciphering it.
Miss Gannett had sat down on a chair next to Miss Glass Billow, her sister Ymbryne Miss Woodpecker situated on the other side, and both woman having placed their hands on top of Miss Glassbillow's. Alma found it touching how supportive they were towards each other, as well as Miss Glassbillow, trying to give what little comfort they.
The two Ymbrynes on each side of Miss Glassbillow looked like night and day, one big and bold, the other small and shy, and only a handful of persons knew that they were actually related.
Amelia Gannett was the largest Ymbryne of all, towering almost ten centimeters above the already quite tall Alma, and had a burning, intense personality that made her well fit for her job of mostly take care of adults and peculiares in their late teenage years. It was said in a half-joking manner that she scared the troublemakers into obedience, though she was obviously not the kind of person to act that way.
What marked Miss Amelia Gannett the most, though, was not her personality, but her speech. Being born and raised in a tiny village somewhere on Ireland, she spoke with a heavily accented speech that twisted every word in such a way that those who did not know her more often than not were forced to ask her to repeat herself, though it appeared she didn't mind it as she never attempted to correct her speech.
If Alma could consider any of the other Ymbrynes her best friend, it would surely be her.
Bang!
Another hard sound echoed from the door, and Alma noticed Miss Woodpecker flinch, pulling herself away from the door out of fear. "D-do y-you t-think t-they will...will get t-through anytime s-s-soon?" She asked, stuttering, glancing at Alma with uncertain eyes as her cousins grip on her hand hardened.
"I reckon we are good to go for another while, no Am?" Amelia answered in her stead, addressing Alma with her nickname from long ago and giving her look that told her to agree.
"I don't think it's an issue yet." Alma said soothingly, unsure if it was actually true but getting an approving nod from Amelia. Miss Woodpecker seemed to take her words to heart, too, and relaxed a little in her chair.
While her cousin was one of the biggest Ymbrynes, Delores Woodpecker was one of the smallest Ymbrynes, not only physically, but also age wise, as she had been young when she started her training a few years before Alma and Amelia. In truth she was six years older than Alma and three years older than her cousin, but physically she appeared to be at the very least a year younger than b the other women.
One of Miss Woodpecker's most memorable features, was her neurotic character and prominent stuttering. The later, which she had not despite trying to been able to get rid off, was seen as a connection between her and the bird that she represented in the sense that both the stuttering and her neurotic, anxious personality reminded you of the Woodpecker's constant pecking at the tree it occupied.
As opposed to her cousin, Delores had not grown up on Ireland and was instead raised in Scotland, where she'd kept a loop until being kidnapped by the hollows. Alma had always thought it was too bad that the two of them didn't have an opportunity to see each other more often, and seeing them sit toghther now, guarding their passive Ymbryne sister, it felt horrible.
They didn't deserve to have their first real, long encounter with each other in years to be held while the world was ending and the children they dedicated their lives to taking care of either being dead or separated from them. It just didn't seem fair, but it was the price you paid for a gift such as being an Ymbryne.
Over in the opposite corner, Miss Avocet stirred, and all attention was immediately directed towards her. The smaller crowd of Ymbrynes who had taken to gather around her were immediately up on their feet, but sat back down as soon as she returned to her half-passed out condition. Alma only watched in worry, not wanting to admit that she was fearing for the older woman.
She had lost her mother quite early in life, and had never really known what motherly love was supposed to feel like. When Miss Avocet first came to talk to her, about her abilities and about her school, Alma was convinced that that was how a mother was to feel like.
She still was.
The infamous Esmeralda Avocet had become Alma's mother figure, and throughout her entire education the older Ymbryne had been her main inspiration. She had strived to be like her, on her own, and poured her heart into her studies in order to make sure that she made the older Ymbryne proud of her.
The thought of Mass Avocet dying was as unperceivable as the thought of Jacob being dead, and for the time being she pushed them both into the back of her head in order to be able to cope. She was convinced she would go crazy if she didn't.
Alma was a strong person, but she was at her limits. They all did. No one, not even an Ymbryne, could keep strong and stoic forever, and they were all breaking down now.
Those who was present enough to break down, anyway.
Alma didn't even have to look at her to know that Miss Glassbillow was still sitting on her chair in between Miss Gannett and Miss Woodpecker and staring out into nothingness.
Emma's horrified scream as she recognised Miss Glassbillow's pale features in the spotlight still ringed in her ears, her charge's panic only growing as Cal explained that Miss Glassbillow had had a part of her soul drained and because of it become caustic.
Emma knew Miss Glassbillow from the Ymbryne having attended one of their shows back when they had had a traveling circus, and probably still remembered how the older Ymbryne had taken a particular interest in her ability to put things on fire.
Catherine Glassbillow was a very intellectual person with almost spiritual properties, whose special project had been to document peculiarities and mapp them out on a geographical chart. Her goal had been to one day find conclusive proof that the peculiar abilities of a syndrigast was directly connected to the environment in which the mother had lived while carrying them. Catherine had together with Delores Woodpecker worked on the project and tried prove their theory for well over a hundred years, and had just a few years ago been claiming that they were finally starting to get close to proving that there was a correlation.
Alma supposed all that work was gone, now, and though the physical and mental health of the Ymbryne concerned her much more than the loss of her research, she still found it quite sad, for such proof would have been revolutionary.
Looking around the room, Alma saw so many horrified and traumatized faces, and it broke her over and over again to recognise the persons, to remember what they used to be like back before all of what was happening happened.
She saw her charges, clinging to or hovering around her or any of the other Ymbrynes, and seeking moral support and guidance that none of them were in a state to give.
Ymbrynes should always be there to help their children.
She saw the Ymbrynes themselves, shell-shook and broken after weeks of both physical and mental torturing, as well as being locked up and unable to take bird form.
The bird was just as much part of the Ymbryne as the human was, and they had a natural need to switch into bird-form every now and then that they were in no controle of. These Ymbrynes had been forced to battle their own instincts as they had been physically unable to take bird for so long, and now that they were free, Alma doubted they had the bearings to do it. Just like they could be stuck in bird form from being hurt, they could get stuck in human when they were abused and traumatised.
These women, her sisters, had been treated so badly by her brother during the last few weeks that it was wonder half of them were still alive and breathing, and yet, there she stood, unharmed.
She should have been the one her sibling tortured the most, not the other way around. It should have been her sitting on a chair and staring into nothingness, not Miss Glassbillow. It was her brothers who caused all this terror and hurt, and yet she went unpunished.
When peculiares prayed, they directed their prayers to the Ymbrynes and the birds. They were their protective angels and their gods.
But who did an Ymbryne pray to? Who was wanting to listen to the words of a bird who failed her purpose?
Alma didn't know. Alma wasn't sure she even cared. All she wanted was the tiniest bit of reassurance that she could do this, could take control and fix this.
Miss Avocet always called her talented, and now, the moment had comen for her to prove it, both to herself and to others.
It was time for the finally battle to begin.