Here goes the little insight of what happened to one of Lena's ancestor in the 18th c.
The Unique
Octavia Firrano was the unluckiest woman who had ever existed. She was convinced that she was. She was the sixth daughter of the seven children her parents had. Her father was a grower. He produced green olives and wanted sons to help him work in the fields. He was only graced by God with one by the seventh try, which made Octavia the unluckiest child of the family. Since she was the penultimate of the siblings, she was too old not to eat too much but too young to be useful. Since she was a girl, she could not work in the fields. Worse than that, since she was a girl, she would only be useful when she would be married. But Octavia didn't want to be married to some other peasant who would treat her like she meant nothing. Like she was just another burden on his shoulders. She wanted to be married to someone who valued her. But she already knew that she would have no luck in that field either.
At an early age, Octavia had discovered that she had a secret trait. One that she wasn't sharing with her sisters, like her green eyes and deep dark hair. No, this trait was only hers. She could cure people. More than that, she could sense when someone was ill and knew immediately how to heal them. It was useful. She could be useful. But she couldn't talk about it. She had tried, at first. Her mother had an infection, she could sense it, and without her mother, the whole family would crumble. So, Octavia tried to cure her, implicitly. She gave her thyme and ivy infusions, helped her with the tasks in the house so that she wouldn't tire too much. Until her mother had had too much of her weird behavior and asked for an explanation.
"You are ill, mother." Octavia had said with alarm.
Her mother had only looked at her with authority, her Toscan origins proudly showing on her face. "You only say that so you can lazy around collecting flowers. Go feed the swine." She had replied with severity in her tone.
"No! I feel it! It is in there!" Octavia had insisted, pointing at her mother's chest. She could hear it in her mother's breathing. It was shallow and irregular. Fragile.
"Nonsense!" Her mother had brushed away her worries and pushed her out of the house towards the pigsty with the order to not come back until dinner.
Her mother had died a fortnight later, from pneumonia the doctor had said, coughing her last breath in the suffocating heat of the summer. Octavia had been furious. How was she supposed to help people with her special trait if nobody was listening to her? She had not asked for that gift. Had not asked to be special. Her infusions had not worked and now her mother had died, living her little brother without a mother to feed him.
Her oldest sisters, who had already been married, had come back to bury their mother. That was when the marriage proposals had started. Octavia's father was not a rich man. The olives he produced could only pay for the bare minimum of the food they needed for the following winter. With his wife gone, nobody could go to the market and sell his collect. He had to make a choice, Octavia had tried to reason multiple times. She just wished that he had chosen better.
On her thirteenth birthday, Octavia bleed for the first time. She had felt it coming and had tried to hide it but her sister had spilled the beans. Their father was unusually happy. The next day, Octavia met her first husband. Enzo Capone. He was a merchant. Very rich. Traveling a lot around the country to sell his goods. Octavia's father was impressed. The man looked honest and gentle. He had a deep black beard and black hair. But the glint in his eyes was saying otherwise. It looked calculating. His eyes were like two pools of darkness. Octavia did not like it. She didn't trust him but her father had sold her to him so she did not have a choice.
Their wedding happened in a small church in her village of Tabbiano and they were immediately off on the road in direction of Enzo's next stop in Naples. In the carriage, Octavia was nervous. She knew what was supposed to happen after a wedding. She did not feel ready for that. But Enzo only showed gentleness during the trip. He was all comfortable conversation, trying to know his new wife better, and kind gestures, giving her his jacket when she showed shivers during the night. The trip lasted two whole days. When they arrived in Parma, Enzo introduced her to his band. And then, Octavia realized that he had lied. He was not a merchant. He was the leader of a circus. A British circus.
The first weeks, Octavia felt like it was not that bad. Enzo had lied to her father, but he was still rich, and he was still taking care of her as it was expected from a husband. He had not even tried to consummate their wedding yet, which Octavia was really grateful for. The life with the circus was entertaining. They traveled a lot. In Naples, they took a boat and stayed on it for three whole weeks. Enzo had explained how they were passing Spain then France, to berth in Dover and go back to the British Empire.
Octavia often thought about her sisters' lives. How they seemed bored to only be used as a belly with two legs, giving birth to baby after baby. Octavia's new life was none of that. In the morning, she had breakfast with Enzo, during which he would usually explain his plans for the day and often invite her to watch a performance or two. Sometimes, he would kiss her on the cheek and go without a word. Sometimes it was on the forehead. But never on the lips. They would enjoy the day together or separately until meeting again for dinner in their tent, candles lighting up the roof made of fabrics, eating whatever the chef had found to cook for them. It was peaceful and entertaining. Octavia liked her life very much.
One day, as she was observing a juggler juggle three wooden sticks in fire between his hands, one of the trapeze artists fell from his trapeze. Thankfully, there was a net to catch him but it was enough to surprise the juggle. One of the sticks got out of his hands and took the direction of Octavia's face. To avoid her being hurt, Enzo pushed her away and took the stick right in the face. The sight was horrifying. His skin was black and pink and red, with blisters all over his eyes. They carried Enzo to his tent and called for a doctor immediately. The doctor's words were not optimistic. A burn like this one was impossible to cure. Enzo would lose his eye, if not his life if the infection was strong enough. The doctor could only give him a balm to put on the burn, hoping it would slow down the infection but he wasn't really hopeful. Octavia disagreed. After her mother's death, she had sworn to never use her gift again but Enzo had only been kind to her and he had saved her from being hurt just as he was. She had to pay back his sacrifice. She did not want him to die. Without him, she did not know what she would be nor do. It was a necessity for her to cure him.
When the night fell and everybody rejoined their tents, Octavia worked on Enzo's face while he was sleeping. The heat of the burn was radiating off him. She did not know if it was the fever or her special gift. She focused on his face, on the sensations coursing through her hands as she had them spread just above his burnt skin. She pictured the burn, as if it was an entity in itself, spread on Enzo's skin, devouring his face. She pictured it quitting his face and pass through the tips of her fingers, along her palms, right to her heart and grown inside her. She felt it flow in her blood, like a hot water traversing her blood vessels and alimenting her heart in an unknown energy.
When Octavia opened her eyes, Enzo was looking at her. With both of his eyes. His skin was not entirely healed but it did not look gnawed anymore. Enzo took her wrists strongly and looked at her with alarm.
"What did you do?" He asked.
"I… I cured you." Octavia stammered.
Enzo got up hurriedly and rushed to the corner of their tent where a basin of water was waiting for them. He looked at his reflection in the water. Octavia watched him touch his face in wonder. Then, he whipped around to look at her.
"How did you- Your eyes! Come here!"
He came to her and took her hands to guide to the basin. In the water, Octavia could see their reflections. Enzo's face was still red and pink, as if it had been scrubbed energetically. Her reflection, though, was terrifying. Her eyes were glowing. Bright yellow, with no white or green pupils. Just bright sparkling yellow. Octavia leaned on the basin to look closer. She looked possessed. But also something else. In control. Powerful. Magical.
"You are a witch." Enzo said next to her.
She looked at him, the fear all over her face. "I wanted to help." She stammered again.
Enzo smiled. This devious, manipulating smile Octavia only saw on him when he was about to make a new deal. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her on the lips soundly.
"You are incredible, my dear!" He exclaimed. "We are going to be rich!"
A chill ran down Octavia's spine. She tried to smile and reflect Enzo's joy on her face but she could not. She knew now that she had made a mistake. She should have kept her gift hidden. She pushed away from him tentatively.
"I do not desire to be one of your attractions."
Enzo's face scrunched up immediately. He closed the gap between them once again. "No, of course not, dear. You are my wife. My beautiful, absolutely magical wife. You are going to help people, Octavia. Do you wish to help them?"
Octavia, with her young mind, did not know what to think. "I… I… Of course, I… But-"
"No buts! It is settled. Tomorrow, we will announce our new performance. Octavia, the witch who can cure any disease!" Enzo exclaimed with wild gestures. Then, he cupped her cheeks again and kissed her deeper on the lips. He leaned heavily on her, his hands traveling on her dress, on her corset. Octavia knew what he wanted. She could not say no to that. She was his wife. She let him take what he wanted. It was the first night that they had consummated their marriage. It was also the beginning of her nightmare.
After she killed their third unborn baby, Enzo realized that Octavia could not carry children like the other women. Octavia thought that it was the price to pay for all the lives she had saved. She could only carry death, since she had stolen so many souls from Death herself. Nature needed balance and saving lives that should have been lost was causing unbalance. It was only nature taking back what she had to.
But Enzo did not see it that way. He let Octavia recover from her loss for two days before throwing her in a cage like an animal. She was 23 at the time.
"I do not understand!" Octavia had cried, gripping at the bars.
"You are a monster! A witch! Your place is in a cage!" Enzo had shouted back angrily. He had walked away and never turned back ever again.
In her sleepless nights in her cage, Octavia often thought about how Enzo had only been caring until she had showed potential. Money potential. He was only interested in money, she had realized, and now, she felt so naive to have thought that he could be anything more than a businessman. After years of playing God with people's diseases, Octavia had earned him enough money to buy a permanent place for the circus. All around the world, people were coming to see them perform in Roma. They wanted the witch to cure them or to tell them their fate. Octavia knew that her gift was accepted only because she was in a circus. Women with a gift just like hers were persecuted, outside of her little world. She was lucky. Octavia laughed internally at that thought. For once in her life, she thought she was lucky. In a cage, imprisoned but alive.
In that cage, days and months and years went by without Octavia noticing. She was fed through the bars, escorted to the circus to perform and back to her cage. She was given a bath a week and it became her new life. She never saw Enzo again but she knew that he was around, controlling the circus with an iron fist.
The circus was giving exhibitions during the day, since the performance was only at night and she watched curious eyes observe her through the bars of her cage as if she was a beast. She watched them without really seeing them, their faces all blurry and mixing with each other. Only a voice made her react more than the others. It was a noble man. He looked Swiss or German but Octavia did not know a lot about the other countries except what she had learned in the books in Enzo's tent so she could not really tell. The man was looking at her through the bars and he had only said, Incredible, under his breath. His deep strong voice had gotten to Octavia's ears and it was certain in his tone that he did not mean it like the others. He looked at her with curiosity and pity in his blue eyes. He looked genuine. Caring. Octavia had crawled on her hands and knees to him. He was close enough to the cage for her to smell his rich musky perfume. With his hands in his pockets, he looked at her with sadness.
"Is Octavia your real name?" He asked.
Octavia looked around, feeling weird to be addressed like a normal person for once. Around them, visitors were paying attention to the wild animals in the cages. This man was the only one in front of hers. Shyly, she turned back to him and nodded.
The man nodded in his turn, then took a step forward. He leaned a bit and extended a hand through the bars.
"My name is Paul Valsh. I am from Germany." He said with an accent that Octavia now could hear more clearly.
She looked at his hand – all clean and white, with nails perfectly cut – and looked back at his face. What did he want from her?
"I know Enzo." The man – Paul – said. It was enough to make Octavia distrust him. She crawled away from him with a whine.
"No! No! I did not want to offend you!" He sighed, pinching his nose. "I mean that I know his ways. He is not a good man. I want to help you."
Octavia judged him up and down. This man, out of nowhere, wanted to help her. Do what exactly? Flee? Ha, it was impossible. She shook her head violently and looked away from him. She did not want anything to do with him. It was too risky. Her life was good now. She was lucky. She was grateful.
Octavia heard the man sigh heavily and his boots squeaked in the mud as he went away. She dared throwing him a look. From afar, his shoulders were slumped, his blond hair disheveled from the rain that had just started to fall. He was a beautiful man. But she could not trust him.
Paul came back. Every single day, he would plant himself in front of Octavia's cage and watch her. Sometimes, he tried to talk to her. To convince her to listen to him. But she only pushed his attempts away.
One day, Octavia woke up because of the storm. The sky was all grey and dangerous. It was freezing and she could not count on her dress which looked more like rags than an actual dress now. There was no one around. It was probably still early in the morning, Octavia supposed. She curled up on herself in a corner of her cage to wait for the storm to pass. She was drifting off back to sleep when, suddenly, outside of her cage, she heard steps in the mud. Hurry steps sinking in the puddles. She saw Paul run to her cage, all wet in his heavy looking coat and tailored pants and shirt. He had something in his hands.
"Here! It is for you. When I saw the storm, I could not stop thinking about how it must be for you. Under this!" He said, motioning to the sky.
He pushed a bundle of fabrics through the bars and waited for her to take it. Octavia looked at him, out of breath under the rain, and approached. It was a blanket. It must have been made of wool because it was warm and soft. Without thinking twice, Octavia put it around her and her body sagged in relief. She was shivering so hard her teeth were clacking. She threw a thankful glance to Paul. The man was smiling at her slightly, relieved too to see her protected partly from the cold.
"I wish I could do more." He said with pity.
"Thank you." She told him without avoiding his eyes for once. He looked surprised to hear her voice. It was the first time. He nodded then and plunged his hand in his pocket. He pulled out a small packet. He pushed it through the bars but kept it in his hands as he was pulling the envelop off. Inside, were bread and ham, Octavia recognized. She looked at him with hopeful eyes. She was starving. Since the storm had started, nobody had come to feed her.
"The bread in from yesterday's baking but…"
Octavia noticed how he was shivering too under the rain. She approached and cupped his hands to steady them. They shared a look, then Octavia took a slice of bread and bit into it hungrily. She sighed with satisfaction with the first swallow.
"Thank you." She repeated through a mouthful and Paul only smiled at her, satisfied.
He waited for her to eat all the bread and ham. He then cupped his hands together to gather some water and helped her drink. They shared another look. Octavia felt comfortable around him. He seemed to truly care about her, but she had been fooled once. Enzo had seemed to care too. Paul felt different though. Octavia didn't know anything about him, except his name, but she felt like she could trust him. She just did not want to. She had trusted enough people already.
Paul stayed until the sun was back and the visitors came through the gates. He looked at her with his hands in his pockets. With a final step, he leaned forward.
"The next time, I will come to get you out of here." He whispered clearly. Octavia watched him leave with determination in his step. She did not want to believe him but she felt in her heart that a small part of her was believing him anyway.
Paul had not lie. At first, Octavia had thought that he would never come back. He disappeared for seven nights, not visiting her once. But he came back on a Saturday night, with Enzo next to him.
"Here is the witch!" Enzo said without looking at her. "Do whatever you want, but quickly! She needs to perform in a bit." He threw the keys to Paul and walked away.
Octavia watched who was once her husband leave. It was the first time she had seen him in years. Usually, when he would leave her in the hands of private clients, Enzo did not bother showing up. One of his minions would accompany the man and take him back to the exit once he had finished his dirty work.
"Thank you, Enzo. I will try not to steal too much of her time." Paul shouted back without quitting Octavia with his eyes.
He stepped in front of the cage and unlocked the door with clicking noises. He looked from right to left then extended a hand.
"Come on! We are in a rush." He whispered towards her.
Octavia watched him with bulged eyes. He wanted her to run away.
"I cannot!" She said, curling up on herself.
"Yes, you can! Come on, we have to hurry!"
Octavia shook her head violently. She did not want to go. She could not go. She was convinced that she had to stay here. Because she was lucky to be here, and grateful for Enzo's generosity.
Paul watched her for a second then entered the cage. He put off his coat and put it around Octavia's shoulders gently.
"I know it is frightening but I promise you it will be better than here." He whispered calmly. "I am a doctor. I can take care of you."
Octavia observed his face. It was all kindness and truth. He wanted to help. Nothing was telling her that he was dishonest. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took his hand and nodded.
"Alright."
Paul smiled excitedly and pulled her behind him. They left the cage open and ran towards the exit. Paul made them hide behind a carriage. Visitors were piling in the paths to take a look at the lions and elephants in the bigger cages.
"We need to be discreet. One of my friends is waiting for us with a horse on the other side of the gates." Paul explained through gritted teeth.
He turned on her and grabbed at the collar of his coat. He helped her put the sleeves on and button up the coat for her. He then looked at her bare feet and winced.
"Will you be able to run like that?" He asked. Octavia nodded. Everything just to get out of here, she thought.
Paul turned back to peek out of the corner of the carriage. He seemed to be satisfied of the lack of people because he turned around and grabbed her hand. He waited a bit then launched himself forward, pulling Octavia behind him. Octavia struggled to run at first, but she found a renew excitement in herself. She was leaving this nightmare. Gone were the cold nights and the barely enough meals. She had every faith in Paul. She had hope. It would get better.
They ran through the paths, Octavia's feet covered in mud and scratches. They only had one obstacle to pass and it would be over. The gates. They had to go through the gates to leave. It was the only exit. But it was guarded by two heavy weights lifters. They were the Twins, Alfredo and Giorgio. Their performance was only about lifting heavy objects to impress the crowd. They had big muscles but not a lot of brain so Octavia had some hope they could trick them.
"They will leave when the last visitors had entered." Octavia said.
"Yes, but they will lock the gates and I said to Duncan to wait for me until then or run away because it will mean I had been caught." Paul grimaced.
Octavia looked around as she tried to find a way to distract the Twins. Even if they succeeded in distracting one of them, the other would still find it weird. She looked at Paul who was doing the same as her. He then grabbed her wrist with excitement. He showed her straw bales piled up on the side of the gates, just behind one of the Twins.
"Can you put fire to it?"
Octavia's eyes traveled on his face. Was he mad? She could not control fire. What did he think she was?
"I cannot… I am not…"
"I watched your performances, Octavia." Paul said while taking her hands in his. "You have a gift. I saw it in other women like you. You are not the only one like that. They can do incredible things. I am sure you can do it too."
Octavia observed the sincerity in his eyes, the belief in her all over his face. She sighed and looked back at the bales. She did not have any other solution anyway. It was that or going back to that cage. She passed in front of him to have a better look and focused her gaze on the bales. Like any other aspects of her gift, Octavia tried to imagine what she wanted to happen. She wanted a spark of fire to ignite in the middle of the bales. She wanted the spark to become quick-spreading licking flames. She wanted the fire to be hard to extinguish.
When it happened, Octavia felt it first in her eyes. She knew that they were glowing. Then in her hands. She knew the energy had gone from her body to the straw bales. She recognized the same feeling she had every night while healing people in exchange of money.
"You did it!" Paul exclaimed brightly. She smiled softly. He seemed proud of her. She only hoped that he did not want to take profit of her gift too.
They watched the Twins hurry to extinguish the fire. The panic quickly climbed in the crowd around them. Octavia pulled on Paul's hand when she thought they had a chance to pass through without being noticing. With the panic around and the amount of people running and shouting, the Twins were distracted enough not to take into account who was going in or out of the gates.
They managed to pass the gates calmly, with Paul's arm thrown over Octavia's shoulders protectively. They rushed out of the circus camp and then followed the other people who were leaving with quick steps. Nobody seemed to wonder why Octavia did not have shoes, or why the couple seemed to be very calm when everybody around was screaming. No, the conversations only concerned the fire and how strange it was for a fire to start with temperatures this slow.
They walked through the plain quietly, their eyes observing everything around them. Paul guided them to a side of the road where several horses were waiting. They stopped next to a huge white horse already saddled up. Paul looked around and called his friend through whispers.
"Duncan! Duncan!"
A little man got out of the lines of horses with a cap on his head and a straw in his mouth. His face brightened up as he saw them.
"You made it!" He exclaimed.
"Shhh!" Paul chastised. "Shut it! You, idiot. You are going to get us caught."
Duncan shrugged and put his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. "You are ready to go?" He asked to Octavia.
The young woman did not really know what to say. She gazed at Paul who smiled at her gently.
"As ready as possible."
They helped her climb on the horse and Paul climbed behind her. He then put his arms around Octavia to grab at the reins. She felt a blush creep on her cheeks but said nothing.
"See you, mate!" Duncan said in a weird accent as he slapped the back of the horse.
They went off quickly, galloping through plains. They traveled through the night, Octavia drifting off to sleep from time to time. They stopped in a forest. Paul built them a fire to stay warm and gave her some bread and cheese. They ate in silence. It was cold but not raining. Octavia got closer to the fire and enveloped herself in the blanket Paul had giving her. Duncan had given them a bag full of food and blankets for them to last two days.
"Where are we going?" She asked tentatively. She did not bother meeting Paul's eyes.
"Where do you want to go?" He asked instead.
Octavia had no clue. She knew nothing outside of her small Italian village and the circus camp. She shrugged and looked at him.
"Do you have a home? A wife to go back to?"
Paul smirked slightly. "I have a house in Scotland." He said cryptically. He showed her his left hand. "And I am only married to my profession."
A doctor, Octavia remembered. He looked just like it, with his perfectly polished shoes and noble clothes. What would he do of her?
"You said you were German."
Paul chuckled and nodded. "I am. I went to school in Germany. But I was born in Scotland."
Octavia frowned and looked at her hands. Her nails were dirty and bitten. Her skin was scarred from the cold and the numerous times she had to defend herself against Enzo's friends.
"Are you going back to Scotland?" She asked in a small voice.
Paul took some time to reply. "Yes. I will open an office there."
Octavia nodded and listened to the beating of her heart in her ears for a moment. It was deafening.
"Can I come with you?" She asked without meeting his gaze. She heard Paul sigh and shuffle from his place so she prepared for his rejection. Instead, she felt a warm arm on her shoulders.
"That is the plan." Paul said next to her. "Unless you want to go your own way. I will not force you to stay. But I can promise you that I will take care of you."
Octavia threw him a glance. He smiled at her sincerely.
"Once in Scotland, if you don't want to stay, I will not force you either. You can start over there. Enzo will never find you."
Octavia nodded. She was not sure of what she wanted for now but she trusted Paul. She would go with him for now. He had saved her. He had risked a lot. She could count on him.
Octavia did not know what was wrong with her. She had counted the moon cycles between her bleeding periods like Paul taught her to. They had made love a numerous number of times to be sure. And it still did not work. Octavia was not pregnant and she did not understand why. Paul, with all his medicine knowledge, kept saying that her former pregnancies had damaged her organs. That it was natural for woman's body not to be able to carry a child sometimes. That she should not obsess over it. But Octavia wanted a child.
After five years away from the circus, she had discovered what it meant to be loved with Paul. It had been difficult at first. Not knowing where her boundaries lied. She had kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the time Paul would reveal his true nature. But he had only been kind and gentle. Caring when Enzo had only been interested. Loving when Enzo had only been desiring. Paul showed her that she deserved to be cared for, that she deserved to be loved. That sharing days and nights were not supposed to need these many efforts. He had asked her to marry him two years ago. Had waited for her response for months, patiently waiting for her to be ready because he knew how much she had suffered in the hands of her former husband. When she had accepted, he had only showed joy. Tears of joy. And he had promised that he would take care of her for the rest of his life. That he would cherish her through life and death. And that he did not really care if she could not give him an heir. The most important for him was to be able to love her.
Octavia was not convinced. She wanted a child and she was sure that it would become a problem for Paul too, sooner or later. They needed to leave something behind, if not for perpetuating Paul's family name, at least she could do it to prove to the world that she could bring other things that the monstrosities that she was capable of. But Octavia was also convinced that these same monstrosities – her abilities, her gift – were the source of her inability to get pregnant or carry a child. She had used them too much. Now she had to pay for it.
Paul found his wife in her bath, shaking in the basin of already cold water, all gloomy eyes and dry tear tracks on her face. He sighed and approached, untying the tie around his neck.
"Come on, darling. You will catch a cold if you stay in there."
Octavia barely nodded but did not move. Paul sighed again because he expected this reaction. He pulled on the sleeves of his shirt. Without caring about his clothes getting wet, he plunged his arms in the water and, snaked them under Octavia's legs and waist and lifted her up. The water dropped around them in enormous puddles on the parqueted flour, on Paul's shiny shoes. It almost made Octavia react. Almost. Paul then dried her skin with a fresh cloth and dressed her up for the night. He knew that it was not necessary to talk anymore on a night as this one. He brought her some soup in bed and helped her drink it in total silence. Octavia kept her eyes fixed on the wall, deep in her thoughts, thanking her husband through lazy lips. Paul brushed her hair and covered her with blankets.
"I have the accounting to do but I will come back as soon as it is finished."
Octavia nodded vaguely and finally lowered her gaze on her hands. "Take your time."
Paul smiled slowly and leaned on her to kiss her forehead, then left their bedroom. Outside the door, he sighed heavily, his back hitting the wall. It seemed that it was the only thing he could do lately. Sigh. His wife worried him a lot. But what was he supposed to do? He supported her. He did not pressure her or encourage her obsession to have a child. He could only devote his faith to her, hoping that she would find peace at some point. That was it. His only solution was to hope Octavia would see reason eventually.
This time, it would work. Octavia was sure of it. She had discussed it plenty with Susan and Mary at their reunion the other day. Susan, as the older of the three of them, had tried to convince Octavia to give up on her attempts but Mary had showed support. Octavia's success could only mean more power for the small coven they were forming.
Since she had arrived in Scotland, Octavia had discovered a whole other world. One filled with women with the same abilities as hers. Searching for spices and certain types of dried flowers during the annual market, she had met Susan Putnam. Susan was ten years older than her and much more experienced in witchcraft than Octavia. Witchcraft, as she called it because they were not gifted by God. They were witches. Magical creatures who did not answer to the Lord's law. Susan had introduced Octavia to Mary Godwin, who was younger and married to a rich lawyer. The three of them were forming a small group of witches, a coven, and tried to learn from each other as much as possible. Octavia discovered love and affection like she had not before, not with her own sisters. A sense of community. A connection. Susan, Mary and herself shared a true sisterhood.
Mary was always shy with her talents, just like Octavia was at first. Susan had taught them how to be confident in their abilities. She was not scared of the persecutions even if they were increasing dangerously. Susan did not have a husband anymore. She lived alone with two daughters and did not want to take a second spouse. She had had one love and one love only. She could live by herself with the money her late husband had left. That was why she did not care about what the people was saying about her strangeness. They were talking about her already. Mary and Octavia were trying to stay discreet though. Especially since both of their husbands had a very noble place in the society. They did not want to tarnish their reputations. Or finish hung in a tree or burnt alive because they were witches.
It did not stop them to try new spells. They tried to stay hidden behind closed doors and not attract attention more than necessary but they still tried to improve their connection and their powers. And that was exactly what Octavia was trying tonight in the cellar of their two-story house in the center of Glasgow. Because she wanted a child and she was sure that after casting the spell she had created with Mary and Susan and drinking the potion, it would finally work.
From the beginning, they had a theory. They thought Octavia's blood was corrupted, just like it was the case with a disease. Octavia had read a lot about this in Paul's medicine books. Blood was a major part of genes, and therefore of pregnancy. Susan and Mary agreed to help, even though Susan was clearly against the idea at first.
"Birth and death are under natural laws. We shouldn't play with them." She had said with her thick accent.
It did not stop her from helping to gather the ingredients for the potion. It took them three months and a trip to London to gather everything they needed. Newborn tears were hard to find these days. The spell was supposed to connect Octavia's blood with the new blood present in the potion and clean it from its pollution. The potion then would liquefy her blood and make it more fluid so that it could mix well with Paul's blood as they would try to have a child.
After spreading the crystals correctly around her, Octavia started spelling the Latin incantation above the caldron while turning rapidly a wooden ladle in it.
"Abstrahe peccata mea. Dissolve malum. Dirige bonum." She repeated seven times.
At the end of the seventh sentence, she drank a ladle of the red fuming potion. It had a bad taste, as she expected it. Acid and sour. Burning her throat. Crashing in her empty stomach. But it was worth it. At first. The effects were instantaneous. The ladle fell in the caldron in a splash as Octavia doubled down in spasms. She should have waited for her sisters to be there. She should not have done it alone.
"Help!" She croaked out through panting breaths.
Her stomach was hurting. It felt like a knife had been plunge in it and was raking her insides with scrutiny, its blade perfectly sharp. Octavia felt a sticky fluid flow down her legs. She looked down and opened wide eyes in horror. With shaking fingers, she passed her hand underneath her dress and touched her intimacy. It was all red. Blood. Everywhere. Forming a giant pool at her feet.
"Paul!" She called out. "Paul!"
She knew that he was reading a book in the boudoir with the door open, just so he could hear whatever happened in the cellar. It was a habit since she had started this whole experiment. It was his way of looking out for her.
In a flash, Paul ran down the cellar's stairs and could not keep his whine in. The look of terror on his face only alarmed Octavia more.
"What happened?" He asked as he snaked his arm under Octavia's waist as gently as possible.
"The spell went wrong." Octavia grumbled through winces of pain. "My stomach hurts."
"You are bleeding too much!"
They were now walking slowly towards the stairs.
"Go and find Susan. She will know…" Octavia took a raged breath. "What to do."
"I will not leave you alone!" Paul objected, horrified by the idea.
"You cannot do anything!" She shouted through gritted teeth, spit falling from her lips. "Go find Susan!"
Paul paused to gauge her. She was right. It was out of his capacities. With a nod, he kissed her eyebrow.
"I love you." He said, before running up the stairs.
It seemed hours before Paul came back with Susan and a bag full of vials. Octavia's vision was blurry but not blurry enough for her not to see Susan's scowl.
"I told you that it was too dangerous to try, child." The woman admonished lightly while perusing in her bag.
She pulled out a vial with a pink liquid in it. She uncorked it and put it to Octavia's mouth.
"Take that. It will cancel most of the effects."
Most of them? Octavia drank the vial in one gulp and leaned back against the stairs.
"How long will it take?" She heard Paul ask.
"It is already working." Susan answered. "But her hair will not recover."
Octavia opened her eyes again. What about her hair? She took into their positions above her. Worried faces and blood all over Paul's clothes. Guilt rose in her throat at their sight. It was all her fault.
"You should give her a bath and put her to bed. Tomorrow will be a hard day."
"I know." Paul simply replied. "Thank you for your help, Susan."
Octavia did not see Susan acknowledge Paul nor quit the house. She only woke up two days later, disappointed with herself but thankful to be alive. It had not scare her enough to stop trying though.
"They executed more than six hundred women in Germany for the practice of witchcraft." Paul said while reading what it seemed to be a letter.
They were quietly taking breakfast in their spacious dining room as he spoke with worry in his voice. He had tried to hide it but Octavia knew him too well. She put her fork as calmly as possible on her plate to assess his remark.
"How do you know that?"
"I still send letters to my cousin." He said nonchalantly, showing the paper in his hands.
Octavia rubbed at the fresh coven mark on her wrist. It was Susan's idea. To connect them to each other. To protect them. If one of them was killed or injured, the others would be aware and could flee while they still could.
"Mary did not mention it."
Mary knew this sort of things. She attended numerous dinners with her husband and his high-profile relations who traveled around the world. She liked to stay quiet and listen to rumors and news. But she had not mentioned any new trial lately.
"It is far from Scotland, still."
Paul huffed and folded the letter angrily. "It is happening here too! The King has proposed the reinstatement of the Witchcraft Acts and ordered a curfew in North Berwick. This is dangerous, Octavia! You almost died! You must stop your experiments! People are getting suspicious enough with your new hair color."
Octavia curled a lock of blond and white hair around her finger. Her last spell had left traces. Her hair looked like it had been drained from all its energy. Susan was certain that she would never find her natural black hair back. It was not important. It had shocked in town, of course, but Octavia could not care less. She would change her skin color if it could give her a child.
"The witches in North Berwick are not discreet enough." She grumbled to her plate.
"What was that?"
Octavia rolled her eyes and plunged them in her husband's stare. "I said that we should leave them be suspicious. I am almost to the point of succeeding. I cannot stop now."
Paul pinched his nose and stood up, leaning on the table with both of his hands. His eyes were piercing and pleading.
"Is it worth it?" He sighed as Octavia nodded. "We do not need a child to be happy. My heart belongs wholly to you. Nothing can change that."
It was always the same discussion. Octavia made a ball with her napkin and threw it on the table. She stood up too because, since Enzo's treatment, she had promised herself to never be looked down again by a man.
"I will not feel whole until I can give birth to our child. I need it, Paul." She insisted. She hoped that he could see the sadness in her eyes because she was too proud to speak it aloud.
Paul sighed again and fell heavily in his chair. Octavia sat down too and observed him. He looked exhausted and worried to the point of making her regret her decisions. But it was too late. The new potion was almost ready. They had a chance to make it really work this time and change witchcraft forever. She would not pass this chance. Even more so for a king and his obsession with black magic.
Their theory had changed. They did not want to focus on blood. Octavia was certain that the problem came from her magic. The one that she used to heal people. Too many times to count. Using it this much had caused unbalance. Now, she was paying the price. For all the lives that Octavia had rescued, Mother of Heaven had decided that she could not have more. She already had taken too much. It was her duty to give now.
But Octavia had not said her last word. She was certain that there was still something to do. If her magic was the cause of the impossibility for Paul and her to have a child, then she would eliminate it. She could take her magic out of herself and live without it, if it meant for her to be able to be pregnant again.
Of course, Susan and Mary were against it. Octavia's powers were unnatural enough, getting rid of her magic was pure nonsense to them.
"I don't think you measure the consequences." Susan had told her.
Mary had agreed silently and they had left her for the day. The next, Mary was back, with a new recipe for the potion and ready to start on the new spell. They did not count on Susan.
The potion was ready now, and tonight would be her last attempt. If it worked, she would not need to try again. If it did not, she would be powerless, literally. Or perhaps worse. They could not really prepare themselves for the effects. For that, Susan was right. It was risky, but Octavia was determined to try.
They met in Octavia's cellar. The dim light of the candles reflected on the brick walls as Mary was spreading salt in a circle around the caldron. Octavia was focusing on her breathing, her hands on her stomach. Tonight was the night. The potion was ready. She knew the spell by heart. They had planned their ritual multiple times. Both of them knew what they had to do.
Mary stopped on the other side of the caldron and took several breaths to calm her nerves and collect her energy. It was simple, in theory. A typical exchange of magic. They were part of the same coven. They were already connected to each other. It should not be that dangerous or complicated.
"Are you ready?" Mary asked, her hands around the ladle.
Octavia opened her eyes. Mary looked collected. Octavia could feel how calm she was. Their energies were already communicating. It was perfect.
She nodded and placed her hands above the caldron. Mary turned once, twice in the potion then gathered the liquid in the ladle and gave it to Octavia who took a gulp. Mary took one too then let go of the ladle to take the same position. They shared a serious look. They had to hold their gaze from now. Linking their hands above the caldron, they nodded to each other and inhaled profoundly.
"I shed my powers. I give you my eternal voice. I give you the energy of Hecate, the strength of Gaia, the wisdom of Brigid. Accept this gift and cherish it as your own." Octavia pronounced solemnly.
"Sororis nexum invoco. Praesens concedo. Sororis nexum invoco. Praesens concedo. Sororis nexum invoco. Praesens concede." Mary repeated.
Their eyes started to glow. The air was rising around them. They could feel the energy crackling in the room. They kept repeating the same spell. Their bodies were heating up, consumed by the magic cursing in their limbs, in their blood. Everywhere around them. It was astonishing. They could not break their gaze but they could perceive pure yellow magic travel in the room and surround them in sparkling flows.
Octavia was the first to feel the effect. The spasms started. It felt like her body was being split in two. As if her soul was being drawn out of her, forcefully, without its consent. Octavia gritted her teeth in pain. She could not pronounce her part of the spell anymore. Nor kept her gaze focus on Mary. It was too painful. She could hear Mary's litany in a vague chant. Then she heard somebody scream. Or more like cry. As a newborn freshly out of his mother's womb.
Octavia opened her eyes and was mesmerized. It was working. A ghostly figure of herself was floating between Mary and her. The figure was crying. Screaming. It seemed upset to be pulled out. Octavia met Mary's eyes. She gave her a small smile. Mary responded with a proud nod. She kept repeating her part of the spell. With each sentence, the figure was pulled closer to Mary. It was shaking its head violently and kept whining.
"Sororis nexum invoco. Praesens concedo. Sororis nexum invoco. Praesens concedo."
"I shed my powers. I give you my eternal voice. I give you the energy of Hecate, the strength of Gaia, the wisdom of Brigid. Accept this gift and cherish it as your own."
"Nooo!" The figure screamed.
It resisted, determined to break the link. Octavia had to squeeze Mary's hands tighter. The figure was crashing on their arms, burning their skin. It kept resisting. Until it succeeded.
Octavia and Mary's hold was broken as they were both pushed away in a spark of energy. Magic was pulsing angrily, forming electricity. A storm was forming in the cellar as if they were in the middle of a plain in October. The figure turned around to stare at Octavia in rage. It rushed to her. Octavia crawled away in fear.
"No!" It shouted in her face. "With you or no one!"
Octavia was shaking. Never in her life, she had thought that her own magic could communicate. But it was hers. She had the right to decide whatever she wanted to do with it. Scrunching her brows, she stood up to step in the figure's space.
"I free you! You belong to nobody anymore. Go away!" She shouted in her turn.
The figure looked confused. It looked behind itself to Mary, who crawled away, scared speechless. The figure looked back to Octavia and seemed to gauge her. A decision was made. It eased itself on the ground calmly. The storm stopped in the room. Octavia approached the figure, sensing it had more to say.
The figure pointed to her lazily. "Octavia." It simply said. It put a transparent hand on its chest. "Other Octavia."
Octavia nodded. Behind the figure, she saw Mary standing up. Her friend looked shaken and kept her distance, observing the discussion. Octavia's eyes were brought back to the figure as it leaned towards her and took her hand. The sensation was intense, as their energies felt similar but different. Octavia felt the missing part inside herself. It had worked. She was surprised to find that her magic had its own personality, its own voice. It had worked better than they had been prepared for.
"Together." The figure said.
Octavia smiled softly. It felt like meeting with an old friend. No, with a long-lost family member. She intertwined her fingers in the figure's translucent ones. The touch was like a second skin.
"You are the other me. Together, but separated. Similar, but different. You are free to be."
"With you." The figure insisted.
Octavia nodded. It was for the best anyway. She did not know the effects of having her magic traveling the world alone, stuck in between two worlds. It was better to keep it close to her. She realized now that she was not entirely ready to give up on that part of herself. She realized too that they still had a lot to discover about their powers. This night, they had accomplished the impossible. Now, they had to face the consequences.
Mary approached tentatively and stepped next to Octavia. She extended a hand towards the other Octavia.
"Welcome to this world." Mary said with a hesitant smile.
Octavia could have laughed. It was typical from Mary. The figure frowned but took the hand. A spark of electricity ignited from the contact.
"Golly!" Mary cried out, shaking her hand quickly. "It is new."
"I think that you should keep your distance for now." Octavia smiled at her.
"Yes." Mary nodded, looking at the figure. "This is extraordinary. Susan won't believe it."
Paul ran down the stairs in a hurry, his wet coat and hair proving that the storm was not just contained inside the cellar. He took a look around the room and opened wide eyes as he saw the figure. Octavia observed the incredibility and fear cross his face. Yes, Susan would not be happy either.
"Octavia Ferrano, fifth daughter of Hildegarde of Bingen. You have aroused the wrath of the Gods."
Octavia woke up in a gasp. A deep female voice was addressing her in her mind. At her side, Paul was sleeping peacefully. The figure was looking at her from the corner of the room. It could hear the voice too.
"You have played with forces beyond your control. You caused unbalance which will have consequences for long after your death."
A chill ran down Octavia's spine. Goosebumps irrupted on her arms. Thunder cracked the skies, demonstrating the rage of the gods.
"I cannot accept your behavior. The gods had reunited to decide of your fate."
Octavia pushed the covers away and walked carefully across the room. She opened the door and closed it behind her with the same care, worried to wake Paul up. She rushed down the hall and closed herself up in the bathroom.
"Who are you?" She asked to the ceiling.
"I am everything. I am birth and death. I am nature. I am time and space. I am the Mother of all."
Octavia could not believe her ears. It was the Saint Mother. The goddess of all. Mother Nature.
"By Hecate." She mumbled, astonished. Her entire body started to shake.
"My daughter cannot help you here. Your sentence has been pronounced. You have compromised your bloodline for generations."
Impossible. Susan had warned her though. She should have expected it. But she did not. And now she was in trouble. They could kill her. Or worse.
"No! Please!" Octavia cried out. She fell down on her knees. "I beg for your forgiveness. Please. I wanted a child. I did not think of the consequences."
Thunder exploded outside the window. Octavia startled.
"Silence!" The voice shouted in her head with authority. Octavia crawled on herself on the floor. "You are a descendant of the unique bloodline, and for that, we cannot condemn you to death."
Octavia felt a rush of relief. At least, she would stay alive.
"But the ritual that you used to split yourself from your magic is unnatural. It cannot stay as it is. It is disturbing the natural flow of the universe. Your magic must be contained. It is too powerful to be free."
Octavia looked up to observe the figure, always accompanying her everywhere she went. It had felt natural to be followed around. The figure would stay inside as she would travel the town, but it was always next to her in the house. Like a shadow. Comforting. Ready to help if necessary.
"Your other self will receive a physical envelop. Your magic will be split between the both of you."
"Thank you!" Octavia rushed to say, tumbling on her feet. It did not feel like a punishment.
"I am not finished!" The voice boomed in her head. "Since you were careless enough to risk your whole bloodline, to tarnish all the work your ancestors have done, you will have to prove yourself."
"What? How?"
The voice stayed silent for a moment. Octavia thought hard about what it had just said. It was not clear. She did not understand.
"You are the chosen one. With great power. A hero to protect them all. As your alter ego, the Other Witch will rise to push the Unique Witch to the brink of Fate and, in the ashes of the Earth, you will conquer or perish with the rest of humanity."
Outside, the storm doubled with force. The trees' branches clacked against the window. The rain was pouring in big torrents. The figure started to flicker, as if the light was taken from it.
"Octavia!" It cried out. But Octavia could not do anything. She tried to grab at its hands but they were vanishing. Until the figure was not there anymore. Octavia's heart skipped a beat. Blood rushed up her head. Panic. What had she done? Where was her other self?
"I do not understand!" Octavia cried to the ceiling, tears of fright running down her cheeks. "What do you want?"
A gust of wind erupted from outside, opening the windows of the bathroom with violence. Octavia felt her body absorb a fresh flow of magic. Her magic. The one that she had drawn out of herself. It became clear now. Part of her magic was back. The other half was in the other her.
"Where is my other self?" She asked to the ceiling.
"The Other will rise. You must fight it and win or perish with the rest of humanity." The voice finally answered.
Octavia frowned. She did not want to fight her other self. It was a part of herself. It was not right.
"I disagree to it. This is unfair."
Thunder answered her. She startled and curled up on herself, sobbing. It was not up for discussion. What had she done? What would happen now? The door to the bathroom was thrown open. Paul ran to her and collected her in his arms. He did not ask anything, only reassured her as much as he could. Octavia cried. Rivers of tears which could not erase her mistakes. Never. It was impossible to fix. It was all her fault. Her pride. Her obsession. It was all on her. She had put them all in danger. And if she had understood correctly, it was only just starting. They would have to face so much more. There was nothing that they could do to reverse it. She could only face the consequences and wish for mercy when she would face her other self.
Running. It was their only chance. To escape the King's army. Running. Because their lives depended on it. Susan had been caught. Mary was going to be judged. They did not have any other choice. Running. Because they were the next ones.
Octavia grabbed at Aisling's little hand and pulled at it stronger. The four-year-old winced in pain but they had to hurry. Paul had planned a carriage for them. It was waiting for them on the other side of the forest, just outside Balmore. They were going West. To take a boat. To Ireland. Far away from Glasgow. Far away from the trials. Somewhere nobody knew who the Valshes were. Paul was already there. His flee had been disguised as a trip for work. It worked. Nobody questioned the dear young doctor and his charming smile. They only suspected his wife.
The full moon was bright above them. It was maybe their only solace. It gave Octavia the strength she had yore. Before all of this. Before the split. Before she decided to draw her magic out of herself. They ran across the forest, low temperatures biting their cheeks and fingertips.
"We are almost there." Octavia whispered loudly in the dark.
"My feet hurt." Aisling whined.
"Don't be a baby." Her sister chastised behind her. Octavia stopped to pull the eight-year-old by the shoulder.
"Hurry up. It will not take long before they search for us." She said in a grievous voice. The girl nodded and doubled her effort to follow Octavia's steps.
Aisling and Isobel were Susan's daughters. They had seen their mother clapped in irons, dragged across town to the gallows in nothing but her night gown, humiliated. Persecuted. Murdered. Susan was dead. By Octavia's fault. And she had sworn on her life that she would protect her daughters as if they were her own from now on. Especially since she heard the citizens talked about how the witch's daughters could only be witches too. The girls did not deserve that treatment. It was too dangerous to stay. Her choice had been made and she had talked to Paul. They were going to take care of them. But first, they had to run away.
"Look, the carriage is over there." Isobel pointed in front of them.
They neared the end of the forest and could see Duncan waiting for them. Loyal and trustful Duncan, her husband's longtime friend, always ready to follow Paul everywhere, in every situation.
"Come on, ladies. We're waited." The man said, helping them jump in the carriage. He checked that all three of them were well settled inside and put the small bolster that they carried with them next to Octavia's feet. The adults shared a knowing look. They only had a tiny chance to cross the country and reach Ireland without getting caught but Octavia was hopeful. She trusted Duncan to protect them and carry them safe and sound to the port.
The man nodded one last time and closed the door. The carriage shook under his weight as he jumped in front of the reins and slapped the horses to move forward. Octavia expelled a sigh of relief. Her hand glided to her slowly growing belly, caressing gently the fabric there. Their trip was only starting but she already felt lighter, knowing she was only getting further away from danger and putting the girls away from it with her too. She looked at the two little girls who she had promised to protect. Isobel was squeezing her sister hard against her in a comfort gesture. They both had their eyes closed, exhausted. A frown grew on Octavia's face. The guilt was oppressing but it was bearable. These girls had lost everything they knew but they were still finding comfort in each other. Octavia could do that for them. And more. They would start a new life. Away. With Paul. All four of them. Or maybe five, she looked down affectionately. Together. To face whatever they would have to face. Even if she had to die while fighting against her other self. At least the girls would be safe with Paul. And it was not all for naught.
A/N: Guys! I know it's been a while. I was in vacation and then I started doing a lot of research for this chapter and fell in a rabbit hole. Read a whole book about Salem's heirs and all... Anyway, if you're interested, I encourage you to search the Witchcraft Acts and Jacques 1st (5th)'s reign. It was horrible but very interesting.
I hoped you liked this little insight of what happened to Lena's bloodline and how the Other happened to be, kind of. There's parts I didn't answer here voluntarily.
Don't hesitate to tell me what you thought, it's important to me, especially about the writing.I had difficulties putting the tale in the 18th century so I hoped it was believable enough.
Thank you for your support and see you next time (sooner than you think)!
Take care.
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