"It's rare you'll find a mage with a pleasant past."
― Steven Erikson, Gardens of the Moon
☽★☾
Brynn stared at the other young woman for a moment longer, trying to figure out whether she was joking with her or not. But Joan's expression was all seriousness; not a hint of amusement could be found in her dark-eyed gaze. Brynn gulped and dipped her head. "I'll do whatever you need me to."
Joan seemed satisfied with her answer, because she nodded and got up from her seat, gathering her tarot cards into a deck and slipping them back into the cloth pouch. "Good," she said as she carefully set the bag back on its shelf. "Then I'm going to trust that you're speaking the truth. If I find out that you've betrayed us or that I was wrong to put my trust in you..." Joan trailed off, a small smirk resting on her lips. "Well, let's just hope that never happens."
A chill went down Brynn's spine. She nodded again, finding it hard to meet Joan's eyes as her heart raced with fear. "You won't regret it. I promise." Even though the words were barely a whisper, the young woman made a content humming sound in response.
"Alright. Then get up; I'm taking you to our hideout." Joan gave an impatient toss of her hair, settling her weight onto one hip while Brynn hesitantly stood up.
"Hideout? I thought this was your hideout." It definitely seemed like it was meant to be, with all of the supplies that could be found around the room. Not to mention all the people... If this isn't their hideout, then why are there so many people that Joan knows who seem to be living here?
Joan rolled her eyes with a soft snort. "It wouldn't be very hidden if it was, now would it? This is just the entryway. Think of it like a common room. Or like the first of many compartments in a labyrinth." Even though Brynn was still confused (and Joan seemed to realize that), the dark-haired woman slipped her hand into Brynn's and started off towards the far corner of the room. Her hand was cool and dry; it reminded Brynn of a doctor's hand whenever you shook it. Joan paused at a narrow doorway that appeared to be missing its door. She ran her hand up and down the wooden frame, seemingly searching for something, before inserting the tip of a fingernail into a knot in the wood. As Joan gave it a light twist, a patch of darkness slid out on the wall before them. No, not a patch of darkness, Brynn realized as she was tugged forwards. A pathway. A doorway to who knows where. She gave Joan's hand a squeeze as the young woman led her through.
Even though it had seemed dark and strange before Brynn entered, she quickly realized that this wasn't some paranormal portal that would take them into another dimension. It was actually just the entrance into some sort of tunnel, a space between the walls. It was far too dark for Brynn to see, so she kept bumping into Joan whenever she slowed down. At least the ground is fairly even, Brynn grumbled to herself after once more tumbling into the young woman in front of her. Finally, after what had seemed like hours of walking and crawling through the tunnel, the path reached a steep incline and the darkness seemed to fade away.
"It's getting lighter, right? I'm not just imagining it?" Brynn murmured as they continued upwards. Her calves burned from the climb, and it was a little difficult to find balance while clinging to Joan.
A rough laugh from in front of her signaled that Joan had heard what she had said. "Yes, it is. We're almost there." Brynn's sigh of relief was so loud that the young woman laughed again, a sound that reminded her of rocks on a tumbler. Even though it was rough and loud, it felt healing somehow, like spending enough time around the sound would make you feel better. It did ease some of Brynn's worries as the two steadily made their way upwards, until they finally stepped into a brightly lit room.
This room was far roomier than the one Brynn had first entered, and it had proper furniture in it as well. A large green sofa ― which, while being worn with use, still seemed to be in decent condition ― sat against the far wall. Three young women were sitting, including someone who looked incredibly familiar.
"Elise?" Brynn called to the young woman as she recognized her as the one she had met on the street only moments ago. She raised her head in response to the name, her brown eyes briefly revealing a bit of panic, and sent Brynn a small smile.
"Hello. Fancy meeting you here." Elise replied, carefully standing and walking over. Brynn felt the weight lift from her arm as Joan released her from her grip. As Elise nodded a greeting to the both of them, she leaned in to whisper something to Brynn. "I do want to advise you to be careful when addressing anyone by their street names here. We go by more secretive nicknames. That way, if someone were to get caught, they wouldn't be able to reveal more than a meaningless nickname, and therefore wouldn't be able to give any of the rest of us away."
Brynn nodded slowly. "So... what should I call you then?"
"Nightshade," Elise replied immediately. "And the one you followed is Moonfall." She tilted her head towards Joan, who was standing off to the side sharing a quiet conversation with the two others who sat on the sofa.
"Nightshade and Moonfall. Got it." She swept a lock of auburn hair out of her eyes and let out a breath. What have I gotten myself into? This is clearly a cult of some kind. As if sensing her discomfort, Joan stepped towards her with a questioning look in her eye.
"I assume you're confused as to what's happening. What you've been thrown into." While she didn't phrase the words as a question, Joan still seemed to be waiting for confirmation. Brynn cleared her throat and nodded. The other young woman offered a smile. "I figured as much. I guess I can at least let you know the basics of what's happening, but I'm afraid I can't share too much with you yet."
Joan motioned for her to sit down, so Brynn joined Elise and the two other women on the couch. It was a large enough piece of furniture that all four could sit without being shoved up against each other. Once she was situated, Joan cleared her throat, her gaze distant as she gathered her words. "Witchcraft wasn't always something people paid much attention to. Witches hid in the darkness, keeping what little magic they knew a secret. It wasn't because of the reasons we have to today. It was simply because there were some who couldn't do magic, and the witches knew that those people would be jealous if they saw witches performing it freely.
"It wasn't a problem until a few years ago. Salem Village ― that's the town west of here ― was originally joined with Salem Town. But they split into two because of 'differing Puritan values' or something like that. Between the hostilities between the two factions and the threats of Small Pox and everything, everyone just... went nuts over witchcraft. Suddenly witchcraft was something terrifying and demonic that went against religion. It gave people something to blame for every bad thing they were facing. They take it out on us every single time," Joan paused, taking a shaky breath. Her eyes were still focused on the space between herself and the wall. Brynn couldn't see her well in the dim lighting of the room, but she could have sworn that she saw tears in the young woman's dark eyes.
"Anyway. It's been getting more and more dangerous for witches. And men have gotten so hysterical over it all that they've been blaming innocent people ― mainly women ― for working with the devil and performing witchcraft, even though most of them have never even witnessed a spell being cast. That's why I've founded this little group. A society of witches and non-witches that, together, plans on stopping these witch hunts once and for all." Joan finally stopped then, her gaze regaining its focus as she glanced over at Brynn. "And now you're a part of it."
Brynn stared right back at her. Joan's description of what was happening didn't just sound horrible; it felt horrible. The way she had explained it all made it sound so deeply personal that it had struck a chord within her. I'm going to do everything I can to help. Even if I'm still not entirely sure what that will involve.
"If you're going to be a member of our group," Joan continued after a moment, adjusting the lopsided collar of her shirt. "Then you better make it seem like you belong."
"How do I... How do I do that?" Brynn asked. She glanced at the young women on either side of her; not only Elise, but the two others who had yet to be introduced. They were all staring at her, their eyes stuck on her like glue. It was impossible to tell whether their gazes were judgmental or not.
A hint of a smirk tugged up Joan's lips. "A nickname and a makeover will probably do just fine for now. We're going to make you look like you're one of us."
☽★☾
"Are you sure this looks okay?" Brynn asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time. While there seemed to be plenty of furniture, tables, and food, there wasn't a single mirror to be found. She had to rely on the opinions of the others in the room and hope that they knew what they were talking about.
It wasn't that the outfit Brynn was trying on wasn't nice ― it was actually much more comfortable than the dress she had been thrown into after appearing here ― but it definitely wasn't what she was used to. Both the makeshift shirt and pants were plain black in color, the fabric was somewhat rough, and the measurements were lopsided but somewhat more realistic than the general measurements of the modern clothes Brynn knew. It made her wonder if homemade clothes like this should have been more popular in the future. But it wouldn't be nearly as efficient. And the clothes back home are definitely a bit less awkward-looking than this.
"You look fine," Joan replied with a roll of her eyes. "Just let me pin up the waist a bit more, and it'll look even better." She moved in behind Brynn, holding one pin in her mouth while she used a hand to pin up the waist of the pants, making them fit tighter so they wouldn't wind up slipping down. Joan made a comment about her narrow hips and she had to try her hardest not to blush. What kind of a comment is that? Why is that something she'd notice or care about? Brynn could feel her breath on the back of her neck as she fixed the fabric; she felt a moment of skin on skin when the shirt shifted up. It's the seventeenth century. I'm pretty damn sure the fact that I'm thinking about these things with a girl is more than illegal.
Joan backed away and looked her up and down. She gave a nod, seemingly satisfied with her handiwork. "Yeah. I think it looks good. Definitely better than that stiff dress you were wearing before, right?"
Brynn only nodded with a smile. "Yeah," she murmured, rubbing the back of her neck. "Much better." She caught Elise sending her a curious glance and she wanted to tackle the young woman right then and there.
"It'll be way easier to move around in, too. That's why most of us choose to wear these. But if we need to hang around the streets and act casual, you wouldn't find us dead in a tunic and pants. That's when the dresses come to be used." Joan seemed to realize that she had been talking for a bit, because she abruptly cut herself off and stared off into the distance for a moment. "You can embroider your clothes to make them more personal if you want. I took some black thread and did this." She bent down and lifted up the bottom of her right pant leg. When she tilted it just right, so that the light shone off of the thread, Brynn could see that a design had been threaded into the material.
"A crescent moon," Joan answered thoughtfully before Brynn could ask what the design was supposed to look like. "I figured it was fitting. I chose my own nickname, actually. I was born on the night of a waning crescent moon, and I was born so late at night that the moon was beginning to set. Between the phase and the time, 'Moonfall' seemed perfect; the moon was nearly gone when I was born. I used to think that the moon fell right out of the sky when I was younger. It would rise, and get so high up, and then suddenly it would begin to trail off to the other horizon. I thought it was falling. My mother always chided me for trying to run off and save it." The words felt so tender and personal that a small part of Brynn ached to reach out and wrap Joan up in her arms. But the young woman was smiling, seemingly savoring the thought of the memory. Brynn hadn't seen her this relaxed and happy since she had gotten here; she would hate to take the moment away from her.
"Anyway," Joan eventually began with a shake of her head. The wistful expression on her face had disappeared, hardening into the determined look Brynn had already grown accustomed of seeing. "It's time to come up with your nickname. Normally it's something I christen our members with, since I'm seen as the leader." She stared at Brynn for a long moment, dark eyes seeming to burn right into her soul. She swore she could feel a tugging sensation, as if her thoughts were being pulled out of her, as Joan studied her.
Joan finally stepped back and nodded. The movement called forth the attention of all the others in the room. While there were only a few besides Joan, Elise, and herself, it seemed as if an entire crowd had come to watch. She was about to be given a name and brought into this secret society. A shiver of worry tugged at her stomach. They all seem to be here with purpose. They know what they're doing. Are they going to accept me here? Is giving me a nickname and a costume enough to make me a part of something like this?
"You came here and took me by surprise, which is pretty damn tough to do. You snuck up on us. It was as if you came out of nowhere," Her words were directed at Brynn and Brynn alone. Joan's dark eyes held her hazel ones in such a firm gaze that it would have been impossible to look away. "You had such a powerful and mysterious energy about you. I don't think you know clearly enough what you're doing. But you seem to know that you need to learn." She quirked a tiny smile that seemed like a secret the two of them were to share. "For all of these reasons and for all of the hopes I have for you here, plus that red hair of yours, I'd like your nickname to be Vixen. Do you accept your name, which will be the only name used for you amidst our group, and only in the presence of members of our group?"
Brynn couldn't find it in herself to turn away now. Not from those mysteriously dark eyes right in front of her, which seemed to be urging her forwards into the light and whatever came with it. "I accept."