It was growing on Rjar. The badger, that is. So much so that he was actually considering naming the little guy. At least, he assumed he was a guy. There wasn’t really a guidebook on spectral animals. Actually, there probably was, it just hadn’t found its way to the witches grasp yet. But what would you name something that you know so little about; including whether or not it will stick around for the long term.

Regardless of whether the spectre would stick around or not, Rjar began racking his brain for names. It would be easier to call it something other than “badger” or “annoying little shit.” Though the second name had somewhat fell into obscurity as of late.

”Tadg,” the caster said aloud, his dark eyes falling on the badger. ”Does that name suit you?”

The badger began flitting around excitedly; soft noises echoing from its presence. Apparently the name was approved.

”Tadg it is!” The witch could not help to smile at his companion. Not the rehearsed smile that could find enough light to sparkle even in the darkest of caves, but a genuine one. It had been quite some time since he felt this level of joy in the absence of darkness. Who would have thought that all that it would take is a badger showing up and refusing to leave him alone?

The enchanter helped the badger, or Tadg rather, up to his shoulder as his feet fell on the gravel paths of Zet’ski cradle. The cradle was as impressive as ever; stained glass highlighting colors in the granite that would be otherwise missed. It was no wonder that this place was named “cradle.” Something wondrous was born every time he saw it.

It was true that he had only seen it once in person, but he had studied sketches of the area a million times as a child. It was a fascination that never really went away. In all reality, it was quite interesting that he worked in the blackest of magicks, but was still infatuated with the colorful workings of light in this town. He couldn’t help but chuckle despite himself.

He made his way through the city; smiling in trained response at the people that he happened to pass in the streets, muttering polite small talk, and taking as many mental images as he thought he could contain. He felt like a tourist, and almost let himself fall prey to the site seeing urges that moved through his body, but quickly reminded himself why he was here. He needed to get to the bottom of the magickal irregularity. It had been too long since he had been able to cast without fear of backlash. And despite the explanation from Zanar, it was an obligation to himself to verify the causation.

He glanced around at the people treading the pathways of the city and wondered how he could get rid of them; not necessarily in the dead way, but that could work too. He had worked out a ritual to ground himself to the land and feel for the irregularity. Though, admittedly, he had not gotten to try it out yet. But he was sure that it would work if he could set up the circle, but something told him that people would be quick to interrupt a witch whispering to the shadows in the middle of a crossroad –a major condition of the spell.

”Do you have any ideas of how to scare these people away?” Rjar whispered to his new familiar. It was a rhetorical question; or so he thought.

Tadg did a little spin along the necromancers shoulder before nipping at his neck. The bite didn’t exactly hurt, but it felt odd. As if something had been pulled from him. As if a spell had been cast.

All at once, there it was. A shadow elemental the likes of which Rjar had never seen. The logical part of his brain wanted him to run, but something deeper kept him there.

”Mei estis?” he inquired, feeling out the entity’s magick as best he could under the circumstances.

The entity simply nodded in response. He was there to serve Rjar. But how?

Tadg danced a little again as his master’s dark eyes fell on him. He had cast the summoning spell for him. How? Were the spectral animals some sort of filter?

”Thank you,” the witch said in a faint whisper before springing into action.

He sat cross legged in the center of the crossroads and instructed the dark elemental to scare off any that may approach. It was a simplistic request, but there was no way of telling how long the summon would last.

His fingers moved into the gravel of the walkway and he shut his eyes tightly, pulling on the darkness within him and pushing it into the ground. He began searching for the source of the irregularity as quickly as he could. It should only take a moment, but with the current circumstances, anything was possible.

The music was what he enjoyed most. It was odd to be at a temple for someone else for a change, especially when he didn’t know said deity -past or present- personally. The haunting chant echoing off of the perfectly constructed acoustics of the temple was incomparable. From where he was laying in the rafters he could even feel it vibrating around him; blanketing him in the warmth of each harmonized voice.

Something about the magick music had on its own made him remember his former mortality: he felt small, but not in a bad way. No, it was more like a child being embraced by a comforting parent or some other such figure. It had been a while since he’d actually felt safe. Who knew that visiting the religious house of another completely separate group would offer him that feeling?

A smooth beak nudged at his chin and he cracked just one eye open, looking to the side and being met with the golden eyes of his spectral falcon. Even though the lapin had calmed into its true familiar form for Angela and Drae’s newborn, this heavenly bird had not left his side. It blinked at him knowingly and he sighed in return. Again it nudged before standing tall as if awaiting its charge to hurry along for another day of schooling or some other boring pass time.

Instead, Naota sat up and allowed his legs to dangle over the sturdy beam. He had himself cloaked in invisibility so none of the choir or clergy could see him, though the golden spectral falcon surely was a giveaway of some kind. He rose an arm up automatically and the creature hopped up to rest near the crook of his elbow. It was time to go, as a deity he knew he at least had to make an appearance at the celebration. Angela and Drae likely wouldn’t even be there since they had their newborn to think of, and he just knew he’d feel out of place.

His time on Revaliir was a blink in comparison to how long he’d been in DaeLuin, and these days he felt more like an outsider than one of the conclave. A gentle nip plucked at the shell of his ear and he looked over to be nose to beak with the falcon: somewhere amidst his brooding it had shimmied its way up to his shoulder.

He arched an eyebrow at it and snuck a quick kiss at its beak. A smile and angelic laugh echoed from his lips when the falcon’s feathers ruffled around its neck. If a bird could blush and scowl at the same time, this is what it would look like. “All right, all right,” he conceded quietly to his new companion before flickering out of the temple and onto the streets.

“I’d name you,” he called up to the falcon, who now was circling above his head, “But I can’t help but think you’d find it rude.” In response, the falcon dipped down and allowed the tip of one of his wings to brush along his cheek in a formal, if not loving, gesture.

Naota chuckled and continued their journey on foot. He wasn’t disguising who he was tonight, what was the point? As people dipped their heads respectfully or offered their well wishes for him to pass along to Angela and Drae, he simply smiled politely, agreed to their simple requests, and tried his best to not linger in one place for too long. Everyone was used to him being soft and patient and allowing himself to stand for hours upon hours with a single person, but he wasn’t that man anymore. It was hard to try and keep up that appearance, and each day it whittled away more and more.

In the distance he saw a crossroads, not unexpected, but what was a surprise -enough of one to momentarily distract him from his negative thoughts- was a young man…sitting down? The falcon alighted onto his shoulder and began to preen its feathers, though its talons were clamped protectively around Naota. The sheen of his feathers glowed brighter the closer they got, and now the deity was intrigued.

“You have my friend here on alert,” he said to the boy as he approached. “You wouldn’t happen to be doing something suspicious would you?” he asked, without it really being much of a question.

His energy reached deep into the earth; pulling essence into him from all directions. The ritual was supposed to allow him to pull the power that had been generated in the last few days due to the magickal disruption, but all that it was doing was filling him with earthen energy. Sure, on any other day it would have been useful to have stores of spirit, but in his current -nearly overflowed- state it was more of an exacerbation.

Reverberations form casters all around the city plucked at the tendrils of his spell. He searched deeper and deeper and was unable to find anything out of the ordinary. At first.

All at once there was a massive power in the scope of his essence drain, but was somehow unphased by the spell itself. What kind of entity could overwhelm a full blown ritual. No, Rjar wasn’t so dense as to believe that his intention was enough to impact all beings of the realm, but he at least thought that it would have had some level of impact; however mild it may be. To be completely untouched by the darkness squirming through the soil, they would have to be something akin to a god.

No. Please no.

No, it couldn’t be. His whole life he had somehow managed to never cross paths with a single deity. What are the chances that he would meet two in a single month. Zanar had been nice enough all things considered; drank a little, scared him a little, and unknowingly gave him a hunting tip. Something from the feeling of the presence of this being made him think that this interaction would not go as well.

The sound of Tadg’s chitters penetrated the focus of the spell; pulling his attention back to the present. Rjar slowly -reluctantly- opened his eyes to see who stood before him just in time to hear the god speak.

It was Naota. The lord of light. The deity to all things holy and shiny. Of course it was. Rjar has heard so much about him through his network of witches. He was pretty much the opposite of all things held dear to a witch of darkness and while he was known for being extremely kind, he was also the very deity that could easily vaporize him with an accidental sneeze.

”I suppose that would depend on what your definition of suspicious is,” he said in his normal charming tone. ”I was trying to figure out the root of the magick issue. I figured that if I could figure out what was happening, that I might be able to counteract the issue,” he said, slowly getting to his feet; making sure to keep his hands and energy at noncombative levels.

If there was any chance of staying on the god’s good side, he needed to take it. It was no secret that Naota would be a very bad enemy to have for someone like him.

His eyes followed his movements with practice calm and he slowly nodded; gaze flicking to the spectral badger. That alone told him the boy had power, even if the other signs weren’t there. “A newborn’s familiar,” he said, crossing his arms comfortably, “Or at least that’s where the lapin came from. I’m sure Drae will have his ear to the ground about any of the other…” his eyes moved up briefly in thought, “Side effects.” True, seeing as Drae was the main authority on these kinds of things.

There was a smell to him, one he recognized: all magick had a smell really, and this boy’s was fragrant and laced. And still there was that undercurrent, that common thread that followed him like the bonding scent through family members. “You’re a witch,” he stated, quirking one eyebrow while the rest of his face stayed calm if not more serious than usual. What was bothering him most was that said tainting that wouldn’t leave. The falcon was right to be agitated.

“Well then,” he started, a slow grin spreading as his eyes glinted brighter, “It’d be best not to take in too much, your eyes might be bigger than your stomach.” Though his words were a mere suggestion, his tone was more final. Witches weren’t vampires, but this one had enough of a dark aura surrounding him that he felt the same innate protectiveness towards the town behind him that he would have felt if he were looking at a common blood sucker.

So what Zanar had said was true. Godspawn, and the magick that springs fourth from their birth, really are terrifying. He faintly remembered another goddess losing a child and impacting the entire realm. It was an interesting thought that birth and death could be so closely related. One could say that darkness and light should be similarly linked, but standing before the epitome of light, Rjar could say that definitely was not the case.

”That’s a rather odd statement,” Rjar mumbled, his mask of chivalry failing him for a moment. His feet still vibrated against the power of his spell; taking in only the most minute amount of energy and, unfortunately, pulling his focus. Despite the fumble his eyes remained locked on the deity. He spoke as if he knew everything about the dark witch, and, if the stories were true, it was a safe bet to say that he did.

There was the word. Witch. Son of a bitch… The rumors have officially been verified.

”Yes, I’m a child of nature. I work with magick using the old ways,” he said in a rehearsed, yet somehow not unearnest, tone. It was a question that he had been asked a hundred times during his travels, and the ‘child of nature’ phrasing was the least threatening way that he had been able to answer. And it wasn’t untrue. He did honor nature, and all the power in it. It just so happened that the natural energy that he was drawn to was that of shadow.

He felt Tadg on his shoulder; gently nipping at his neck. What was he doing? Last time that he had done that, he’d pulled power. But this time, it was as though he was empowering him: he could practically feel the heat of the rune on his neck as his instincts heightened. It seems as though Tadg felt it best that Rjar be fully prepared for anything; even if that meant trying to dodge the god in favor of hiding in the mountains and relying on what little survival skills that rested in his master.

”I’d ask you not paint me unfairly,” he said; releasing his spell –and the drawn energy- back into the earth. ”I only sought to understand. The energy boost this would have given me would have only been a temporary added bonus.” He was smiling. But not the kind of smile that graced his lips the majority of the time. It was edged; nervous. And somehow cracked. He was scared. For the first time since he was in his father’s home, he was actually afraid of another person. It didn’t suit him.

”After all,” he said with a chuckle, ”knowledge is power.”

He was afraid, and a previous version of himself would have softened. Now, however, he didn’t; his eyes instead glinted brighter. It wasn’t that he enjoyed someone having even a pebble of fear towards him, but there was a balance to be held between fear and respect…it was a tightrope walk, one that so far he hoped not to tumble from. So far he hadn’t.

“Witch is just fine,” he said, “If you’re going to be something, be proud of what you are. Even if it is something wicked. At least in front of me.” He had no doubt that the other had pride in himself – you didn’t get to his level of magick without at least some confidence after all. While darkness spread from him like smoke from a recently snuffed flame, he did still understand the instant prejudice his kind got, regardless of their alignment. That line was practiced. He didn’t blame him, but still, if you can’t be honest in front of a deity then who can you be honest in front of?

“Judgment isn’t my realm,” he stated not unkindly as he began a slow walk around him; his head tilting this way and that, taking him in, sniffing him out so to speak. The falcon lifted from his shoulder and started a slow but focused circle over head around them, its golden glowing eyes never leaving the pair or the other spectral familiar.

“Yes, knowledge is power. Knowledge is also dangerous, especially when coupled with less honorable intentions for said power. But,” a smile spread across his lips like breaking glass, “I won’t jump to conclusions.” He spoke truthfully, but there was still that underlying tone of threat.

“So tell me,” he stopped behind him, but a good meter away, “What brings you to Zets’Ki Cradle?” An eyebrow quirked up, “It can’t solely be to feel out the energy, can it?”