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She does not do much these days.
Her head is finally filled with blessed silence and she should feel alive in her new home and reborn family, yet there is still ash on her tongue and fire plaguing her dreams. It’s like she can’t hear anything, can’t do anything at all but wander aimlessly in the ancient halls of the Sanctuary akin to the souls she sent to Dread Father months ago in this very place.
Months? Has it been this long already?
It’s like her siblings died just yesterday.
She does not understand why she is even alive.
Nazir has moved on. He runs this Sanctuary well – finds new brothers and sisters, sees to making this new place a «home» and organizes the contracts. Just as before, they are heard about eventually. Maybe he misses some, but there’s enough for them to make a living, so is it really that bad? Perhaps some prayers are not meant to be heard.
She wishes she never heard Amaund’s.
Babette continues into eternity. She has lost family before, is bound to lose more, and she has made peace with that a long time ago. She gets two new spiders and grows another garden and kills at the requests of people who call for the Night Mother.
The Night Mother is gone.
This is the only thing that makes her feel some kind of relief and she hates herself even more for it. She has failed as everything. As a sister, as a daughter, as the Listener, yet she a part of her is glad that she does not have to hear the gentle voice that pushed her to bring everyone’s doom.
They don’t need grand contracts and glory, they just need to stay alive and safe.
Cicero feels as lost as she is, if not more. He wept and cried and scratched his face into a bloody mess when she told him, and then remained by the empty coffin, refusing to move and do anything. She had to force-feed him at some point. She still has to sometimes.
Surprisingly, he does not blame her.
She wishes he did. Maybe she would feel better if he screamed at her and tried to stab her and told her that everything was indeed her fault because she is tired of hearing that it was not.
She forbids to call her the Listener anymore. She hates that word.
The blood of her victims is cold and surprisingly dull. She has not enjoyed a single one of them since putting the Blade of Woe into Maro’s neck. Still, she continues. The contracts must be fulfilled after all, and the Sanctuary needs gold.
A month goes after a month and it is never over.
At night she feels like she is choking on the smoke that never left her lungs. Like the world is gone and there is only darkness, only emptiness, she is trying to reach at least someone but finds herself lost and alone. It holds on to her and devours her, part by part, claims and brands her, and it severs her very soul. She lies still and does not move, letting it consume her for it is not so different from life after all.
She wakes up alone in an empty cold chamber and vomits down the blood that has filled her mouth.
She feels its presence all the time afterward, following her, watching her kills, and listening to her cries.
It feels wrong and right at the same time.
And she feels sick like there is a tumor inside of her stomach that is trying to push life out of her.
Babette examines her and smiles mischievously.
«You’re not sick», but she is, she knows it, she- «I didn’t think there was a man worthy of your affections, sister»
«A man?»
«You are with child»
That is not possible. She has not been with anyone ever in her life, never so much as touched a man if it was not for taking his life. Babette insists. It cannot be anything else.
And when her stomach continues to grow, all doubts are dispelled.
She never speaks of the father. She does not dare to think about him. Or about what she is expected to do with this child.
«Just don’t make me babysit too often», Nazir laughs, patting her on the shoulder. She tries to force a smile.
«I wonder if this makes me a big sister or an aunt», Babette wonders out loud during dinner.
Cicero looks at her with a surprisingly clear look, as if he also feels it.
He helps her around because the child inside makes her too big and clumsy. He brings her food when she feels too sick and tired to get out of bed. He does her hair and braids flowers into it, singing his stupid little songs while doing so. She appreciates it.
She gives birth on a cold winter day. It is painful and bloody, and she screams as the child comes out of her. Afterward, she wonders if all women go through this or if her pain is some kind of a unique cruel gift from Father.
She does not want to look at the newborn but, against all better judgment, she does.
Her daughter is surprisingly ordinary. She is a child. She is small and she cries in Babette’s arms when taking her first breath. She looks like her mother, like a mortal, like something very much alive and warm.
She names her Gabriella and holds her close, scolding herself.
There is nothing about this child that is not normal. She learns how to crawl, cries at night when her mother tries to put her to sleep, and babbles some words that none can understand yet. She laughs at the faces Cicero makes and loves playing with Nazir and tries to chew on Babette’s alchemical ingredients.
The Void consumes her again after Gabriella lives her first year. It is as dooming as before, and she feels like she is about to forever join their Father, yet she wakes up again, weary and with blood on her tongue.
Gabriella feels it before anyone can notice. Maybe they have a connection from the Void that can’t be broken by being alive. She sits by and puts tiny hands on her mother’s flat stomach, her eyes wide with excitement.
«How many are you planning to have?», teases Nazir, while the girl plays with his beard.
«I don’t know»
That’s all she can say. All she can do is accept and wait.
She names her son Veezara. She holds him and looks into his wrinkled face, and kisses him on the forehead. She then lets Gabriella see her brother.
She dreads the day she will have to part with them.
Life goes on and she feels better on some days. Probably? She does not go to the contracts, instead helping to train the new members and scolding them after they get into trouble before healing their bruises and coming up with ways to deal with problems. She watches over her children, growing and learning fast. Gabriella’s first word is «mama». Just that. She does not know what she expected, but for some reason, it makes her happy.
Veezara likes the little knife Cicero gave him. She does not dare to take it away from him, no matter how small her son is.
Cicero is a constant presence in her life. He follows her when she goes out, ready to kill anyone who dares to breathe in her direction. Not that she needs protection, but she realises that she enjoys his company and finds his obsession to be sort of adorable. Sometimes he acts like a child as well.
He says some joke that makes zero sense and she laughs. Then stops, because the sound is so foreign and strange. She has not heard herself laugh in years. The last time was when Arnbjorn called her one of his stupid nicknames right before she left and she giggled and stuck her tongue at him.
She breaks down right afterward, causing the poor jester to almost panic.
It is easier the second time. She laughs and she hates herself, yet she ends up laughing again. She wonders if the dead despise her for it too.
She has avoided thinking about them. She never forgets, but she also never lets herself remember. So she lies at night, her children peacefully sleeping at her side, and she makes herself think about whom she loved, and she silently cries and wants her family back.
It’s been six years. It’s been a few hours.
Her burnt skin hurts.
When her second son is born, she names him Arnbjorn. She listens to his cries and wonders what it would be like to have children with someone she actually loves, with someone who loves her and would be with them here and not waiting for his offsprings on the other side.
She is here. She loves them here. She hugs all three of them and does not let go for a long time.
Gabriella is a natural. She trains her, forges a blade for the girl herself, and her daughter takes to their art immediately, quick and witty, absorbing any piece of knowledge brothers and sisters have to offer. She proudly runs to her mother after managing to repeat a move and demands to be praised.
Veezara has no trouble keeping up with his sister. He may be younger but he is just as smart and eager to learn. He helps Babette in her garden and secretly (the vampire knows but pretends to look the other way just this once) picks up a few flowers, which he then gives to his mother to wear in her hair.
She plays with Arnbjorn and wonders how long they have.
She loves and despises the honor placed upon her. She wishes the Night Mother would speak to her again and tell her how to do this. When does she do it? How does she do it? How can a mother sacrifice her own children? How can she part with her family again?
She dreads the moment the Void will claim her again, yet she craves it all the same.
It returns and tortures her as always.
«Sister, where is their father?», Nazir finally asks. «I don’t want to get in your business, bu-»
She watches her children playing with Babette’s spiders. They are laughing and squealing. Gabriella waves at her when she notices.
«I am worried about you»
She does not answer, but her face and the tears that begin falling from her eyes no matter how hard she fights them back say everything that needs to be said. Nazir sighs tiredly and gently pulls her close.
She finally outright tells herself that she does not want to sacrifice her family.
All three of them excitedly talk about their new brother or sister. They follow her and they think she can’t see them. Maybe if she was an ordinary person, she wouldn’t. They are gifted little things. But she notices their every step. They always argue about the name, and each one of them thinks that their idea is the best. She really does not want to upset them, but she already has the name.
It’s the first time she gives birth at night. And it is as painful as all the other times.
«Please, tell me it’s a sister!», Gabriella nags after the baby is born. «Please!»
«I’ll have to disappoint you», Babette, still a bit taller than the girl, chuckles. «You have another brother»
Gabriella lets out a quiet «ugh» and frowns, yet comes to look at the child nevertheless.
«Can we at least name him Lucien?»
The brothers immediately jump to fruitless arguing, two seconds away from starting a fight.
«His name is Festus». And that’s the final word.
None of them seem to like it that much, but they don’t quarrel with their mother over this, instead all climb onto the bed and look at their new brother, when Babette gives him back to her.
At that moment she knows she can’t sacrifice them.
She expects the Wrath of Sithis to appear and punish her. She foolishly intends to fight it, and she prepares for it, yet everything is quiet. Her children grow and so does the Sanctuary. It’s like they are blessed despite the fact that she has not yet fulfilled her role.
She tells everyone. She tells them how the Void claimed her time and time again, how special her children are, and how she is expected, according to an old legend, to sacrifice them and give their souls to their father.
«Do we call you the Night Mother now?», Babette finally asks, looking at her with pity.
She shivers.
She can never do what her predecessor did. She knows this is not what the Brotherhood needs. She lies awake at night and thinks about it, thinks about the fall of many Sanctuaries, thinks about the silence, about the fire, and for the first time, she does not cry. She thinks of the future, of her children all grown up, of her brothers and sisters safe.
«Cicero does not understand you»
She is sorry. The jester looks confused and maybe even upset, and it is hard to explain to him, what she is doing, yet she tries. She embraces him and strokes his hair and then plants a kiss on his forehead as she does with her children.
«You don’t have to understand», she says quietly. «You have to believe me. If he wished to claim them, he would have had his way long ago»
Gabriella fulfills her first contract at twelve. The little assassin brags about it for a whole week and gets extremely angry when Veezara manages to fulfill his own just a month after. She has to talk to her daughter and explain that it does not matter and that they all serve the Dread Father equally. The girl barely wants to listen, and there is resentment written all over her face, yet she thaws soon enough, promising that she most definitely will kill more people than Veezara at least.
The daughter runs off, says something to her brother and they laugh, all grievances forgotten for the time being.
This is a start.
Their younger siblings beg for contracts too, yet she does not comply. There is time for everything and they are still far too young. She helps them train instead.
Festus, despite being named after a magical prodigy, is not interested in magic at all. It is funny. She laughs when thinking about it and forges him a nice training blade instead, which he immediately likes.
His brother at least seems to adore huge weapons just like his namesake. Luckily, he is not big enough to pick one just yet – he tries very hard though.
After she puts them all to bed – even Gabriella and Veezara, the fact that they successfully send souls to the Void does not mean that she has to stop being their mother – she kneels before the image of Sithis and prays. She thanks him for the gifts he has given her, for not abandoning her in her darkest hour, for bestowing this honor upon her. She then speaks about the future, not knowing if he listens, if he even cares, but she tries nevertheless, telling him how their children can serve him and the Brotherhood, how they can send him many souls, how she will be there to teach and guide them and she finally asks.
Please, give me time with them. Let us join you years later. I am your loyal servant and shall do as you demand, yet I will ask you time and time again to grant me this wish.
It is quiet for what seems like an eternity, and then darkness embraces her. It is peaceful, almost serene, like lying by your lover for hours without moving, simply absorbed in one another. She drowns in it and gives herself to the Void.
Her hope is handed to Him bare.
When she wakes up the silence is broken.
She does not hear the voice of the Night Mother, but a flow of prayers from many people.
Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother
Send your child unto me
And before she can fully comprehend what she is saying, she is already giving orders. The prayers must be answered. She walks up to her children and tells them where to go and whom to speak to. The Brotherhood looks at her in awe, they dare not breathe, instead listening to what she says. Cicero laughs more happily than she has ever heard him.
And she speaks and speaks and speaks.
After she finishes, she embraces her children, and covers their faces with kisses, despite the eldest protesting.
She thinks, she feels alive. And happy. She will feel so for many years to come.
She shall care for her children and make sure they join their Father at the right time, not a minute earlier. And she shall do the same for all who come after them and pray to her.
So is the duty of a Mother.