Chapter 24 Darius
Suggested Listening: Stamp on the Ground by Italobrothers
“This is a good room.” It feels utterly silly to speak some thoughts out loud when Isa can hear my inner musings as easily as they come to me, but most rooms aren’t also alive.
It feels important that I tune myself to the house as much as I need to tune myself to this new family.
“Very… Vibey. Very connected. Very good.”
There’s a slight rumble, or maybe a vibration, through the floorboards under the extremely large ottoman I’ve sprawled over. Honestly, I thought it was a very small bed when Isa directed me toward it. My arms and legs hang off, which only heightens the sensation of floating through the air.
Poppy grows some top-shelf shit, as my brother would say. I’ve spent most of the day in what the budtender girl called a high-as-a-kite state. Honestly, I’m not accustomed to being without witchweed, so it’s been nice to find my balance again. Even if I over-indulged.
There are some theories that witchweed was once native to our lands and brought to the human realm.
Seers have a shared history that bears some secrets that haven’t been erased.
I find there are similarities between the ancient herbs the fae seers once used, and the witchweed favored today. But it’s just a theory.
There’s a mellowness in my limbs, body, and mind that is often difficult to achieve during distressing times.
This relaxed, open state is ideal for seeing.
But I’m not trying to actually see anything.
No, I need to connect with the house, the nexus of power in the earth, and the rest of this little family.
I need to leave myself open and allow tendrils of my power to connect to the others.
Much like Gracie’s witch powers have begun bonding her to us, little by little.
Luciu and I couldn’t hear what transpired below, but knowing my brother? I can guess. They must have gone somewhere else to work things out, or I expect Luciu would have ducked back in here with me to avoid getting caught in the crossfire of words and anger.
I’m worried about Puck. I know enough of our future that I’m confident of this family coming together.
What I am concerned about are the tribulations we will have to go through to get us there.
How much damage will be done? What resentments will form?
In what way will that change our future?
And will it put us on one of the more turbulent paths?
There’s a shift. It’s faint at first, but becomes stronger with every passing moment. It’s almost like vibrations in the ether that make my body pulse. It feels like there’s this singing, vibrating thread stretching from me to something else.
Gracie.
I’d smile if I wasn’t vaguely aware of her heavy emotions. No doubt, the work of my brother.
What the fuck, Puck?
The door creaks open and shut.
My smile widens, and I can’t fight the happy feeling winding through me that she’s here. That, out of all the men clamoring for her attention, she sought me out.
She’s quiet for a moment while I listen to the air move around her.
How her presence changes the sound and aura of the room.
Something about this space projects a person’s vibe.
I can feel my mellow, happy state of mind clash against her moodier one like opposing waves, causing our vibes to melt into one another.
I can help her by being present. By being happier than she is… Whatever state she is in .
“Darius?” she whispers.
I push up, eyes shut, looking through Isa at her hovering by the door. “That’s me.”
“Am I interrupting?”
“No.” I tilt my head to the side. I can’t see my own future.
Which means that moments between her and me will always be an unknown.
It’s exciting, and a little scary, not to not know what’s going to happen.
“I think… I was waiting for you. Come to me, darling. Tell me what my idiot brother has said now.”
She blows out a breath and begins padding toward me. Her lips are pulled up into a smile, but her eyes—even in the low light—are sad. “Were you really waiting for me?”
“I think I was.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s… A feeling. It’s like water held in a reserve. It’s waiting. And then the floodgates open.”
She comes to a stop next to the ottoman. “Comfy?”
I rub the back of my neck, where it’s begun to sweat from Isa’s fur. “I was, but now I’m not.”
She chuckles and grasps my wrist, tugging at me. “I get that way sometimes. My clothes will be all wrong. My hair will hurt. Nothing is right.”
I awkwardly lumber to my feet and let her lead me to the low cushions lining the wall, sort of like a sectional. They’re wider, almost bed-like and filled with mounds of fluffy pillows.
“This is your divination room?” I ask. She gives me a nudge, and I sit down, legs stretched in front of me, and sink back into the pillows. It’s quite nice.
She glances around before sitting in the crook of my arm and leaning against me. It’s entirely unexpected, yet I like the way she’s tucked in beside me. Like I’m the one sheltering her. It’s a new feeling I want to savor.
“It’s mostly Poppy and Briella’s space,” she says, unaware of my thoughts. “Though they don’t use it a lot. Neither of them are super inclined in that direction. I think it’s more of a religious observation thing.”
“And you don’t share that with them?”
“Eh.” She shrugs. “Dad is very spiritually open, but doesn’t really follow any one path.
I think I was introduced to the witch-stuff too late for me to be super observant.
Plus, the idea that we’re all just paying the price for something someone did wrong ages and ages ago?
And we have no idea what it was or how to make it right? That’s some bullshit.”
“The witch gods are fascinating. But I get what you’re saying. How was it? Coming into that sort of a belief so much later than everyone else?”
“Fucking nuts. I felt like everyone was in this weird cult except me. I told Dad about it, but my ex-stepmonster had already started to get her hooks in him, so he was very, try it out and give them a chance.”
I groan and tuck her a little closer to my side. “Puck was insufferable during those years. He would rant and threaten to kill her.”
“Would have made my life better,” she mutters.
“He’d do it if you asked.”
She huffs some and seems to consider it. “No. It would make Briella sad. And her family is already so drama-full.”
“Really?”
“Gods. I haven’t had an update on the latest what-the-fuckery in like two weeks.
I’m kind of scared to ask. She’s cut them off for the most part, except for some cousins, nieces, and nephews who seek her out to get away from the crazy.
I kind of wonder if some of them will join us in the future, but I didn’t say that. ”
“Got it.” I chuckle. “Sorry, not that Briella’s family doesn’t sound fascinating, but I’m dying to know more about your view of the witch beliefs. I have so many questions.”
She leans closer and whispers, “It sounds like complete bullshit to me. Someone, once, long ago, did something bad, and now the rest of us have to make up for it so we can have our fully functioning magic back. Like… Please make this make some sort of sense. What happened? Who was really responsible? Why aren’t we allowed to know the history?
How far can we trust what we do know? Why am I being punished?
And is any sort of reparations really worth it?
Or are we deluding ourselves into some sort of fantasy about a higher state of being we could possibly achieve if we just…
Witch a little more? And then the worst question of all.
What if this is all some huge pyramid scheme on the cosmic level or something? ”
I can’t help but chuckle. It’s the witchweed. “Tell me more. How do you really feel?”
She rolls her eyes and tucks her hand between my chest and her cheek. “Yeah, well… I keep my opinions to myself. Briella and Poppy were raised on this stuff, and I try to not offend them with my lack of belief. What about you? Are you observant?”
I hum and tilt my head. “Our beliefs and yours are vastly different. It’s wild to me that witches and humans believe in gods you can’t… Go talk to. Or see. Or question.”
“Really.”
“Yes. Wait, has Puck never talked about this?”
“No. And we aren’t taught much about you in school, either. I mean, the fae. Not you specifically.”
I snicker. I can’t help it. The witchweed has gotten to me.
“I would be shocked if there was a chapter about me.” We chuckle for a moment, and I’m grateful for the levity.
“Well. For starters, fae don’t have intangible gods the way you think of them.
They aren’t some imaginary sky daddy or mummy.
Ours are very much real. Alive. Most of them come and go, inheriting or earning their divinity through assassination, great deeds, trials, or intense learning.
There are some that have lasted longer than others, but those are rare. And old. And very scary.”
“Wait, you mean anyone could become a fae god if they’re powerful enough? Is that what you’re saying?”
Oh. Oh, she doesn’t… Well. This is going to be interesting…
Really should have seen this coming. And I might have, had I not taken that last hit before we came home.
I roll my lips between my teeth and bite down.
“Yes,” I finally say.
“Why did you say it all weird like that?”
“Because I just realized how little you understand about our beliefs. I just thought… Well, I assumed you knew something… Gracie, are you aware that the leaders of the Seelie and Unseelie Courts were regarded as gods in their time?”