Jeanne

The Umbra Witches were an order with a long and storied history. Many years ago, they had enjoyed an alliance with their Light-born counterparts, the Lumen Sages. They had exchanged knowledge and defended each other, but had been forbidden from consorting with each other. These directives had come from the Shadowbinder and the Lightweaver themselves.

But the alliance had shattered when Stefan, a Sage, and Charlotte, a Witch, had fallen in love. Stefan had been banished, Charlotte imprisoned by the Witches, and both orders had declared war against each other. Their battles had ranged across Sornieth, with the Sages ultimately being wiped out.

The Witches’ victory had rung hollow, though. During the war, many lives had been lost in the crossfire, and the other gods had been incensed by this. The Witches soon found themselves beset by the exalted forces of other Flights.

“Once, we were revered,” Jeanne thought heavily as she struggled through the dusty gray dawn. It was bitterly cold, but that would soon change; they were in Dragonhome, and the heat would be merciless once the sun was up. They needed to find shelter—or more precisely, a place to hide.

“Once, there were hundreds of us. We had outposts, even fortresses, all over Sornieth. And the greatest of these was the Clock Tower...”

Those outposts were now gone. Even the mighty Clock Tower had fallen. Jeanne remembered that day well: The leader of the Umbra Witches, Bellatrix, had chosen her as a successor, and they’d reached the day when leadership was to be passed on to Jeanne.

As part of the ceremony, Jeanne had the right to challenge another Witch to single combat. She’d chosen Charlotte: Imprisoned though she was, the Nocturne had retained much of her power—including, Jeanne suspected, some tricks learned from the Lumen Sages. She was a traitor, and Jeanne had judged that keeping her imprisoned would be risky.

And so, Charlotte had been brought up from her cell to face the Ridgeback. They’d stood across from each other, weapons and magic at the ready...

And then the exalts had arrived.

Jeanne scrambled up a rock ridge. She reached down to help her fellow Witches. One of these, a Nocturne, accepted her outstretched paw with a tired but grateful smile. “Thank you, my sister.”

Jeanne nodded back. “You are welcome, Charlotte.”

~ ~ ~
The exalts had ultimately been repulsed—thanks not just to the Witches, but also to Charlotte. Despite having been imprisoned by her own order, Charlotte had fought alongside them, and Jeanne and Bellatrix had to concede that she’d helped a great deal in that battle.

It was another pyrrhic victory for them, however. Many Witches had been slain, and the Clock Tower had been destroyed. Bellatrix tasked Jeanne with safeguarding many of their forces and treasured relics, and the Umbra Witches splintered into small groups, hoping to find refuge or allies in other Flights.

In the past, Jeanne would have spurned outside help, but now the Witches needed all the aid they could get. Charlotte had been welcomed back into the fold; the Nocturne, for her part, had been willing to let bygones be bygones. Despite having been an outcast for many years, she was still a Witch, and the exalted forces would have slain her as quickly as they would have her other comrades.

There was one other noteworthy ally on the team. Unlike Charlotte, she had joined under duress: Himiko, a Lumen Sage, adopted daughter of the Lumen Elder. Captured by Bellatrix, and bound with many enchantments to serve the Witches.

The best way Jeanne could describe her relationship with Himiko was “civil”. The Ridgeback reflected, with some regret, that she had not always treated her allies well. As a younger dragoness, she had been quick to anger and to judge. Now, however, she understood that her companions deserved more respect than she’d previously shown them.

She’d sent Himiko to make sure they weren’t being followed. Her keen eyes now spied the Pearlcatcher flitting among the rocks. She drew herself up, preparing some compliments—words of encouragement went a long way.

But then she saw Himiko’s expression, and the words died in her throat. Instead, what she whispered was, “Are they near?”

“Not them. Him.” Himiko’s golden eyes were dark with dread. “It’s Sephiroth. He’s on our trail.”

~ ~ ~
Those dark days, when the exalted forces endeavored to exterminate the Witches, were known as the Witch Hunts. Not all those who pursued the Umbra Witches were exalted dragons, however. Some were professional bounty hunters.

Sephiroth was one of these. A pale, forbidding Imperial, he had learned much of the Witches’ ways—to counter their magic, to entrap and then slay them. The Umbra Witches had learned to fear him.

Jeanne had encountered Sephiroth a few times before, and she remembered that he had once been accompanied by other hunters. Over the years, the group’s numbers had dwindled....

And then a few weeks ago, they’d learned a likely reason why: Sephiroth, already so vicious and ruthless, had been corrupted by the Shade.

Had his comrades fled from him? Had he killed them?

Jeanne examined her own group. Aside from herself, Charlotte, and Himiko, there were eight subordinate Witches. They all looked tired, but were bearing up well.

“We’ll keep going, then take flight at nightfall. We might lose him in the dark.”

“But Jeanne,” one of the Witches protested, “soon it will be—”

“Yes. I haven’t forgotten,” Jeanne snapped.

She took a deep breath and then said, more gently, “Some of our brothers and sisters have already found refuge here in Dragonhome. You must rally them, and find us again.”

They kept moving—enough to stay ahead of Sephiroth, but not so strenuously that they lost all their strength. If Jeanne was correct, they would need it soon.

Despite what she’d said, she knew it was impossible to lose Sephiroth in the dark. In fact, now that he’d been Shade-corrupted, the dark would enhance his abilities. He would keep tracking them. And eventually, he would catch them.

“There’s only one way this can end,” Jeanne thought, and looking at Charlotte’s and Himiko’s grim faces, they knew it too. “He can’t be allowed to live, or he’ll kill others, spread the Shade’s influence. He must be put down—for good.”

The darkness deepened. One by one, the subordinate Witches took flight into the night. Jeanne, Charlotte, and Himiko continued mostly on foot, leaving a more distinct trail for Sephiroth to follow.

“We’re going to take on this hunter, are we?” Himiko asked. She flashed a cheeky grin, but her eyes were cold and determined. Jeanne nodded resolutely back.

Charlotte was more subdued. “But Jeanne, tomorrow is...We could be at a tremendous disadvantage.”

“I know. But if we keep running throughout the next day, we’ll exhaust ourselves for certain. At least if we confront him at daybreak, we’ll have a better chance—especially if reinforcements arrive.”

Himiko’s eyes widened. “The Day of Night...It’s tomorrow! I’d completely forgotten...”

Jeanne tried to recall what she’d studied of the Coming of the Day of Night. It was a rare astronomical event: Half of the sun would blaze bright, and the other would be in darkness.

The Umbra Witches drew much of their strength from shadows, and the astral influence of the Day of Night would weaken them. Jeanne hoped, though, that it would also weaken Sephiroth. “We’ll find out soon enough,” she thought grimly.

They struggled on, sleeping in brief increments, planning and strategizing while awake. Time trickled past....

Jeanne slowly reawakened, looked wearily at Charlotte. Himiko, who had kept watch, was perched on a rock crag above them. Her eyes were fixed on a distant shape on the horizon.

That intense darkness was unmistakable: Sephiroth was still on their trail. To their left, the sun was rising. Still a brilliant, perfect sphere...but for how long?

“Witches.” The voice wasn’t very loud, but it whispered right next to their ears. Jeanne, Charlotte, and Himiko all shuddered as they heard it.

“I thought there would be more of you. Ah...only three left?”

They suppressed groans of horror as Sephiroth glided closer. He wasn’t flying—his wings hung limp next to his sides. But wisps of dark vapor wafted around him, bearing him forward. Worst of all, though, were his eyes—they were almost completely black, except for pale pinpricks in the center. They gleamed coldly, like distant candle flames.

“I might say the same to you,” Himiko snapped. “Misplaced your friends?”

One ear twitched slightly, the faintest flicker of annoyance. “They were unnecessary.”

“Hah! You’ll soon realize how wrong you are. You can’t take us on—”

The Imperial exploded into a roar of ballistic fury. As the Witches watched in horror, black vapor oozed from his eyes. It spilled in tendrils towards the ground, coiling and snapping like centipedes.

“They were weak!” bellowed Sephiroth. “I made them rue the moment they all turned their backs on me—”

There were flickers of motion on the horizon: other Witches, rallied by the messengers, were arriving. “But will it be enough to stop him here? It has to be,” Jeanne thought.

The Witches descended upon Sephiroth. They struck with magic from many different elements. There were so many of them; surely a lone Imperial wouldn’t last long against them....

But the Shade proved to be much stronger, and Sephiroth fought on. A hundred wounds covered his body, yet he did not bleed. Instead, ugly black vapor flowed from his injuries. It snaked through the air, looking for more dragons to consume. It was a deadly distraction: Many Witches paused to dispel these vapors—only for Sephiroth to destroy them.

Still, they kept fighting. Even if they escaped, the beast would track all of them down. Better to die fighting than skulking in a hovel somewhere....

And then, just when the sun was nearly at its peak— “Jeanne! The sun is...”

It was darkening. Only half of it...but as the terrible vision solidified in the sky above them, the Witches felt much of their strength drain away.

Sephiroth, however, seemed unaffected. Guttural syllables erupted from his throat as he cast a binding spell. Suddenly the Witches found themselves rooted to the ground by chains of pale light. They struggled desperately as the slavering Imperial approached, preceded by waves of Shade magic.

Just then, however, there was a brilliant blast, a wave of force. Jeanne felt the bonds around her limbs weaken. She glanced up in awe.

The attack had come from Himiko. The Pearlcatcher was hovering before Sephiroth—and as the others watched, waves of light washed over her. Brilliant pinions sprouted from her wings; the very air around her shone.

Not Shadow magic...Light magic. Sage magic!

“He’s turning into an Emperor,” Himiko growled. “The Shade has almost completely consumed him. We can’t hope to defeat him once he’s in that state! Even Jubileus—”

“We still have a chance,” Jeanne snarled back. She heaved herself upwards, and the chains snapped.

“Charlotte, to me!”

The Nocturne flew towards Jeanne. At another shout from the Ridgeback, she cast a binding spell of her own. Vines of shadow erupted from the ground, tethering Sephiroth in place. Yet the Shade tendrils continued pooling around him. His body contorted unnaturally, the bones snapping as his transformation into an Emperor continued.

Jeanne forced herself to focus on the hellish sight. She was casting another spell: not one of binding, but of purgation. If she did it right, then Sephiroth, the most fearsome Witch Hunter, would be destroyed.

“Witches, to me!” She silently called on the power of the Witches gathered around her, and all those who had gone before. Witches past and present, and all the magic they’d ever had...

She felt it flowing through her. Her limbs trembled as she fought to contain it. The world seemed to recede, a dark tunnel forming around her. But at its end, gleaming with unholy light, remained her target: the doomed Witch Hunter.

Jeanne spoke the final word—and blackness rolled over the Shattered Plain. It briefly eclipsed the sun, and it bore down upon Sephiroth. It poured into his Shade-cursed body. And rapidly, it consumed him.

The implosion was one of darkness so searing that all who saw it were briefly blinded. Jeanne was knocked backwards; she heard the other Witches crying out in surprise.

But Sephiroth was silent. “Is he...?” Jeanne slowly opened her eyes.

Relief washed over her, and she let out a triumphant roar, one echoed by Himiko, Charlotte, and all her other allies. The Shade fragment that had overtaken Sephiroth had been extinguished, and Sephiroth, at last, was no more.

~ ~ ~
It was a grand victory for the Umbra Witches. Sephiroth had slaughtered hundreds of them, but now they were free of him. In that triumphant moment, it seemed they could take on anything and win....

“Must our victories always be so short-lived?” Jeanne thought bleakly to herself. “Must we taste triumph, only to be trodden into the dirt again?”

It was months after Sephiroth had been slain. There had been no time to celebrate; the Witches had had to disperse again lest they all be attacked by exalts. Jeanne, Himiko, and Charlotte had parted ways.

Jeanne could only hope that they had found refuge—and that she would soon, too.

She peered through the trees of Wispwillow Grove. There was movement in the distance: the Witch Hunters were still on her trail. She knew the best recourse was to run...but she had been running for so long. She’d gotten into a brief skirmish with them earlier, and untreated wounds still burned against her hide. She remembered how they’d laughed when she’d fled, and anger flared within her—

“No, child. Not here.”

It took Jeanne a moment to recognize the voice. She hadn’t heard it for some time.

“Shadowbinder?!” Jeanne’s eyes filled with tears. Not just with shock, but with rage.

“How dare you come to me now! After all that’s—”

“They mustn’t be allowed to catch you,” the goddess calmly stated, though there was now an edge to her voice. Jeanne forced her temper back down.

“Come to the Forum of the Obscured Crescent. There you will find the refuge you seek.”

As quietly as she could, Jeanne moved through the Tangled Wood. Much had changed since her last visit here, but the goddess guided her, whispering in her ear.

The Forum was empty of other dragons. But in the center was a stone sarcophagus, large enough for Jeanne. The Ridgeback slumped into it gratefully. Her body relaxed...

Her mind remained ablaze with anger, though. “Why did you abandon us? We scoured Sornieth for aid; so many of us died. Why did you leave us?”

“Leave you? Jeanne, I fought alongside you. The exalted forces arrayed against you—who do you think sent them?

“The other gods?”

The Shadowbinder’s voice was cold and calm: “And who do you think held back the other gods, preventing them from crushing you completely? We Eleven have strictures we must adhere to. The Lightweaver and I did all we could to hold back their magic. But those same strictures prevented us from eliminating your exalted pursuers.”

“They’re still out there.” Jeanne gnashed her teeth. “They’ve killed others! I’ll make them pay—”

“The forces arrayed against us are overwhelming. Better to sleep, to await a more favorable time. A time to arise, to rebuild anew...”

Jeanne was by now too tired to argue. She allowed herself to fall into slumber. The Witch Hunters eventually came through the Forum, but by then the Shadowbinder had hidden the sarcophagus away. As Jeanne slept, her wounds healed. The vigor and the magic she had expended slowly returned to her.

“Sleep, my daughter. Sleep, and heal...”

And she did.

~ ~ ~
Centuries passed. With many of the Witches dead or missing, the Witch Hunts ceased. The Lumen Sages and Umbra Witches were all but forgotten, dismissed largely as legends.

And then, one day, the legends reawakened....

The Shadowbinder whispered to Jeanne again, drawing her out of slumber. She slid the sarcophagus lid aside. It fell to the floor with a mighty crash, but she scarcely heard it. She was instead staring in surprise at the dark Gaoler waiting nearby: the Umbra Elder, Bellatrix.

“You’re alive! But I thought...you...”

Bellatrix laughed, shook her head. “I don’t die so easily, Jeanne. The Shadowbinder had plans for me, too.” She nodded towards the Mirror standing beside her. “This is Empress Mirage of the Sectonian Empire. The goddesses have charged her with providing us with a home.”

Jeanne inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of the new world. Bellatrix, looking at her with pride, continued, “I chose you to succeed me, and my decision still stands. You must learn how things have changed in the intervening years, of course. But I don’t doubt you’ll manage it.”

Jeanne grinned back, a flash of her old self-confidence returning. “Where to, then? The Forum?”

“No. We will proceed to the Sectonian Empire, in the Hidden Valley. It is in the Sunbeam Ruins.”

“The way ahead may seem daunting, but fear not. You will have allies and companions to aid you.”

It was Empress Mirage who said those words. Jeanne inclined her head respectfully to the Mirror. “We are in your debt, Empress. Who are these companions?”

“There are other Witches, of course. And your ancient allies, the Lumen Sages.”

Jeanne stared at her in disbelief—but it was joyous disbelief, and she grinned again, in delight this time. She was too relieved to notice Bellatrix’s expression briefly slip, the smile fade ever so slightly.

“A time to rest, a time to rebuild. We will rise again!”

~ written by Disillusionist (254672)
all edits by other users