#august005

AUGUST:

Imbolc. A sacred festival, one of eight observed throughout the year. He could still remember the feasts aunt Lisa would prepare, though they paled in comparison to what the Daughters of Kastamere and Trillium were putting on now. He rolled his eyes as the witches of the town attempted to observe omens, prepared tradtional foods, and for once, included the rest of the town in their celebrations. 

He grabbed a drink, and sat bitterly far and away, but close enough still so that he could witness the Dark Baptism of Trillium’s latest initiates. Fools. He thought bitterly before he saw a familiar face. He was eager to exercise some of his newfound muscles, some of the switches that had been triggered and spilled by blood and ceremony. Aria ~ August called out as he sought the others mind. He was a little drunk at this point, he’d been at least a little drunk since the festival had started.

ARIA:

Aria did not attend most of the festivities. She knew she had to make it to at least one or two of the Imbolc events. But otherwise she kept herself as far away from where her mother would be as possible and compensated for what she missed with a chug of bourbon. By the middle of the night, Aria had chugged a lot of bourbon. 

She was restless, wanting nothing more than to leave or find August and yell at him for not answering her texts the other day. So far he was alluding her in the crowds of Trillium witches. Eventually, however, she winced as the sound of a familiar voice popped into her head. It wasn’t Stevros. 

She recognized it to be August immediately as it spoke. She turned around, scanning the crowd for him. “August?” Aria scoffed, grinning despite herself as she kept searching. “Holy shit... You went through all the Ceremonialist trials, didn’t you? Where are you?” 

AUGUST:

He smiled as the words were all but dredged against the lining of his skull, it was definitely something that would take some getting used to, but, from where August sat he folded his hands still before him and concentrated on the sound of Aria's voice in his mind. He whispered the spell to carry his thoughts telepathically back to her, "Over here, on the bleachers," August unfolded his hands to gesture and wave towards where his perceptions were telling him Aria's magic was being directed from. 

August's fingers wrapped themselves together again as he confirmed what she'd gotten so right. "Yeah, its been a busy week. And the exhaustion afterwards nearly killed me, you wanna go some place and get drunk and talk about it? This party blows."

ARIA:

Aria looked over the crowd, barely making out what she thought was August. But then he waved and she smiled, pushing through and ignoring a group of teenage witches that had begun whispering and look in her direction as she rushed through the crowd. 

Aria was silent until she got to the bottom of the bleachers and looked up at him, shaking her head. “There you are. Finally. I haven’t seen you since the coffee cake.” She climbed up the bleachers over to where he was and sat down beside him. “Congratulations,” she muttered quietly, finally speaking out loud. A subtle smirk curled her lips. “What what have you been doing? Too busy to keep me updated and worrying?”

AUGUST:

He smiled with familiarly and affection at the mention of the coffee cake, he should have asked her to bring him some as well. That was his excuse for going silent, but part of him wanted to tell her more, wanted to talk about what he had accomplished, what he had been through. As a witch, he kept his secrets closely guarded, but there was power in community, and though they were already part of the same coven, August couldn't help but feel that when it came to Aria, they were a coven in of themselves.

A family they had chosen, not one that had simply been forced upon them.

They were a comfortable distance from any prying ears, but even if someone was listening, August would not have been bothered by what they would hear. He took a drink, the liquid courage spurned his tongue forward. "Thanks," he said easily, the truth was he was still recovering. "There was some exhaustion, and knowledge I hadn't been expecting, I think I'm still processing." August said, it was the truth for once. "But now I'm walking the same path as my Mother, she died here, you know?" August had never told Aria about his family, they had never had that sort of relationship. "That was only after her Coven framed my Father for her murder, however. She had been excommunicated, but still they punished her, and him." and me went unspoken. "I felt her watching me though, as I ascended." He stared at his hand a moment, a distant and foreign thing. All it was was flesh and blood mottled with will and bone. "It's strange, but I think she is proud of me. What was it like for you?"

ARIA:

Aria listened, realizing the drink in his hand probably had something to do with the readily given openness. She just hadn’t been expected anything about his family. For all they’d been through together, family was not a topic either one of them ever broached to one another. She gave him her full attention, frowning as the information was processed. Aria had had no idea.

“Ah,” she breathed out, inhaling deeply and glancing away at the question. “It wasn’t like that.” Aria grimaced and shook her head, looking over again. “My mom’s still alive but I was disowned from my family years ago. I have no idea who my father is… and honestly, my uncle was the only one in my family who gave a damn. I’m not sure what he’d think of me doing all this and I never saw him again after his funeral. For me this whole thing was more gradual over time. I studied his Book of Ceremonies for years at the same time that I was finishing traditional magic and college on top of that.”

“The last trial is a full and successful ritual but I didn’t go the… traditional route with that one.” A quite glance around made it clear they were out of ear shot of anyone for the time being. Her voice was quiet nonetheless. “My first was a blood magic ritual and… a long story. I was so preoccupied and exhausted, I didn’t really notice anything. I just did it and then I blacked out.” She huffed in light amusement and looked down her hands. “This was such a long time coming, I haven’t really registered how much time and effort it took yet. The day before that I didn’t even notice I was starting to build some telepathy.”

She looked over at August, brows furrowing thoughtfully. “So… that’s all you’ve been up to? And you did this because of your mom?” 

AUGUST:

August contemplated her words, it sounded nice, but familiar. His education into the dark hadn't come from his family, at least not at first, that had to be outsourced which had led to a whole fresh array of problems ~ which he ultimately resolved through the last trial. He wasn't sure what Aria's take on it would be, but while they were sharing, August was willing to afford her some honesty. 

"I think we both took a non-traditional approach," he grinned, though the memory still made him - sad - and - angry- and there was grief somewhere in there aswell, but it was easier just to focus on what he'd obtained through the ritual: freedom, power, knowledge, to name a few. "I probably mentioned this but I was raised by my Aunt, she'd been entrusted with my Mother's Book of Ceremonies. I begged her to let me have it, but the writings were labeled as forbidden by our Coven's Patriarch, so I was denied." August's expression grew sour as he spoke, the memory wasn't a fond one. "I found a witch who was able to break the seals that would allow me to enter her vault, but the job came with a price. In the end I was bound to him, and he instructed me as a master would their acolyte." Aria did not need to hear the rest.

"I'd gotten the news that he was in Ashbourne just before the Sarau, I had someone track him down, kidnap him, and then I broke the binding that kept me tethered to him through blood magic." August still remembered how the blood had rained upon him, he looked at Aria, perhaps a little less heavy. There were flashes of what had come after, where his bloodied and bare feet had taken him but his memory of that night was a fog.  "Do you know if there are more, you know, like us?"

ARIA:

Aria returned the grin, surprised to find that she was no longer annoyed about the fact they were both doing such similar things. At the beginning, it made her feel like he was someone that might get in her way. Someone who was her rival. At this point, that feeling had turned into something different. She wanted him to succeed and she wanted to do it with him.

Brows furrowed as he explained about his mother’s book. She listened intently and curiously. None of that story with some master and paying a price sounded good at all. Aria was tempted to demand for the entire story so she could beat some heads if need be. But she knew better than to push immediately.

So she continued to listen instead, fingers outlining the rim of her bourbon bottle absently. His question caught her off guard and Aria looked away to think about it for a moment. “No… As far as I know,” she said, looking back at him. “Not counting whatever the witches in the Coven of Leaves do, we’re probably the only ones in Trillium and Kastamere combined.” She offered him a small smile at that.

The smile faded after a second heartbeat of thought. “Are you alright? I mean… It doesn’t sound like you had an easy time at all getting all of the figured out. I had no idea.” Her lips pursed and Aria inhaled as she considered whether or not to ask. Then she did, wondering how many more chances would she have to get to know August this way. “Your aunt isn’t around anymore, is she?” 

AUGUST:

"What do you know about the Coven of Leaves?" August asked, from what he'd gathered since he had come to town, even the identities of their members were a secret, but Aria might have more insight than he. She'd been born in this town whereas he had only recently gone from outsider looking in to fully realized member of society. "I have only heard about them, I've never actually met any one of them." 

He was surprised to hear that of the two Covens, Aria and August were likely alone in their pursuits, but natural magic was too mundane and boring. August couldn't stand it, though, he suspected if the traditionalists from the other covens even attempted what the two were doing, they'd die quickly.  He took another drink, it burned, and he was glad for it.

August smiled, easily. "You make me out to be some easily-breakable thing." He paused, "I have done a lot of terrible things, and I'd do even more if it meant getting what I want. Isaac taught me a lot, and so did my aunt, but in the end they were both my jailors. I would not be here today if either of them were still alive."

"It seems both of our families were foolish." August breezed, Aria's mother was blind if she couldn't see the talent behind her daughter, just as his aunt Lisa had been blind. 

ARIA:

Aria huffed, making a face. “I only know one of them.” She shook her head, making it pretty clear it wasn’t a great relationship. “She was a friend of my uncle’s.” There was still a scar in the back of her neck from fighting that godforsaken witch in the forest for the damn knife.

Aria had ceased being interested in the Coven of Leaves a long time ago. While they were more liberal and open-minded with their magic the way she liked it, she could tell they would do much more to control her. Aria didn’t like the idea of being stuck in that when she was so fiercely independent.

She kept her eyes on August, calm but reading. Aria had never been under the illusion that her fellow witch was a good person. In fact, Aria was beginning to think she was incapable of keeping relationships with good people long if they didn’t include Willow. But she never knew August’s full story and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t intrigue her. She could only imagine the kind of things he’d done. It wasn’t hard to guess it involved a lot of death.

“I don’t think you’re easily breakable, I think you’re reckless. And I tend to be pessimistic.” She said, a small grin curling her lips. 

 “They really were… I kinda wish I’d known your family. Your mother seems like she was an interesting woman. Did you have anyone else after your aunt?” Her brows furrowed. “What about your father?”

AUGUST:

Aria’s tone and face indicated that the witch she was referring to wasn’t one that aria had a pleasant relationship with. Absently August wondered what the nature of the relationship was between Aria’s uncle and this mysterious member of the Coven of Leaves. “And your uncle? I take it he wasn’t a member?”

He hadn’t thought much of his father in years, Henryk had stirred up some of those memories but he couldn’t betray the confidence of that deal. Particularly when August had no idea whether or not Aria even know Henryk, or if she knew he was a gun for hire. One that August had turned to twice so far.

“Well, then you’re right about me.” He smiled, easily. August didn’t know when it became easier to talk to Aria, but there was something tying them together. He just hoped it wasn’t a noose.

“I...would have liked to know them too.” August breezed, his eyes maybe a bit more distant. “I was four when my mom got pulled through to here and my dad got charged with her murder. I never saw either of them after that, and I think I idealize what memories I have of them.” He smiled, easier now. “I never met the rest of the Knight Coven, but I think you would have liked my aunt. I used to think she was a heartless shrew, but she was a bit of a rebel herself. Still a shrew, but.” August laughed.

ARIA:

“No. He might have been... but he was too focused on his mission. He went mad, honestly. Trying to bring back his dead fiancé and finding out who killed him... if not killing every single vampire in town.” Aria raised her brows as if the whole thing was ridiculous but at the time, she’d done all she could to help him. Lot of good that had done, obviously. She took another swig of her bourbon, drowning away sarcastic, dark thoughts with the burn in her throat.

Aria loved stories more than anything, it was what got her interested in becoming powerful at such a young age - stories of people and the world outside. She wanted to be powerful enough to go. Eventually, that led to many other goals but that had been her very first. She always had a way of listening and trying to live through any story anyone ever told her and the same was true for August’s experience. She tried to picture it all and sympathize. She was very attentive.

“A shrew?” She laughed with August, easier now with a bit of bourbon in her system. “Well as long as I’m a rebel and not a shrew... After all, we’ve both had to deal with you,” Aria teased, grinning. “... So I guess you got no other family in town. Better than what I have anyway. My mother’s still around but she’s a world class bitch and I haven’t spoken to her in years.” Aria rolled her eyes and took another sip of her quickly dwindling drink. 

AUGUST:

“He lost someone?” August asked, curious. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” How did he not know that Aria has a queer uncle whose love died tragically enough that it inspired an obsession with bringing back the dead. One that reaped it’s way through the lives of vampires in town. What drive. What motivation. He hoped that her uncle and the man he loved were together, in the end. “What happened to your uncle?”

August smiled easily, he had never wondered what it might be like to have siblings. He was an only child, and in his loneliness August had found the truth of his nature. But if he’d had to guess, the young witch would probably say it felt something like this: hazy, warm, and safe. There was no second thought that maybe he’d say too much, or she’d come to use it against him somehow. There was just Aria, and there was August, and despite having spent so much time competing with her - it was as if he was finally seeing her. 

“She was also brilliant,” like you went unsaid because August was not nearly that drunk. “Yeah, big none over here but I don’t know. Family is what you make of it right? If she doesn’t see you, for you, then you’re better off.” August shrugged, “But uh, I should probably tell you, I told the Regent about what happened at the faerielands. That the Queen took you hostage so that she could send me after her artifact. I told him she heard about my skill with conjuration and... I don’t think he bought it. But I think Nymphadora is planning something, and I don’t want Trillium to be unprepared just because I hate most of them.” 

ARIA:

“Well, he never got to do any of it. Necromancy is dangerous… a spell backfired.” At least that’s what it had looked like. Part of Aria couldn’t believe he’d ever be that stupid but what did she know? She’d been so young and he was desperate. Her mother refused to show her the autopsy or even to talk about her own twin brother.

It felt good to open up a little to someone. It felt natural with August… like he could be counted on. And when Aria looked back on how much she’d always wanted to surpass him, she realized a lot of it was being afraid his magic might somehow overwhelm her. He was so damn similar after all and as sketchy as they came. He’d risked her exposure to the coven more than anyone.

But at this point it was clear their secrets were safe with each other. She felt more safe with him than with most people. August seemed just as likely to use his magic against her as she would with him. 

“Whaaat?” Aria whined, surprised such an annoying childish sound came out of her. But she’d been drinking a lot, after all. “No… Fuck. August!” She sighed deeply. “I don’t want to talk to Olivier… Dammit.” She inhaled deeply, running a hand through the top of her head through her hair. But August made a good point. And she trusted if something seemed wrong, there was probably a fair reason why. Shitty as her coven was, if they went down - she went down.

“Forget it. Fine. You’re right.” Aria sighed, reluctantly relenting to the fact she’d need to talk with the one guy she tried to avoid just as much as her own mother. “… What did he say?”

AUGUST:

His brow furrowed slightly, his features more grave. Maybe they had more in common than August had realized. “My aunt was a warden against such things, she cared for the dead of our coven and saw to it that the spirits of the witches who passed carried on without interruption. Such was her exile when I was sent to be raised by her.” Magic such as necromancy was too dangerous to talk about, particularly at Imbolc.

“I know, neither did I but it’s better to get out ahead of it anyways. He’d already caught word somehow that we were both in the faerielands, and there was a dark artifact involved.” August had done his best to placate the Regent, and secure himself further within the Coven. Power was the cornerstone to their survival, and Trillium’s resources ran deep. August had been too content for too long, he saw that now. He dreamt of a coven where people like him and Aria could serve their coven openly, without fear of their powers being made a thing of recoil. They were witches, and this was Ashbourne, they should be feared.

“I think he bought it, he’s concerned that we might be in danger, and he’s not wrong. We should keep this between us, if we can. He suggested I stay with a friend and put the wards up, at least until all this blows over. I suspect he’ll tell you to do the same, he intends on handling this, quietly, if he can.”

ARIA:

in wonder at both the fact August’s aunt was involved in such things as well and in the fact it was just something else they had in common. As he finished speaking, she glanced around subtly, only relaxing when it seemed no one had come to sit near there.

As August got her up to date on what the Regent knew, her expression was a moody, childish pout thanks to the bourbon. Her brows were knit together in distaste. There was no restrained her physical reactions at the moment. 

“I never got to ask you about that chalice. I kinda wanted to put the whole thing behind me-” She said, looking back at August with less of the impetuous expression. “I’m still having a hard time believing I was sitting in a fae cell for so long...” She muttered. It had felt like barely a day to her. But even so. “So, honestly, I couldn’t care less what that bitch wanted but that was dumb. Obviously this is important if Olivier is getting involved.” 

 Aria sighed. “What dark artifact did you end up getting for her? What does it do?”

AUGUST:

August rubbed the back of his head, contemplative. How should he put it? The experience, in the end, had been entirely unsettling and even now he could not stand to even think of the screaming. August sighed, the young witch wasn't one who got shaken easily - except perhaps when it suited him. He went to take another drink. Empty. He was drunk anyways and feeling oddly bitter, but resolute in the unwinding of so many burdens.

His brow knitted together as he recalled the artifact as he had learned of it, "It's the Holy Grail, that thing that's said to grant immortality to a mortal. And through a ritual, it could do just that. But the end result was horrifying, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I don't know what the Queen intends with it, but I'm glad it is behind me." August said gravely, though he was wholly serious. "We should rejoin the others - what do you say?" 

ARIA:

Aria’s eyes widened at the explanation. Here she was assuming it was some of nature artifact of relative importance - at least t the fae. No, this was far different and far more disastrous. It had been a ridiculously stupid decision on her part to try to put it all behind her when clearly the queen was after something like the damn Holy Grail.

She squinted at him as he finished and offering going back to the crowd. She had no desire to. In fact, she had a million other questions but Aria began to realize then that this was a better job for her internet and books. Plus, she could always text him. Aria looked out into the people below the bleachers that had stopped milling around and were now heading towards the next event.