Godspeed [cw]

“Yea, no.” Out of the corner of his eye, Reuben quickly noticed how his hand had gone through the wall of the house and just hastily pulled it out again, shaking it vigorously as if he could simply shake off the spell he accidently had either forgotten to de-spell or activated. It did also seem to work, luckily. “I had Crone scout out the area around here and.. no demons in sight. Saga’s warding must’ve done the trick.” As if its name being said out loud had been a cue of some sort an animalistic figure appeared jumping and landing on the roof where the two men stood before swinging itself with long slender arms down from the edge and onto the ground. A full-grown grey mangabey monkey, sized slightly larger than the average for the species. Perfectly explainable since Crone wasn’t an actual mangabey monkey. Just like Circe wasn’t an actual cat. Or crow. Or ferret. Crone was Reuben Rhyss’ trusted familiar; a usually formless celestial being having taken the form of one of the known animals on Earth after having been summoned. After what looked like a greeting from the monkey to the angel, it slouched over to sit squatted next to their witch. But not before handing him something which he only glances at shortly and then buried in his short pockets and looked to Michael rather nonchalantly.

He felt a prick in his temples by the first yapping comment and the frustrated expression only deepened as he scrunched his brows closer together. “Of course I want to see her. She’s my only daughter,” he snapped back. He couldn’t help it. And he wasn’t lying. Nothing he didn’t wish more than to see his daughter but things were too complicated for that. A heavy sigh then sounded from his throat and he moved a hand up to his face, pushing the pressure points on either side of his nose bridge between his eyes to reveal some of the tension that pulled signs of a headache.
She was there to look for him. Of course she was. It just wasn’t the right time! Not yet! “That explains things. I saw her first at La Boca del Caballo few days ago but she was there alone which I couldn’t help but find strange. Her search has always remained… what’s the word: passive up until now.” He moved his hand away from his face again, lowering his arm calmly, compared to the emotional stimulation he could feel out to his fingertips. Saga might have gotten his looks but their personalities weren’t quite the same. “She wouldn’t have come on her own. Not when she wouldn’t be completely sure she’d get to me.” So that left the possibility of outside convincing. Hence; Michael Sanctius. “How much has she told you?” She must’ve told him at least something since he was being accused of ‘avoiding her for all these years’. Back in Paris he hadn’t disclosed any of this other than mentioning he had a daughter. The stuff any proud father would do if hit with the right timing. And that had been what? 40 years ago now? ..time sure flew by.

Another yap made impact but this time it only seemed to make him scuff partially amused. “What father would I be if not to constantly be worried?” he asked but then clearing his throat and shallowing the half-hearted smile to return to the seriousness of the situation. Half a year ago? Reuben nodded in acceptance. He didn’t disapprove of Michael as a person but he was the last person he’d expected Saga to mingle with, if he had to be honest. Only now knowing it was reality, could he see what would’ve pulled them together. Michael was a business man after warrior and Saga had made a name for herself in the time he had been gone…
“Doesn’t matter anyway but colour me surprised. That’s all,” he lastly gave in - not fully, though. With time, with time. “I’m more concerned with why you two have demons on your asses. This wouldn’t have anything to do with Lorenzo Zamora, would it?” He eyed Michael with a similar intensity. He already knew most of the answer but he still wanted the confirmation. The older witch had been tailing them, after all. If not, how would he have tracked them to the house when other’s hadn’t been able to.

There was possibly some truth to Michael’s worries regarding Saga. Being asleep she was, fortunately, in a state more or less free from experiencing the pains and arches, but she had gotten gradually more and more fever-heigh as the night had moved along. And it would be easily believed, that that last warding spell would have some worsening effect on her, however it would be quite hard to say for sure with everything. What mattered a little more?..
____

.. Of course, she had noticed it. There wasn’t one thing that girl didn’t seem to notice. Nothing went her eye by. It was one thing to hide and erase his tracks for someone tracking him from a distance, like Saga had done up until know. It was a bit more of a struggle when she was where he was. Not impossible, in any way, but definitely different. Reuben sighed again by this, thinking that there really hadn’t been much he could’ve done to prevent that. “Sometimes I wish she wasn’t so attentive.. Anyway it doesn’t matter much if she saw it.“ Luckily the spell had worked perfectly as intended, because the male witch had been in there. He had seen her walk in. He remembered how, while she didn’t look much different from what he remembered, he could still tell that she had grown a lot in the span of those seventy-seven years. But she hadn’t been able to see him – thanks to the spell. Now knowing this, he suspected she also knew he had been there and yet still left the place. What plans could she have had brewed having decided not to pushed through further then? Even as her father, he wouldn’t be able to tell. Her mother would have a better chance but Hyacinth Rhyss wasn’t there.

A sprinkle of surprise passed by his face as the angel showed confusion as to just how he knew about the demon at hand, and Reuben had been about to give a curl in his brow to exaggerate how he didn’t exactly understand this reaction. But maybe that wasn’t the best idea while in the company of a growlingly aggerated man. “Lorezo is a pretty well-known guy in these parts of Havana. Especially since building that ghastly cassino, which you’re familiar with. He’s not the biggest shot but if you stayed in Cuba you’d come to know that he’s a name and face you ought to know,“ he revealed, smoothing out his expression in the process and rolled his shoulders.
“I’ve been dealing with him too, while being here. You think the cloaking spell at the bar was for Saga alone? How would I even know she’d be there?” He looked at Michael with a raised eyebrow and paused for a second, although he didn’t wait for an actual reply back before continuing to explain: “Demons here have a tendency to get petty when you don’t agree to give them a helping hand in whatever scheme they’ve going on. I declined and now they’re trying their hardest to make my own goal difficult to reach. Well.. emphasis on 'trying'.” Reuben Rhyss couldn’t hold back smirk when adding on that last bit. It hadn’t been all that difficult to get his stuff done. Manoeuvring demons – or anyone for that matter – was his specialty after all. And damn, if he wasn’t proud of it!

But then the impatience, which Reuben had sensed in the air, came bursting out. He didn’t like the sound of demons being on his daughter’s ass only because of Michael and a part of him had to hold back on demanding this – whatever it was – to stop. He just couldn’t… When thinking rationally, who was he to tell Saga what to do? Or so help me.. “I’m here to help!“ he very abruptly blurted out just as the archangel had had time to finish that last sentence, not wanting that to even be an option to begin with! Voice kept down still. “I’m here to help in any way I can,” he repeated, calmer and less rushed. He looked to his side, down to the mangabey before turning around and then gliding over to lean his back against the outer wall of the house – this time not passing through it. He sighed, slouching a bit and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re here because of Lorenzo. I wouldn’t mind not being harassed by his men. So here we are.”
Instead of looking back at Michael, though, Reuben twisted his neck to look over his shoulder, towards the nearest window inside. From his angle he could see exactly nothing but it was more the for the gesture. “And I wanted to see if she was alright. I was tailing the two of you -” Lightly! Nothing in depth. “- and I saw the state of the warehouse. What happened inside?” He had to ask, glancing at the younger-looking man. His insight-knowledge was limited, that much was true. He had yet to know the severity of Saga’s current condition.

Reuben let out a sound sounding neither quite like a chuckle nor a scuff, though it pulled in the corners of his mouth just the same. “Appreciate it. If they weren’t such persistent miststücks I’d believe you that this would be the end of it. But you know the type, I’m sure.” But a handful days without having to be on his toes or possibly distracted from his personal Cuba antennary wasn’t half bad. Not bad at all, so he did truthfully appreciate the little kafuffle Michael had created. One could hope that he had even hid the nest hence making it give them a longer rest from having demons on their asses. Michael, apparently always having them biting his buttocks, must find such a time especially relieving. That was, if the man knew how to relax. The witch barely knew the guy, having really only stumbles by him once before now, but the tense air around him kind of gave it away, that he might not even have been giving the ability to relax. Ever. Not even in times of undeniable peace. For a moment, Reuben observed the angel a little bit closer. Was this what had pulled his daughter towards him, perhaps?
He quickly broke off his train of thought to come back to the more pressing matter at hand. Just how much did he know about the things going on? “I’ll have to disappoint you a bit, but I don’t have any juicy insider information. What I do know is that whatever they’re doing, it took up extra speed in the late spring of last year. I wasn’t here then yet but get the right locals talking and you start seeing breadcrumbs. As far as I could stitch together, it was a hurried speed until the success spike of Marbella in early September.” Around the same time that the tourist deaths on the island had also gradually begun to increased. Before then there had been strange behaviour from the Cuban less fortunate – those people didn’t much care about – however as it was everywhere in the world; those news had always just been brushed aside. “Thing is, they don’t actually seem to be operating out of Havana. It’s really only shipments happening here. And, I’d say, distraction.” He looked to his familiar, who looked back at the same time. They held a saying eye contact for a bit – similarly to Saga and Circe sometimes did – and then the mangabey grabbed a miscellaneous twig from the ground and started drawing in the dirt where grass wasn’t growing. “You want to go to the Pinar Del Rio province,” Reuben then said while the outline of Cuba was drawn and then circled the area smack in the middle between the north-western tip of the island and where Havana was. “North from the city of Pinar Del Rio, that’s where there have been a lot of bustling along with a lot of effort in staying out of sight. I haven’t had any business in the area, so I can’t say that much more than that.”
Information hadn’t exactly been what he had been prepared to help out with. Sure, he had some but not actually being involved with any of it, he hadn’t bothered as much with it. There were other things that were more important than some demons scurrying around in the tropical heat.

And he hadn’t been prepared for the bad news that came afterwards either. Not in the slightest. She’s not. Hearing those words, Reuben felt a sudden and sharp spike of fury inside of him. His body jolted vaguely and pushed himself away from the lean, tensed up underneath the loose-fitted clothes and his eyes widened substantially before he even turned his head away from Crone’s stick-illustrations. “What?!” he angrily yelled out, his voice having turned brooding, for a moment forgetting not to be too loud. His dark features made the anger stand out in his face, even more so in his eyes that was now looking at Michael. But the anger wasn’t pointed at the angel. Not all of it, at least. A twinkle of it lingered on him. For bringing his daughter into situation where she would get this hurt.
He whipped his head back towards the house and then whipped it right back. His eyes lowered for a second and one could see how the initial anger faded down to frustration to immense worry and then finally he could collect himself. Somewhat. His little moon was hurt. Badly, it sounded like. Possession wasn’t something to take lightly. She won’t leave the country before she meets you. Frustratedly, he bit down on his teeth. “I can’t believe she… I’m here because of Saga,” he admitted, his voice now calmed down. Or not calmed down; he was clearly holding back a lot of that frustration since he knew well enough that it helped no one if it let it take over. He moved a hand to rub his neck, glancing to his familiar as if to look for guidance. “Saga isn’t her own. When she was just a small child her mother and I did something. She was showing signs of a large capability for magic, more than the average pureblood, even before her magic fully manifested and there were talk off The First Witch looking for witches to.. drain. So we did what any parent would do and got some of her magic depot stored away!” Reuben hadn’t talk about this for a very long time and saying it out loud, he had to remind himself that yes! he had done the right thing! Despite the stabbing regret he was dealing with now.. “We didn’t know at the time, because we were desperate and just took the help we could get. She’s our only child. We couldn’t risk losing her. But the price.” That damn price!! “I’m can’t face her or let her know until I’ve fixed this. She’ll have to return without seeing me. Without knowing. It’s for the best.“ By the time he was done talking, he had actually calmed down properly. Not surprisingly. It had been bottled up for quite a while. And the underlying pressure from Michael hadn’t helped.

What was the price? The price was without a doubt the worst part of it all and also the part in which Reuben felt the most shameful of. Many times before, he had questioned his own right to be a father and the privilege of his daughter’s unconditional love. “It’s her.” There was an attempt to not let the huge amount of regret fill his voice when he revealed the answer but it wasn’t any easy task. There was a reason why he didn’t disclose this information to anyone. Slightly deflated, the witch lowered his head before picking it back up with a heavier inhale. Unlike his daughter, emotions weren’t as veiled on his face and especially not in his eyes that almost seemed a tiny bit clearer. Although, they didn’t look directly at Michael at the time. ”He wanted her in some way. He didn’t explain any further and the worst of it? We agreed to it, thinking we could break of the deal easily afterwards when she was safe,” he explained, sensing the heavy boulder on his shoulders even more so now than usual. “At first, we thought he might be her future mate. You see, he was a siphoner. There had been theories about how it all worked in their regards and already then, he was a powerful one so perhaps he knew something about what was to come. But when the time came it wasn’t his name that presented itself on her.”
Next to them, Crone, the monkey, had thrown the stick away again and walked on long legs to instead sit down by his witch’s side. The familiar’s demeanour wasn’t exactly worrisome but rather supportive. It didn’t grab its witch’s hand or anything. Just sat there. Only looked up shortly and then turned its almost humanlike eyes to the angel instead. Occasionally looking to the side, out over the vacant landscape that surrounded the farmhouse. It was dark. But it would still be considered a bright night. “What happened instead, was that she began experiencing what we witches call ‘renewals’; where ones mate dies prematurely and is replaced by a new. It’s nothing new but for Saga it was frequent. It’s painful and as a father I hated to see it. So after the third time, that was where I.. well.. left. In hopes of doing something about it.” There wasn’t any real evidence pointing to it having anything to do with anything but ever since he’d set out for a way to fix things, Saga hadn’t had to endure that agony again. Could it really just be a coincidence?
Reuben looked to Michael at last, already expecting a stone-cold judgement, so even if he’d been correct, he didn’t falter. “I’m telling you all this with full trust that you won’t be re-telling it to Saga. Maybe you think me a bad father for keeping something like this from her but it’s for her own good. There’s no telling what she’ll do if she found out that she’s not her own.” If Michael had been around Saga for long enough, Reuben was sure, the angel would’ve caught on to her strong demands of independence. She wasn’t shy about talking about her opinions about the mate mark for any who made the mistake of starting that conversation with her. “When it’s fixed, she’ll know.”

Despite the very heavy topic, a smile still pulled though onto Reuben’s lips when Michael stated that, surely Saga would understand. However, the smile wasn’t genuine. It was the kind of smile that occurred in an obscure disbelieving humour. “It would seem that you and Saga have gotten quite close for you to say that so confidently,huh,” he pointed out while crossing his arms. Since august, huh? It was surprising actually. That these two of all people, would’ve crossed paths and then stayed on it. It was an odd pairing.

Reuben didn’t seek forgiveness. How could what had been done be forgiven? No. All he really had pleaded for was more time. The addition of understanding was simply another benefit that helped calm his regret. It would never be calmed completely and if anything, it was part of his own personal punishment but… a sliver of it had been affected. Even more so when those four words finally sounded from Michael. I won’t tell her. The burden on his shoulder’s were lifted but the relief made him able to breathe again and somehow he felt as if he could just collapse to the ground in gratefulness. Of course, he didn’t. The closest he got was the way his shoulders sank and his neck for a moment relaxed, bringing back the natural slouch to the man’s posture. How he had won the heart of someone like Hyacinth Krauss was unclear. Mate or not. “Thank you,” he uttered. “I knew I could entrust this to you. You are a good man, Michael.” He really was. He was now and he had been back in the days.

Oh? Now what was this? This change in the air. Even averting to call him ‘Mr’ to now use ‘Sir’. The praising words did also give a warm, prideful feeling to the witch although the urge of an extra firm handshake also peeped through in him. The smile already there only grew, however. So at least someone had realized the wonders of his perfect daughter. For that, his protectiveness was overruled by delight.

A light chuckle was given to the departing phrase in all it’s irony. Not that Reuben meant any disrespect, just found the slight humour in it. As an unholy being he didn’t despise the holy ones – clearly! Saga’s neutrality was her own, yes, but it had also something to do with the environment she’d grown up in. “Du aurch.” He then did the act after Michael, nodding his head a wordless farewell before staying to watch the archangel walk away and around the house. Out of sight the visible smile faded and a deep breath re-established new tension in his body as doubt crept forward. Doubt if there was an end to what he was doing. Or if there was another way.

Inside the dark living room, the little female witch was still fast asleep. Unaware. She hadn’t moved around much, stilling laying facing the back of the couch and arms tugged tightly and nicely in between the couch and her chest. The blanked pulled halfway up her shoulders, providing her with more comfort than actual warmth. Because she already experienced plenty of warmth with the risen fever. Her cheeks were very red and her breathing, while delicate as when one slept, it was also heavier and at times; irregular. Her skin was starting to get covered by a faint sheen of a cold sweat. But at least she was sleeping, resting properly.
She was the only one not awake, though, as the movement of him sitting down near her, had two pointy, black ears perk up followed by a head. The kitten hadn’t moved either since having snuggled up to the witch until now where it rose enough to get yellow eyes look at the figure of the angel, tilting its head as if it recognized the concern in his eyes even in the very dim lighting. But then another sound had it suddenly turn its head and looked to the front door instead. Reuben entered carefully; hands already raised for good measure in case Michael hadn’t sensed him. One tackle should be enough for a night. And when met with no tackle he moved one of his hands to his lips and holding an index finger across them. “Before I go.. You said she was hurt?” Michael didn’t need to answer, because as soon as his eyes turned to the figure in the couch, he knew it to be true. The red sigil by her shoulder was staring right at him like a bloody eye. And the white hair was like a beacon from how moonlight shun in and reflected into it. He gulped. He quickly moved closer, making the kitten stand up and put its front paw on her arm as if either protecting her or greeting him. The sight of the kitten actually brought another smile to his face. “Hallo. Hatten Sie das Gefühl, dass sie etwas Nähe brauchte, hm?” Gently, he reached a hand to the kitten, let it sniff his hand and then when allowed he stroked the black fur. Circe wasn’t there. It was concerning in itself.

His eyes then glided from the kitten to his daughters sleeping face. How much had she potentially grown since he’d been away? If anyone knew how she hid behind content if was him, having witnessed it since she was little. But instead of reaching forward to stroke her face as well, he squatted down to be in proper hight for the injury before turning to look to Michael. “You didn’t say she’d strained herself this much,” he pointed out, trying not to sound like he was blaming him, but it had made his chest squeeze. It didn’t look like much. It was just pigment lost. Still, it didn’t just happen by casting one too many spells. He looked away again, lifting a hand to hover above the gash. “Healing is usually my wife’s expertise, you know.” A faint dark grey light started emitting from the parts where skin had been broken and as it did, it almost looked like organic matter started to grow with high speed. Layer from layer, closing up the wound until there only was flawless pale skin left to see when he lowered his hand again. “But at least I can do as much.” Saga had silently groaned and pulled a pained expression in her sleep but as soon as it was done, she’d calmed down again. Still not waking up, surprisingly.

“… I can take her home for you. She won’t be the least pleased with waking up and finding her choice being made for her but that is what you want, isn’t it? To get her home.”

“Very well.” With a little magic, bringing Saga back home wouldn’t be a problem at all. It wouldn’t even delay his other inquiries even if that was an actual concern of his. The only possible problem, that could happen would be for him to not want to leave her side in the end. He nodded and then pressed his lips together as he looked down from Michael while turning his head to Saga and looking back up at her. She’d want to stay. Finish whatever the two of the had started. But sometimes, one wouldn’t get what one wished for. Not even her. Not when she was in no proper state to make sure of it, like she was now. It was such a shame, albeit the parent was known to know best. He pushed himself up from his squat to accept the firm handshake as well as the thanks, and Reuben tried figuring out just what thoughts were running through the ancient angel’s head at that time. Because there hadn’t been much hesitation from his side. He’d taken the offer almost as soon as it had been given to him. Just how deep ran that worry for the little witch? Reuben nodded again as a reply and had he decided to say anything, it wouldn’t have had a chance to reach the receiver before the house suddenly stood empty of Heavenly grace impersonated. As if angel song was always faintly audible when Michael was in the room, the house felt quieter in that moment. No more innately sensation of attentions demands. It was strange to an extent.

An even deeper sigh than the many times before pushed forth from Reuben’s chest as he stood close to the couch, looking down at the sleeping figure of his daughter. The kitten looked curiously back at him as it didn’t know what was going to happen. How it was essentially going to be to its own devices once more. Although it must have felt something along those lines, because the moment he reached down to place two fingers on Saga’s forehead to ensure she’d stay asleep, it spiked its back slightly and laid its ears flat down. One would think it was trying to warn a predator to stay away but it was also too young to fully be able to. Reuben just smiled at his and silently apologies to the kitten for having to take his daughter with him, especially as it already seemed to have imprinted.
The shuffled movement of him getting his arms gently under Saga and getting her moved around to lay probably in his arms was enough to make the kitten jump off itself and looked confused from the floor. She was as light as he remembered. No matter how much she grew or how much she changed, she’d still fit perfectly right there in his arm. As perfectly has she’d done the day she’d been born. “Lass uns dich nach Hause bringen,” he mumbled, clearly feeling the fever heath from her body through his clothes.

Circe had greeted him upon his arrival. Stunned, probably. Expecting to see Reuben Rhyss in person as much as their witch would be. And the greeting wasn’t much of a greeting as after recognising him they became distant. If an animal could glare disapprovingly, they had mastered it. However, the white familiar didn’t interfere as Saga was brought up the stairs and finally laid down in her bed. The sun was slowly rising in Oakheart but in collaboration with the sleeping spell put on her, she didn’t so much as stir yet and the male witch’s focus pulled toward the white crow, that had landed on the bedside table, looking at its witch in the bed, at the state of her and made the coward wait to have those golden eyes turn towards him. Reuben didn’t say anything only put his finger to his lips once again. Don’t say anything..



Nearly 19 hours passed without Saga waking up as her body needed the intense rest. Not only due to the recent strain but she hadn’t let it rest like this for a long time before now. She was met by the darkness of a wintery night when her eyes finally opened, first slightly blurry until they cleared up. It was funny, really, because a part of her wasn’t actually surprised to see what she saw: The all too familiar surroundings of her own room nor the feeling of home. Her brows still furrowed in disbelieving confusion, though, while her mind adjusted properly and confirmed that this indeed wasn’t the living room of the farmhouse in Cuba. She slowly pushed herself up in her arms, immediately feeling the dizziness and nausea of the fever still in her as well as the dehydration. But it was bearable. She’d been sick like this before. She scouted her room just as four white paws jumped and landed in mattress in front of her, hoarding her immediate attention and meowed purringly. A relieved welcome home. She then sat up properly to run a hand through the perfect long fur. She always felt more comfortable like this. Close to Circe and ..home. But she was left with a heavy feeling in her chest.
Michael wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Or felt. He’d brought her home, against her will. Against her personal choice. He must’ve. Waiting for her to fall asleep. She felt betrayed. She couldn’t help it. Her pride was hurt. She slowly pulled up her legs as she sat there, eventually wrapping her arms around them and curving her back. On the outside she didn’t seem emotional at all. Melancholic and veiled. On the inside was it was a different story of things she tried to either suppress or explain off. She’d tried making it clear that she wasn’t lying when saying she was fine and yet… How was it so difficult for people to believe?!

There was then also another thing that bothered her and she raised her head to look out in the room again. How had Michael managed to get inside?...

// out