Chapter Text
“Father! Jack’s hurt bad!” Anne called out in panic as she burst through the family’s front door, her little brother dangling from her shoulder, barely conscious and bleeding profusely. She had been sent out to find out why her brother hadn’t come back from his friend’s house by curfew only to find him lying in a pool of his own blood on the sidewalk. The only word she’d been able to get out of him was ‘wolf’, something she prayed to Lumos was delirium or a simple misunderstanding. If he had been attacked by a werewolf he’d be killed, assuming he survived his injuries.
“What the fuck happened?!” Their father yelled angrily as he caught sight of his oldest son slumped around his sister, half of his body coated in blood.
“I don’t know! I just found him like this,” Anne cried, voice beginning to hurt from all the crying she’d done since finding Jack, “Dad, what should we do?” She didn’t normally turn to him for comfort or even instruction (when it came to the latter he’d give it freely himself) but this was an emergency.
However despite the fact his son was actively bleeding out on the tile of their home’s entryway, their father still managed to be more concerned for himself than his children. “Shut the door and get him off the tile, it’ll stain.” he demanded, Anne moved quickly but as she headed toward the living room to lay him down on a couch he was even faster to react, “What the in the eternal void do you think you’re doing you dumb bitch! The carpet will stain worse than the tile! Take him to the mudroom and away from anything that could stain! What would the neighbors think if they visited and found our floors looking like a slaughterhouse!”
Despite her fury at her father’s disregard for his own son’s life she followed his orders as quickly as she could, even as she heard their other siblings working up the courage to investigate the commotion. Thankfully, the mudroom was a pretty straight shot from the front door, so she didn’t have to waste too much more time on getting her brother to where he could be treated.
His breathing was shallow but labored, and was accompanied by a horrific rasping that terrified Anne to her core, although she was largely just grateful he was still breathing at all. She gently set him in a sitting position before grabbing her cloak and hood from the hook on the wall and spreading them on the ground to create a space to lay him down for treatment. She knew her father would never permit him to go to a hospital. It would be too much of a spectacle. A death could at least be twisted to work in his favor. How dare that monster care more about his tiles than his son’s life. Her brother was hanging onto life by a thread and she could hear him tell the rest of the family that Jack had ‘decided to risk the family’s reputation’. She felt herself begin to shake as she wadded up one of Jack’s extra cloaks to cushion his head.
She continued to curse her father as she maneuvered her brother as gently as possible onto her makeshift medical bed. At 13 Jack was hardly full grown but he was still big for his age, whereas Anne was as small and mousey as their mother, so despite being four years older she still struggled to move him as smoothly as would be ideal. Despite this the moment he was situated she worked on removing what was left of his cloak and hood so she could assess the actual damage.
What she found made her sick to her stomach. The left half of his face was barely recognizable. It was a bit hard to tell with all of the thick, dark blood coating it, but she could tell it was swollen to twice its normal size in parts and had pieces of flesh that looked as though they had been nearly detached. His torso wasn’t much better. His shirt, much like the cloak he had been wearing, had been torn to shreds. He had a couple pretty deep slashes in his torso, but the more worrying issue was his left arm. Like his face it was hardly recognizable, more closely resembling a scrap cut of meat a butcher threw to his dog.
And Lumos please let that be what happened. Let this be a dog attack. Some rogue poorly trained pet got spooked by a stranger too close to its property so it lashed out at her baby brother. Not a wolf like Jack had muttered before losing consciousness. Anything but a wolf.
She was just about to go run to get a clean cloth and a bowl of warm water when she nearly walked right into two of her other siblings, Debby and Johnny, just outside of the doorway. Both of them looked absolutely terrified, their eyes wide and wet, the bottom of their slippers pink from following the trail of blood from the front door to here.
“Is he ok?” Johnny asked, barely above a whisper making it obvious he already knew the answer.
“I wanna see him!” Debby cried and tried to go around Anne and into the room. Anne knew she couldn’t let their little siblings see him like this. But she could use their help…
“Debby, you can’t see him right now, but he does need your help. Go get a big bowl of warm water and a clean cloth. Johnny, can you go get me the first aid kit and my sewing basket please? Go as quickly as you can, ok,” she instructed as calmly as she could before returning to Jack’s side as both ran off. The bleeding had slowed but he was also looking a lot paler and his breathing was even worse. She fought the cold feeling in her stomach that fact gave her and instead ran to grab her emergency supplies.
Lumos forgive her, but after it became clear that their father wasn’t going to give them access to proper healthcare in most situations, she decided to research some ways she could treat herself and her siblings at home and unfortunately the most effective and reliable method, after some practice, was with some magic. And so under the floorboards of her bedroom was a box of books and a little basket containing medicinal herbs and other spell ingredients. She just prayed that she could get to it without any interruptions and before Johnny and Debby finished their tasks.
Unfortunately for her Daphne was already there, her books and basket of supplies next to her on Anne’s bed. “What happened?” Daphne demanded coldly.
“Daphe, we don’t have time for this. Jack was mauled by something, he’s lost a lot of blood, this is an emergency,” Anne explained, going to grab her supplies.
Daphne grabbed them before she could reach them and gave her older sister a pointed look, “What attacked him?”
Anne was starting to panic, “I don’t know! What I do know is that Jack will die if I don’t treat him now. Do you want that?”
Daphne glared but handed off the basket and gestured to the box of books so Anne could select the correct one. “Of course not. But it might not matter if it-” Anne cut her off before she could finish.
“Jack is not dying anytime soon. I won’t allow it.” she stated, turning to run back to make good on that statement.
Daphne followed, and soon all but Jack and their youngest sibling were gathered just outside of the mudroom. Anne took and sat down all of the supplies before dismissing her younger siblings. Debby and Johnny reluctantly shuffled off after a few short lived protests, but Daphne stuck around, watching as Anne began gently wiping the blood away from their brother’s mangled form with the warm water.
“Anne…”
Anne stayed focused on her task, brow pinched and frown deepening by the second.
“Anne,” Daphne pressed.
“If you want to stay then hand me the anti-septic.”
Daphne did as she was told, opening the first aid kit and digging out the bottle of antiseptic before handing it off all without Anne even looking up from the disfigured form of their barely breathing brother.
In all honesty the more blood she wiped away from his form the worst he looked. It became more apparent how extreme the mauling was. Clearly whatever this was that attacked him wanted him dead. The left of his face resembled ground beef more than a teenage boy, and it would be a miracle if he maintained sight in his eye. That is…
“Anne… You realize there’s a good chance that he won’t survive. Right? You have to be prepared for that.”
Anne whipped her head up to look at her sister, “He’s surviving! How can you talk about one of our baby brothers dying that casually!” She hissed, before quickly returning to her task of cleaning the wounds on his face.
“I don’t like it either!” Daphne spat back, “I’m just trying to be realistic and I think you should too. Besides, Dad mentioned something about it being a werew-” Once again Anne cut her off.
“It’s not. It was a dog, I’m sure.” She hated how little Jack flinched as she covered his deep wounds in the antiseptic. She sighed as she worked and continued, “And even if it was a werewolf I’m not letting anything happen to him.”
“You know Dad will report him. It's worse to harbour a monster than it is to have a family member be attacked. Besides, if it was a werewolf, isn’t it better to let him die with dignity than to leave him to become a monster? It’s not your fault if you can’t save him.” Daphne spoke softly, almost mournfully, as though Jack had already passed a while ago and Anne was still deep in denial, which pissed Anne off enough to take her attention off their brother for a moment. “I love him too. I also don’t want anything bad to happen to him… but something has happened. I don’t want him or you to suffer. Denial won’t do anyone any good.”
“So what? I should just let him bleed out here on the mudroom floor? I should just pray that Lumos shows him mercy while I do nothing myself? Tell me, what the fuck do you want me to do?” Anne snapped as she went to grab her sewing kit and started sanitizing her needle. This wasn’t the first time she had to give makeshift stitches, but she was still nervous about trying to stitch up wounds this severe, and on a face no less.
Thankfully for Anne, Daphne stayed quiet so she could focus on patching him up. She unfortunately had nothing to numb him but in all honesty, the fact that he flinched as she sewed up the larger gashes was a comfort.
Daphne waited until Anne was done stitching and bandaging their brother’s face and was starting on his torso and arms before she continued. “Anne… Its not that I think trying to help Jack out is a bad thing. He deserves to be cared for. I just-” she sighed, “I just want you to be ok if he isn’t. I don’t need you ending up like Mom.”
Anne scoffed as she cleaned the wounds on his chest, “I won’t. I can’t do that to you guys.” she paused, taking notice of how bloodstained she herself had become since starting to tend to her brother, “If something did happen to me, be it shutting off like mom or getting seriously injured… or dying, would you protect them from Dad?”
“There’s nothing to protect them from. Dad’s trying his best, you guys just make life hard for him. For us all. I don’t know why you’re so convinced he’s a monster.” She replied defensively.
Anne grit her teeth but continued dutifully with her task at hand, “Daphne, you realize that when I carried Jack in tonight he was more concerned with Jack’s blood staining the floor than he was about his son bleeding out in the first place, right?”
Daphne huffed, “And you know how this neighborhood is. Rumors spread fast and carry a lot of weight. What if someone accuses Dad of murder and calls the police on us. We can’t afford that and you know it! His reputation would be ruined and then we’d lose all our money. Besides, if the police actually search the house they could find your little magic kit and have you arrested for crimes against the state and place our whole family under observation! He was just thinking about the greater good of our family. Why can’t you see that?”
“Because I value our injured brother over a hypothetical doomsday.” Anne spat, wringing the blood soaked cloth in her hands like she wished she could ring their father’s neck. “Besides, there are ways around rumors and legal trouble, there’s no replacing a family member’s life.”
“You scare me sometimes, Anne. You’re gonna get yourself killed one day. Either that or you’ll run off to that demon worshipping cult in the south.”
“Obedience isn’t the cooling shadow you think it is. In this situation it's more of a crushing void.”
“And I think you’re guided by a false light.” Daphne warned. Silence stretched for a long moment before she added, “Have you seen any signs of a curse yet?”
“Not yet, thank The Light.” she replied. She was starting to convince herself that it truly was just a dog attack.
Though her hope was short lived as she continued to clean his mangled arm. As she gently wiped away the blood from a mostly intact stretch of skin she saw it. A jagged, torn bite mark… surrounded by blisters and necrotizing flesh. A sure sign that the bite was infused with a curse. A sure sign that it was a werewolf and that Jack was infected. Anne felt sick to her stomach.
Werewolfism was a brutal condition with no cure. It was also a death sentence in Cothelo, Naporia especially. A single rogue wolf could, well, do what was done to Jack or worse to dozens of people in a night. Since there was no medical treatment and those infected lost their humanity and were classified as faey after their first transformation in the eyes of Lumos and the Law, the only ‘ethical’ solution was to euthanize them before they transformed so they can die as dignified, respected members of the community and Communion, instead of inhuman beasts.
Anne didn’t buy any of that. Surely Lumos wouldn’t disgrace an innocent victim for being the target of a fairy’s magic! Besides, there was treatment. A tincture called Wolfsbane (named after its key ingredient) could keep the infected from turning violent, it was only rejected because it used magic. No, there wasn’t any reason to kill her brother for something out of his control. And she would ensure he survived to live a long and happy life after this.
She quickly went back to cleaning and patching him up, praying Daphne didn’t notice the curse bite. She didn’t seem to, thankfully, and instead just stood in the corner, seemingly deep in thought as Anne worked.
Twenty minutes later Jack was as patched back together as she could get him. He was still deathly pale, some of his bandages already starting to bloom red and pink. His breathing had evened out but was still much shallower than it should be. But that’s why she brought her ‘stash’ as Daphne put it. As she began setting up to do what she needed to, Daphne scowled.
“I feel dirty just being in the same room as you do that.”
“You can always leave.” Anne replied, reading over the first spell.
Daphne rolled her eyes, “I hate the path you’re on. Not you. Not Jack. I want to make sure you’re both ok. Besides, Dad asked me to watch you. If I don’t, he will, and as much as I hate the magic… I understand that it’s important, and it’s strictly medical. Dad would probably be overly cautious and make you throw it all out.”
Anne gave a small smile despite herself, “Thanks.”
The first spell was relatively simple; just a few herbs crushed in a mortar then burned. The ashes were then mixed with a small amount of charged water and applied in a specific sigil directly on the skin. It helped support the clotting of blood and the closure of open wounds. Anne had worked this spell before for smaller injuries and it always worked wonders so her hopes were high for it now.
The second spell was more complicated. It was a potion intended to be poured down the throat of someone on the brink of death from blood loss. It was the first spell Anne had ever attempted that came with a warning about Mana drain, but desperate times…
Anne was grateful it was designed to be used on battlefields, so it had few, easily accessible ingredients and it didn’t take long to prepare. But then it came time to add the final ingredient and activate it.
“Daphne. Please don’t freak out about what I’m about to do. I’m scared of this too and I’ll ask for forgiveness later, but I don’t need you losing it at me too, ok?” Anne asked as she stared at the jar she was making the potion in.
Daphne looked horrified but nodded.
With that Anne wiped her hands off and grabbed a clean needle from her sewing kit, then stuck her finger. Once her blood was beading up from the prick, she added two drops into the mixture. The second it hit the rest of the liquid the concoction started to change from a murky brown green to an even and crystal clear golden brown the same shade as whisky. Only one more step, and it was one she admittedly felt weird doing. An old god prayer. It felt wrong reaching out to entities she didn’t trust, didn’t view as gods… but she couldn’t let Jack die here… especially if they would have to figure out what to do concerning his new condition.
And so she took a deep shuddering breath and began, “May this elixir restore my brother to health. May Aer continue to breathe into his lungs. May Aquas replenish his internal waters that have been spilt. May Igna repair the spark of life she gifted to him at his birth. And may Terra help remold his flesh she carved for him. May Pietas help heal his spirits and Ferox harden him for future battles. May Suscipio give him the wisdom to keep himself safe and Constantia the knowledge to defend himself and his own. With the gods' blessing, he will be cared for.” To her and Daphne’s shock, the concoction once again changed, this time picking up more of a golden hue and beginning to gain a shimmering, swirling pattern. Anne hesitated slightly, double checking the instructions, before gently pouring it into Jack’s mouth. He was thankfully conscious enough to swallow it, though Anne was still terrified he was going to choke.
After the elixir was gone Anne sat back and waited for any sign of improvement, suddenly feeling very tired. And she felt like she was starting to get a headache too… Must have just been the adrenaline finally dissipating.
“What now?” Daphne asked, stepping closer.
“We wait. Even magic is rarely instantaneous.” She explained, she was definitely getting a headache…
Anne watched through a haze of exhaustion and mounting pain as the color slowly returned to Jack’s form. Though she felt weaker by the second and her muscles screamed in protest at the slightest movement she forced herself to clean up the evidence of what she just did. Anne’s movement seemed to snap Daphne out of her own daze and she began copying her sister, gathering up the blood soaked cloths Anne had discarded during Jack’s treatment. The whole downstairs had been mopped and both sisters bathed by the time Jack was finally groaning himself awake as Anne and Daphne both worked to transfer him from the mudroom floor to his own bed.
“What happened?” He asked, speech slurred from having half of his face in stitches. He winced at the feeling of his bandaged injuries tugging in protest to his movements.
“We aren’t sure.” Anne lied, “We think you were attacked by a dog. I found you barely conscious and bloody by the sidewalk halfway from Chris’ house. You must have passed out sometime between there and here because you were unconscious by the time I started to patch you up.”
Jack processed this with a pinched expression before slowly nodding. He then looked up sheepishly and asked, “Daphne, can you make me something to eat? If it’s not too much trouble?”
Daphne blinked at the request but nodded, “Yeah! Sure. Of course,” she assured before reluctantly leaving the room.
As soon as the door clicked into place, Jack’s bedroom seemed just as small and cramped as the mudroom. In truth, the room was quite spacious. As the eldest son their parents had given Jack the second largest bedroom in the house and their father’s disdain for what he considered ‘frivolous’ spending meant that other than his bed, bedside table, and desk there wasn’t much in the room. But that didn’t matter as both siblings sat in suffocating silence. Where the tension between her and Daphne had felt like the cold eternity of space, Anne now felt as though she was trapped in a much too small cage. One she couldn’t leave until Jack knew the truth.
“It wasn’t a dog,” Jack confessed, breaking the tension and releasing Anne from that responsibility. His breathing was nearly as shallow and quick when she was cleaning his wounds, “I saw it before it attacked and it was definitely a Wolf. I-”
“I know.” Anne interrupted, putting a hand on his uninjured shoulder “I saw the curse mark. It’ll be ok.”
Jack’s eyes started to well, “How can you say that? I’m infected!” his voice broke in a sob, “Anne, I’m really scared. I don’t want to die.”
“You won’t,” Anne stated. It wasn’t a platitude, or an assurance, it was a statement of fact. “Jack, look at me, I’m not going to let you die.”
Jack turned his head the best he could to meet her gaze with his eye not covered in gauze, even through the haze of his tears, “How?” was all he could bring himself to ask.
Anne broke eye contact for a moment to think. “No one else knows yet, and first and foremost, you need to heal.” She met his gaze again, “We have a month to figure it out. So we will. I promise,” she forced herself to smile. Jack hesitated but returned her smile before snuggling into his pillows as much as possible.
There were times when Anne resented having to be the primary caregiver for her younger siblings, but she still took her duty extremely seriously. Seeing Jack looking so small and vulnerable, bandaged and swallowed by his fluffy pillows and comforter only reaffirmed her dedication. She’ll keep her promise, no matter what it takes.