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The meadow beside the Fort had always been a serene place, but today, it was alive with activity. From where she stood, Raelle could see the Fort's walls in the distance, looking imposing against the backdrop of the setting sun. The meadow itself was transformed with fall colours, and it felt like standing in a painter's dream. Crimson and gold leaves were scattered around, some caught in the hair and uniforms of bustling cadets.
Lanterns were being strung up between trees that bordered the meadow, and their soft glow promised warmth for the evening. Long tables were set with bowls of dried herbs and autumnal centrepieces, and patches of pumpkins awaited their turn to be carved into lanterns. Everywhere, the air held a mix of excitement and reflection, the Samhain spirit genuinely taking over.
She could hear the distant laughter and chatter of cadets when a familiar voice pulled her out of her observations. "How are the preparations going, sergeant?"
Raelle turned, and her face lit up. "Abs!" She quickly closed the distance between them, embracing her sister. "I didn't know when you'd arrive."
Abigail's eyes darted briefly, a hint of unease. "Hmm, I wasn't sure how it'd pan out..."
"Adil?"
Abigail hesitated for a moment, her gaze shifting towards the preparations. "Long story... But look at this," she gestured vaguely towards the bustling cadets, her voice carrying a forced lightness. "I see the preparations are in full swing."
Raelle let out a playful sigh. "With the boys arriving at the Fort just yesterday, overseeing these preparations has been challenging. It seems they've become quite the distraction for our cadets."
Abigail laughed, casting a mischievous glance. "And we were angels, were we? Never distracted, always on task?"
The two sisters paused, taking in the autumnal surroundings. The meadow had always transformed beautifully with the seasons. Still, the approach of Samhain lent it a mystical air, an aura that went beyond the mere chill and gloom of winter.
"And how's Scylla?" Abigail inquired.
"Deep in her element, apparently. I've yet to wrap my head around what the Necro unit plans to harness this energy for, but it seems... captivating, to say the least."
Abigail raised an eyebrow. "And creepy."
With a chuckle, Raelle retorted, "Well, it's bound to be. But come on, it's Samhain. Necros thrive during this time. Beltane for life, Samhain for the cycle's end. Beltane for beginnings, Samhain for reflections. It's their eternal dance."
Abigail hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Speaking of dances..."
Raelle caught the undertone immediately. "No changes. We've geared up as usual."
"But Tally is not here yet, right?"
"Not yet." Raelle stressed, "Her transport should be here soon. As for the usual Samhain celebrations... well, we've prepared Tally's room with her favourite comfort food."
"And the... second participant in this yearly charade?"
"Alder just received a fresh shipment of Whisky. The close-combat training room, coincidentally, is unavailable tomorrow. Plus, I noticed her calendar seems miraculously open for the week."
Abigail shook her head, a mix of amusement and disbelief in her voice. "Every single year..."
"To quote Alder, 'What are we without our traditions?'"
-=---=-
At 19:25, the transporter landed at the helipad. A small group from Fort Salem awaited on the landing pad to greet the newcomers. Since morning, transporters landed every half an hour, bringing representatives from military bases across the country. Tradition dictated that every army base across the country send its representatives to participate in the Samhain celebrations. In ancient times, Samhain didn't just mark the seasonal change and so-called "dark times" but also a ceasefire for the winter. From the transport labelled number 739, five people hurriedly disembarked. The group had yet to reach the welcoming party when the helicopter behind them soared into the sky.
The young witch with a short afro smiled broadly.
"Captain Craven! Welcome to Fort Salem. My name is Neomi Rads. My sisters and I are your primary contacts during your stay at the base," she shouted, trying to be heard over the helicopter.
"It's good to be back," replied Tally with a smile. "Rest easy. I hope we aren't too late."
The Rads unit relaxed.
"Most have already arrived, but the ceremonies officially start at 20:00," informed Neomi, leading them towards the base. Tally could feel their gaze on her. It wasn't anything new. Myths and legends circulated around the Fort about the Bellweather unit. Growing and being exaggerated with every new year of cadets.
As they walked, Rads nodded at one of her sisters, who quickly moved away. Tally followed her with her gaze.
"The General asked to be informed immediately upon your arrival," the Neomi quickly explained. "She wanted a chance to greet you in the main hall."
"Of course," replied Tally, her gaze fixed on the dark silhouette of the Fort looming in the distance.
Neomi tried to read something from the woman's demeanour. Still, Craven walked confidently, an aura around her emanating an unchanging calm and a warm charisma. The mention of the General changed nothing. Craven responded casually, but beyond that, Neomi observed no change. Maybe it was just rumors. Goddess knows that various tales spread around the Fort, and most were utterly baseless.
-=---=-
Anacostia watched the transporter from afar, continuing her patrol to check the base's security. Working closely with Petra, Anacostia was responsible for the smooth progression of the ceremony. The times were peaceful. No hidden enemy lurked on the horizon; the political situation for witches had drastically changed since the release of the first song, strengthening their political position. Suddenly, since magic became widely available, having a trained military force to use it became a priority rather than a threat. All of this was good... but it created one non-obvious problem. The peaceful times... didn't create good excuses for disappearing from the celebrations.
The transporter's rotors gradually dimmed, replaced by the stillness of the evening. Anacostia smirked.
" Let the games begin," she murmured to herself.
-=---=-
When they entered the main hall, Tally immediately noticed Alder waiting for them, her presence dominating the arena. Next to Alder was Raelle, standing confidently and displaying a side of her Tally had yet to get used to. Against all odds, Raelle excelled in the role of Drill Sergeant.
The rest of her unit tried to maintain their composure. Though forewarned on the helipad, the reality of having the General greet them in person was still an overwhelming honour, one they hadn't truly expected.
"Welcome back," she said, her voice smooth and warm. She approached Tally, wrapping her in an embrace - professional enough to be acceptable and personal enough to make Tally's head spin a bit. "It's been too long."
Pushing past her brief daze, Tally replied, "It feels good to be back." She couldn't help but notice the sidelong glances from her group, all except for Raelle's knowing smirk. "This holiday always calls me back." She said, stepping back from the General.
Alder's gaze turned slightly playful yet probing. "And yet, Beltane passed without a trace of you."
Tally shifted slightly, her eyes flickering away. "Some dates are harder to keep than others," she said, evading a deeper explanation. Turning to Raelle, she raised an eyebrow. "I get embraced by the General, but my sister keeps her distance?"
Raelle laughed, finally moving to give Tally a tight hug. "You'll get enough of me today, Red."
"Never," Tally retorted playfully. When their unit was disbanded and each assigned different roles, it was initially hard. Tally had been afraid they'd lose touch. Still, despite operating in entirely different environments, every reunion felt like they'd just seen each other the day before.
"Rads," Tally addressed the accompanying cadet, "I've spent enough time at the Fort to find my way blindfolded... Can I ask you and your unit to assist the other representatives?" It wasn't really a request, but there was no need for harshness. The cadet seemed a bit taken aback by her tone, and Tally could swear she saw a hint of a smile creep onto Alder's face.
"Of course, Captain."
"Thank you," Tally turned back to the General, "Shall we? Don't you have a speech to give... in about 12 minutes?"
The General sighed.
"Unfortunately. I try to delegate it every year, but no one ever volunteers." They started walking towards the assembly hall. The muted glow from the hanging lanterns cast golden reflections on the floor, making the path to the hall seem all the more regal.
"Oh, the pain of being a living symbol for all witches," Tally teased.
Sarah gave her a meaningful look.
"Alright, alright. I'll stay quiet." Tally said, holding her hands up in mock surrender.
"Or you could do something better." Sarah answered, "Convince Abigail Bellwether to volunteer next time."
"You're skipping over Collar?" Asked Tally, looking over to Raelle.
Raelle's eyes darted between the two of them. "Don't drag me into this. I've enough on my plate yelling at these cadets day and night. There's no way I'm getting roped into any speeches or ceremonies."
"You see? That's why only Bellweather can be roped into leading the next Beltane," the General concluded. Just for a split moment, her tone changed; it was more harsh, less refined… less practised. Tally could tell that Raelle also noticed because her face tightened briefly. Sarah wasn't skipping over Raelle. She was skipping over Tally. And they both knew it.
-=---=-
Tally and Raelle stepped inside the auditorium together. The grand hall had once been part of Tally's cadet life. Back then, the vastness of the room had felt overwhelming. Now, returning after years, it felt both familiar but somehow smaller. The room murmured with the soft chatter of witches settling in. Among them, Abigail waved from the middle rows, having secured seats for both. They sat together as if nothing had changed.
The lights in the auditorium dimmed, casting the grand room into a subdued glow, only the stage illuminated. As General Alder took to the podium, the room fell silent, every gaze fixed on her. For a moment, Tally felt like that first day when she saw Alder speaking in the auditorium for the first time.
The General spoke of unity, the inevitable passage of time, and their duty to honour the lineage of ancestors, mothers, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers whose sacrifices and values forged the path they now tread. As Tally observed Alder, she pondered the duality of the General — Alder, the revered icon and… Sarah. Sarah, the woman… just Sarah. It was not the time or place to go too deep into those thoughts, so Tally refocused on the witches in the room. To them, Sarah was a symbol. A legend. A mother for them all. The General.
Tally could tell that the speech was slowly coming to an end. Over the years of working together, she recognised the pattern Sarah used when crafting her speeches. The General looked around the hall, concluding with a warm, positive encouragement to participate in traditions. As she uttered those words, her gaze met Tally's.
"Right," Tally murmured under her breath. "Fucking ironic"
-=---=-
The official part was over. The group moved from the campus to the meadow, where tables and ceremonial fires were prepared. Alder, Witchfather, and a few other key individuals carried torches with which they ignited the grand ceremonial fires, marking the beginning of the feast. Music played in the background. It was still early. Samhain was significantly different from Beltane in form. While the spring and summer festival started with a bang and... well, also ended with a bang, Samhain began more modestly, with greater restraint, and it took a while for the celebrations to fully kick off. It all started innocently with communal meals and conversations gradually turning into games and dances and ending in a finale like the spring-summer festival.
Sitting next to Abigail, Tally listened to the conversations surrounding them. Groups and pairs slowly formed around them. Tally saw a few boys sending glances their way - they hadn't approached them yet, but it was only a matter of time. Alcohol and the overall atmosphere would give them courage. And then... the rest would happen. An atmosphere of anticipation surrounded them. Tally saw the glances Anacostia sent them from the other end of the table. She also saw how Raelle was... extraordinarily... focused on her drink.
As Tally reached for her drink, another familiar voice rang out, "Tal!" A tall figure approached, and Gerit's broad smile became apparent as he drew closer. Without waiting for an invitation, he swept Tally into a warm hug. When he finally released her, he scanned the table with a playfully exaggerated sweep. "And the rest of the company! Always a pleasure."
Abigail smirked, twirling her drink in her hand. "Your charm knows no bounds, Buttonwood."
His eyes lingered on Tally for a moment. "Well, two of you are spoken for. Can't blame a guy for trying."
There was a practised dance in these moments; Tally had been part of it countless times. A new suitor or an old flame would approach, vying for her attention. The light banter, the hint of flirtation, and the jests were all expected. But tonight, it just meant that the next phase of the night will start soon.
As Tally felt Raelle's nudging foot under the table, she knew who was approaching. The faint scent of lavender mixed with fresh grass gave her further confirmation. Before she could react, a familiar, warm hand settled on her back. She didn't need to look to know who it was.
"Buttonwood," Sarah Alder's deep voice sounded from behind Tally, "I see that some things never change."
Gerit's posture changed subtly, an almost imperceptible straightening of his spine. "General, ma'am," he responded, a hint of apprehension in his voice. His gaze darted to the hand on Tally's back, then Alder's face. "As you've noted, some things never change."
Tally could feel the tension mounting; the air seemed to grow thicker. She didn't have to look to know what was happening behind her back. Sarah's steely eyes locked onto Gerit, challenging him with a silent power play.
Gerit cleared his throat. "If you'll excuse me, I believe they're serving fresh apple cider. Wouldn't want to miss out."
As Gerit made his exit, Sarah effortlessly settled into the seat beside Tally. What might have seemed like a ridiculous mix at the table felt surprisingly natural. It wasn't their first year of doing this… whatever this was. And it wasn't the first year Abs and Raelle were sharing the table with Sarah Alder. Tally watched as she leaned back in her chair, exuding a relaxed air, her body language open and inviting. Sarah was engaging without dominating the conversation, laughing freely at Abigail's stories and even chiming in with a few of her own.
Tally could feel the familiarity in their interactions, the comfortable rhythm they had fallen into over time. A gentle touch on the arm, a shared glance, a whispered comment about someone's rather outrageous story.
Between stories and toasts, Sarah's hand would often find Tally's. Sometimes, it was just a gentle squeeze; other times, their fingers intertwine. At this point, the rest of the table wasn't really surprised.
Occasionally, the outside world intruded. Someone would approach to pay respects to the General, glancing at Tally. Still, Sarah was always quick to introduce everyone at the table. Like it was the most normal thing to do.
But somewhere in the back of Tally's mind, the clock was ticking. Because she knew that his evening won't end well. It never did.
-=---=-
Sarah leaned in, her lips brushing Tally's ear. "I need to see Petra." As if she owed her an explanation. As if Tally had a right to that explanation. The words were familiar, the tone even more so. A cue, a pattern, a ritual in itself.
Tally nodded, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her dress, seeking a distraction. "Go," she murmured, though the words felt caught in her throat. She watched as Sarah gracefully stood. The space next to her immediately felt cold. As Sarah's form merged with the crowd, the enchantment of the evening seemed to dim. Tally's focus shifted to the dancing and merriment happening around. Will she come back? Tally wanted to believe that. But she knew that was it. She had her few hours of heaven… She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry more.
"Tally?" Raelle's voice broke through Tally's thoughts.
"It's… ok. It's perfect. Perfectly on time, right?" Tally replied, the edge in her voice unmistakable. Yet she forced a smile, and Raelle and Abigail gave each other that glance—the one filled with concern and recognition of the recurring cycle.
"When you're this calm, it's almost scarier, Tals." Said Abigail, leaning forward.
Tally exhaled sharply. "I'm not … it's ok. Really," she said, but her grip on her wine glass betrayed her. She filled it to the brim, the crimson liquid reflecting the firelight. "It's… ok."
Her eyes darted around the room, subtly at first, searching for that familiar face. Each figure that walked by heightened her anticipation. A whispered hope that Sarah would come back. But as the minutes rolled on, a sinking realisation took hold. She wouldn't be returning. The cycle was almost completed.
"Why aren't we in there? Amongst the dancers?" Tally questioned, desperate to shift the focus.
Abigail studied Tally for a moment. "You think it's a good idea?"
"Why not?" Tally asked like it was the most usual situation ever. "I mean, I don't know how about you, but… I have a lot of energy to burn right now."
Understanding the ritual, both nodded. This was how they navigated the evening.
-=---=-
The dimly lit corridors of the base offered Sarah the solitude she sought. Her footsteps echoed softly, each step taking her further from the celebrations and closer to the sanctuary of her office. This wasn't right… but also this was the only way. She liked it or not. This was the only way. She was deep in her thoughts when a figure appeared right before her. Sarah cursed under her breath. This was the last thing she needed right now.
"Did something happen?" Anacostia asked. "I'm on security detail and…"
"No, Ana. Everything's all right… you can return to your duties." General tried to pass Ana, but the younger woman just moved and blocked her way."
"But it's not right."
"I'm sorry?"
"My General is sneaking out in the middle of celebrations. Usually, it means that something bad is happening… I mean, that's how it usually played out."
"Ana..."
"Last year it was... sudden consultations about..." She acted like she was trying to remember.
"The situation with Syria was tense." General offered.
"Oh, yes… so I'm asking: what is it this time?" Ana stood unyielding, and Sarah really didn't like the direction this talk was taking.
"Nothing, Ana… go back to your duties." Sarah tried again, but Ana wasn't done.
"Two years ago, there was a sudden mysterious lead on Camarilla… Fun fact: the lead disappeared the very next day."
"Captain Quartermain …"
"...So I assume you have an excuse this year."
"I don't owe you or anybody any explanation," Alder said through gritted teeth.
"You're pulling the hierarchy card. So there's no excuse."
"Ana, this really isn't your..."
"Not my business? True." Ana nodded slowly before she continued. "But tomorrow, it will be my business. Tomorrow, Craven will be in terrible shape, and Raelle and Abigail will do everything in their power to pick up the pieces. So yeah, you are right - today, it is not my problem. Samhain will fully kick off in a moment; Tally will find someone willing to accompany her tonight... but tomorrow... she'll fall apart. Raelle will come to me to cover for her while she and Abigail help Tally pick up a thousand pieces she will shatter into. They'll sit in her room, Tally nervously consuming a box of candy apples... do you know how I know?"
Sarah was silent.
"Because it's the same every year. Every year. She then vomits from nerves, alcohol, and those damn apples. When she's slightly better, she joins us for breakfast. She's surrounded by her calm, warm, but so artificial aura... jokingly promises she'll never show up here again. And a year goes by... and you two play your little dance again. And as usual, you leave her at the end of the night."
"My role..."
"Oh please, you can bullshit everyone that you're superhuman and can't get attached and so on... but it won't work on me. Besides, if that's the case, why give her hope? Why be with her... for a few hours, acting as if she's your whole world? Your role... yeah, it's tough, but you put her in an impossible situation. Why do you think she never settled with anyone?"
Ana saw Alder's face transform. Anger and fury crept into her previously calm and emotionless face. Her adoptive mother was about to explode, and as she knew her, this explosion couldn't change anything for the better. Because her anger was devouring, her fury consuming. The General opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Ana spoke again.
"I don't care. Whatever you want to say, however, you want to argue. However, you want to vent your anger at me. No. You have a new batch of whiskey in your office. Tomorrow morning, the training room is reserved for you. You can lash out your anger as you usually do. "Anacostia stopped for a moment." Don't act surprised - Tally always reacts the same way..., but so do you. Year after year. And I have to watch it. As Collar and Bellweather have to pick up Craven, I'll endure your moods for the next two weeks. It's no magic that in the week after Samhain, important meetings magically disappear from your calendar... It's also no coincidence that for the next two or three weeks, I'll be your shadow, managing the damage resulting from your fury." Ana laughed bitterly. "But go. Do what you always do. You can suspend me tomorrow morning. That would at least be a change. But I... I'm going back. And you should, too. Though... if everything is as usual, Tally has already found company."
With those words, Anacostia turned on her heel and left. She expected a scream... but only the echo of her footsteps filled the corridor.
-=---=-
From a distance, thunder could be heard. Sarah channelled all her energy to prevent a storm from erupting over the Fort. Her anger burned from within like a cold inferno. Over the past five years, the festival in Fort Samhain had come to be called the Feast of the Cold Storm. Of course, Sarah had heard about it but tried to ignore it. After all, they couldn't connect it to her... and Tally. Ana's words weighed on her like a heated blade in a festering wound. Keeping her fury in check was more challenging than usual. She should have thought of something sooner... a reason she couldn't be at the ceremony, a reason she couldn't be in the Fort that day...
"Pitiful..." she murmured. Through the window of her office, in the distance, the glow of burning bonfires could be seen. Thankfully, the sounds of celebration did not penetrate the closed window. The image of Tally dancing with Gerit or... anyone else... formed in her mind. Sarah closed her eyes and emptied her glass in one go. One advantage of not having Biddies was that she could get drunk. She could drown herself to the point of unconsciousness, sleep it off... and return to life late in the afternoon the next day. She could have done it before... just using salve, but in the afternoon, Tally won't be in the Fort anymore...
The door to her office opened, and Sarah cursed inwardly. She was not in the mood for another lecture.
"Ana. I thought we agreed to discuss your suspension tomorrow," she said with sarcasm, without taking her eyes off the warm glow of the bonfires in the distance. Ana remained silent. Sarah sighed with frustration. "Alright. If you're that eager, we can talk now."
She set the glass on the sill and turned in her chair. But instead of Ana, it was Tally Craven, staring at her intently.
"I thought you were having a rather long conversation with Petra," she began, tilting her head as if trying to recall something, "Although, actually, I was wondering how the hell you were talking to her when she's now with Witchfather, having a great time. Seriously, she's having so much fun that Abigail doesn't want to watch... Must be magic." Tally laughed nervously.
"Tally. You shouldn't be here."
"Oh yeah, I know. But you see, I really don't feel like doing what's supposed to happen next by our usual plan. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of choices. I can't complain about the lack of volunteers, but usually, having sex with someone when you're really pissed and hurt... doesn't taste too good. Trust me… I've been conducting professional research on this for what... last six years?"
"Seven... I believe."
Tally approached the desk and took a seat opposite Sarah.
"Seven years. God, it even spoiled candy apples for me. And I loved candy apples. Now, they remind me of guilt. Of feeling worthless. It's messed up. Especially since I'm not worthless."
Rain began to fall outside. Tally was everything. Absolutely everything. Of course, Sarah knew that what they were doing wasn't healthy... but those few hours... once a year... she could at least imagine what it would be like to be with her. Selfishly, she couldn't quit.
"I'm sorry," Sarah said, and an awkward silence followed, which was broken by Tally's laugh.
"No," she said, shaking her head and reaching for the bottle on the desk, "Sorry doesn't fix it."
Tally took a long swig from it.
"Besides, you're not the only one at fault here. Every year, I have to hear how half the Fort undergoes two to three weeks of your inexplicable fury after Samhain... so I guess I'm equally guilty, right?"
"I wouldn't exaggerate about the fury..."
"Sarah, last year, the guy who spent the night with me was injured during field exercises organised a week after Samhain. It took him over two months to recover from injuries. Sure, no one could prove it was you... but do they need to?" Tally took another sip, "I'm not judging. After all, I know how it ends, yet I keep coming here. I could refuse... I don't have to represent our base every year. But I'm always here."
"You don't come for Baltane."
"Yeah… you know, somehow the idea of you with Witchfather..."
"It's tradition... and a transaction."
"It's a tradition and a transaction. But somehow, it can't happen between us, right?"
Seven years. Seven years since Sarah returned to life. Seven years they've danced around each other... but never called things by their name.
"It couldn't be transactional with you." Sarah whispered, "It wouldn't be something I could cut off, forget, and you know it."
Tally smiled upon hearing those words, but Sarah only frowned.
"No. Don't smile. That means that you would become a target Tally. You'd be my weakness. Now we're at peace... but in any danger... if someone would want to hurt me. To get to me. You would be the first target. You know it. There is a line we cannot cross."
A dangerous smile was still lingering on Tally's face.
"Mhhhm." She set the bottle on the desk and stretched out slowly, focusing on Sarah before gradually rising from the chair. "Am I not now?"
Tally began to slowly walk around the desk.
"Am I not your weakness now? Am I not the target?"
Sarah felt her breath quicken and her heart race.
"At least now, not many know about it..."
"Ah yeah. You're right. 7 years ago… probably little or even no one knew. 5 years ago… maybe Anacostia, Raelle and Abs…" Tally approached Sarah, positioning herself between her and the desk. "Now? I arrive at the Fort, and the cadets watch to see how I react to mentioning your name."
"Tally..."
"Every three months now, I undergo a security audit conducted by the head of internal security. And it's definitely not because of my position in the military," Tally said as she straddled Sarah's lap. "Everyone who interacts with me is thoroughly vetted."
Tally wrapped her arms around Sarah's shoulders, embracing her. Her proximity, scent, and touch were intoxicating.
"I've had enough."
Tally's face was so close that Sarah couldn't help but stare at her lips. Her rational mind was still fighting for control. Still, she knew she was losing that battle as her hands embraced Tally, slowly exploring her body.
"We can't give up on security measures..." Sarah tried to avert her gaze from Tally's lips, but another thunderclap echoed outside.
"That's not what I meant", Tally chuckled softly, the chuckle transforming into a moan as Sarah dug her nails into Tally's back. "I'm just tired of paying the price for something... I haven't yet received."
"Yet?"
"Yet. And today, we're changing that." With those words, she closed the gap between them.
-=---=-
The next day, Raelle Collar knocked gently on Tally's door. The lack of response wasn't surprising. Every year, the aftermath was the same — Tally retreating into herself, lost in a maze of emotions and memories. Bracing herself for the scene she expected to find, Raelle used her spare key and slowly pushed the door open.
The dim morning light revealed an undisturbed room. Tally's bed, neatly made, looked like it had yet to be slept in. A travel bag sat at the foot of the bed as if waiting for its next journey. The usual chaos of scattered clothes, strewn papers, and half-eaten food was absent. But what caught Raelle's eye was the unopened box of candy apples on the dresser.
"And the sun shines," Abigail's voice startled Raelle.
"What?"
"It's not raining. After Samhain, it always rained."