The Raven's Shadow

Ketti: Hallo! Another update. Probably the last one for... oh... five months to a year? *whistles innocently* I kid, I kid. . . Maybe. We'll see. *shifty eyes* In all seriousness, I do write things, I'm just trying to finish them before posting more. I know, I know, fat chance, right? In any case, we'll see what Jubalii can browbeat me into updating for.

If Seras talks "too good" sometimes, blame it on her exposure to Alucard and trying to talk proper. *coughs*

(*_*) ^(*_*)^ (*_*)

Chapter Eight

Caw. Crrrk. Caw! CAW!

Seras bolted upright with a gasp, only to shriek as her balance shifted and she started to slide off whatever it was she was perched on. The slippery thing rippled and quaked, a wave of water pushing her up until she was secure on the round hump. Dazed, coughing up the water in her lungs, the half drowned witch looked around in confusion until Faustus hopped into her lap and pecked at her damp sleeve. Looking down, she gaped in disbelief at the frothing water filled with circling shadows and grasping hands reaching for the hem of her shift. Pulling her feet up, she shivered as the harsh ocean wind chilled her damp skin, and jumped in alarm, nearly sliding off a second time, as a voice vibrated through her bones. "Filthy bottom feeders, get!" An enormous oar like protrusion swatted at the shadows and they scattered for a moment, just in time for a monstrous head to emerge from the water, that Seras recognized after a moment as a giant version of the creature that chased her down the beach earlier. Gaping in awe and some fright, Seras' blue eyes met with the amber one that was about the size of her head that scrutinized her briefly before turning away to watch the shadows that crept slowly closer. "Mermaids, pah! More like sharks." Again the head turned and Seras shifted a bit uneasily before bobbing her head and spreading her sodden skirt in a curtsey. "Th-thank ye for helpin' me."\

The corner of the eye crinkled, and the booming voice softened a little, gaining a more feminine tone to it, "Oh aye, yer feathered friend there asked, wee magicked one, and ah do love to ruin those wenches day."

Seras felt a shiver of familiarity roll down her spine at the accented words, "What are you?" She whispered in awe, manners forgotten.

The enormous whiskered cheeks twitched and pearly white teeth flashed, flippers pushing through the water to turn them and begin the journey back to the crooked house atop the cliff. "Ah em a selkie, wee magicked one. Ye may call me Muireann."

"I've not heard o' selkies before," Seras admitted, "are they all as big an' gran' as ye?"

Muireann laughed, her pelt quivering as her entire body vibrated with her mirth, "Nay, wee magicked one! Ah em special. Like yer feathered friend there. Do ye know his story, hmm?"

Seras looked down at Faustus who gazed back at her calmly, clacking his beak and ruffling his feathers. She ran her fingers casually through the soft down on his head, a wry twist to her lips, "He saved me," she proclaimed, "many times. That's all I need t' know about him."

"Mmm," Muireann hummed neutrally, and Seras watched the waters curiously as they grew closer and closer to the rickety stairs, jumping in surprise as a sleek brown shape leaped out of the water, barking a greeting playfully. Muireann rumbled in amusement and slapped one enormous flipper, creating a large wave for the smaller creature to ride to the beach where a good dozen or so others rested.

"Are they all selkies?" Seras questioned softly, awed by their grace in the water, only to giggle as one hobbled along the sand. "Nay," Muireann hummed, whiskers twitching, "th' smaller ones are true seals. Selkies, wee magicked one, are able t' change from seal t' human, and are known for their beauty." There was a hint of smugness in her lecturing tone that made Seras' lips twitch in a smile.

"I can see why," Seras agreed, and Faustus croaked lowly in either agreement or laughter she wasn't entirely sure.

"Mm, ye seem to see jus' fine, an' yet ah cannae see why ye travel with the dark knight."

Seras frowned, and Faustus cawed lowly, "Why not? He saved me too! Is tha' not enough reason t' trust him?"

"Now, my wee one, I shall tell ye that fer ye own good, ye'd best find a nice parish to stay in. Ye'd be safer among the men and women who worship the one called God than ye'd be in the strongest castle with that man dwelling therein. I tell you," the selkie continued, but Seras let out a sound of recognition, pointing to the figure waving to them from the fast-approaching shore.

"Now, my lovely Muireann," Renfield said kindly as they came up alongside the shoreline, "I see you've met my guest." The selkie bowed her large head, dipping it the way a lady might dip her skirts in a curtesy.

"Aye, ye magicked man," she answered. The man crowed with laughter, Faustus joining in from his newly appointed spot on Seras' shoulder.

"Magicked? Posh!" He laughed. "You know I haven't a magick bone in my body. I don't know these Old Ways of your kind, I'm afraid."

"Aye," the selkie repeated, but her voice was more solemn and didn't quite match his jovial tone. "Yer magick is from another place entirely. One I cannot describe nor understand."

"I do get that a lot," he chuckled. "Come now, little lassie," he winked, mimicking Muireann's accent as he held out a hand. "Time to go inside and freshen up for your breakfast." Seras was inches from his hand before the selkie back peddled, churning up white froth as she shook her great torso to get the girl out of Renfield's reach.

"Nay, I shan't let you have her just yet. Even for one who claims the burden of neutrality, ye are daft to let this innocent into the hands of that-"

"Now, now," Renfield cut in. "Moderation in all things, knowledge included." He shot a look at Seras, arching his brow pointedly.

"Pah!" Muireann spat and the waves churned at her back, a bold mermaid attempting to grasp Seras' skirt, causing the girl to shriek and leap forward, nearly straddling the behemoth selkie's head.

"In any case," Renfield continued in a neutral tone, "she cannot stay on your back with the mermaids riled, my dear Muireann, you and I both know it."

"I've half a mind to swim her down to the church," Muireann threatened in a growl, but Faustus croaked his disapproval, wings flapping in agitation.

"Free will, Muireann." Renfield kept his tone mild, expression blank, and after a moment, the great selkie snarled and dipped her body, practically throwing Seras into Renfield's arm as she doused them in a wave, turning and diving back into the sea with a disgruntled bellow.

Seras thought for sure she'd fall back into the ocean and it'd be the end of her at the mermaids clutches, but when she closed her eyes she found herself colliding with a solid, warm form. The man caught her, somehow, without moving a step. She looked up at him, wondering if perhaps he did have some magick after all.

"My my, such temper," he tutted, shaking his head. "Now, how about breakfast? On a side note, dear, I'd much rather you not run out to the ocean on your own." He wagged his finger at her scoldingly, though his voice never changed an octave from the friendly tone. "Too many things would like all too much to get their hands on you." He turned, leading her ahead of him with one hand on the small of her back. "Now. Breakfast, and then we'll see about getting you some dry things."

"Do... Do I hafte dance for my breakfast?" She asked half-fearfully, remembering the impromptu "entertainment" of the night before.

"Bless me, no!" He exclaimed. "This isn't a harem. Just tell what you'd like to eat and I'll see what I can do."

Seras thought long and hard about this as she stumbled up the steps, shivering and wishing for the warm cloak she'd left on the sands when she'd gone to supposedly rescue the mermaid. Renfield's hand never strayed from the small of her back, and at first it had made her tense but she slowly relaxed, trusting him at least a little bit to not do anything unseemly. Still, once they reached the house she took an extra two steps ahead of him, arms wrapped protectively around herself as he gave her a side long glance before leading the way back into the columned room and pulling out a chair for her, Faustus fluttering his way onto the table.

She'd never really had much variety when growing up, her main diet being bread, berries, and the odd small game – not to mention the rare pilfered pastry – so when given a choice of what to eat her mind went blank. Renfield gazed at her expectantly and she squirmed uncomfortably, missing her hood, blurting out the first thing she could think of; "eggs 'n toast, please."

His brow arched minutely, "Is that all?" She shifted in her seat, shrugging and nodding simultaneously, and he nodded as well, turning to make his way… somewhere, she assumed the kitchen perhaps. He returned shortly with a steaming tray of food; eggs, toast, bacon, sausage, and a cup filled to the brim with juice. She stared, amazed, and tentatively reached for the bacon only for Renfield to clear his throat and she dropped the food guiltily. "Use the cutlery please."

Oh, was that all? Blinking owlishly, she picked up the fork, a bit clumsily, and stabbed the eggs, almost moaning in delight at the warm and fluffy texture on her tongue. She ate until she was fit to burst, nearly forgetting he was there until he appeared at her side and she jumped in alarm as he reached over her to clear the dishes. She snatched the half finished cup of juice back and skittered back away from him, closer to the window. He said nothing, only vanishing betwixt the columns once more, leaving her to her thoughts. She finished the tangy juice quickly, enjoying the tartness as a rare treat, and when he returned, she felt a little calmer.

"Now, let's see what we can dig up for dry clothes, hm?" He asked kindly, gesturing towards the hallway that led to her room, the route seeming much shorter this time, and when they reached her door, she found her discarded dress and cloak laying across her bed. She gasped, turning on her heel to stare at the man in bafflement, "But how-"

"Ah ah," he clucked, wagging his finger, "that is not the issue, you need to get dry or you'll catch your death of cold." Ushering her further into the room he pushed her gently into the closet where she found a few simple slips and lovely warm cotton dresses in neutral colors hanging. He backed away politely and left her to change while Faustus settled on the bed and croaked his amusement.

Cheeks flushing a little, she slipped out of the still damp shift, finding a towel laid on the ground for her, she dried her skin as best she could before wriggling her way into the moss green dress, feeling rather tired suddenly she crawled into bed and formed a nest of blankets around herself to nap until she was needed.

Something felt off, the air was choking and hot, she couldn't breathe, and she woke with a muffled scream, hand flying to cover her trembling lips. Blinking rapidly, the remnants of the dream faded and within moments she forgot it entirely, though she couldn't quite shake the chill of fear chattering her teeth. Cold, she felt cold, and she pulled the blankets tighter around herself as her head poked out of the nest to take a peek at the window, only to find it was already sunset, the dying rays fading beautifully across the water. Wait… Her brow furrowed, toes curling in the sheets, hadn't she seen the morning sun when she woke? How could it now be the sunset? Head spinning a little, she groaned and stumbled to her feet, happy to discover the privy behind the folding screen and a bucket of room temperature water to wash her hands and face. Faustus was nowhere to be seen, and so she poked her head out into the hall, only to jump in surprise when Nekette did the same from, presumably, her own room just next door.

"Little Sister is awake!" The girl cried excitedly, and Seras was tempted to close the door and hide in bed, but was not given the chance as the dressed-yet-almost-naked female hurried out of her own room and grabbed hold of Seras' hands, dragging her down the hall, chattering all the while. "Master said not to call you that, but you don't mind, do you? Of course you don't! Family is important, yes, yes. Did Little Sister enjoy her dip in the ocean?" Nekette stopped jabbering on at Seras' surprised look and she laughed, "Little Sister smells of salt and seals! Did you meet Miss Moo the Selkie Boss? She's very nice, but I don't much like the water, see, so I just throw her some fish from the shore and she trades me the pretty rocks at the bottom of the sea!"

Seras just nodded dazedly as she tried to take the plethora of information in, unsurprised to find herself escorted back to the central room of the odd house, and practically thrown into a seat that was already set with delicious looking pasties to go with the tea. Mechanically, Seras reached for a biscuit and sipped her steaming cup, only coming out of her daze when the familiar weight of Faustus settled on her shoulder, and she offered him the remainder of her munchie, which he nibbled at daintily.

"I heard you're leaving tomorrow!" Nekette continued in a louder voice to catch Seras' wandering attention, "you've barely been here at all, though, I wonder if Master would let me travel with you?"

"Absolutely not." The Knight – she couldn't really think of him as Vlad, it seemed too personal and he had not offered the name himself – answered as he appeared at the head of the table. "You draw far too much attention, Nekette."

"Bu-"

"Don't argue with me," he growled lowly, rumbling voice dark with threat, and the pale haired girl sighed before nodding solemnly, a hurt look on her face.

After a moment of heavy silence, Seras spoke, "We're leavin' Sir?"

His gaze shifted her way, considering her heavily before he nodded, "I got what I came here for, Little Wolf. There is no need to tarry."

"Oh," that was all she could say as she continued her feast of tea foods, enjoying the small sandwiches immensely.

"Do you not approve?" His voice was bland, and yet she still felt as though he were judging her, and she shifted uneasily, wishing she had grabbed her cloak to hide beneath the hood. "O'course not, Sir. Tis not my place."

"Oh?" Nekette purred, "and why not? If you travel together, don't you have a say in where you go?"

Seras stared at her, baffled, "And why would I, a simple waif, have a say in such things? Sir is a very generous Knight t' take th' likes of me along with."

"Hmm," Nekette hummed, eyeing Seras strangely before she lifted her cup to take a sip, and the blonde could not help but feel as though she were being judged and found wanting. Rankled, she finished her tea and stood, pacing agitatedly towards the mermaid fountain at the center of the enormous room. Almost numb to the supernatural after her dip in the water that morning, she reacted without thought when the burbling statue reached out for her, slapping the stone hands back with a snarl and swinging her leg out in a billow of skirts, her foot flying over the water unimpeded. Laughter met her ears and she whirled, searching for the source of the sound, crouched in a defensive stance, fingers hooked like claws, expression filled with cold anger. Her frayed nerves were on the verge of snapping, self preservation kicking in, the rush of adrenaline familiar to her as her old smock back in the village.

A strange man stood at the mouth of the hallway, dressed in a Lord's trappings of rich blues accented with red, his cloak hung around his shoulders majestically, framing his broad muscular form, the design of his vest drawing her eye to the sword hanging openly at his belt, and when he moved towards her at a leisurely pace she looked up, and up, at his expressionless smooth face, framed by unruly chestnut curls, his dark eyes staring right through her to the table. He brushed right past her, nearly bumping her back into the fountain as his heavy boots thudded across the floorboards, only to stop two chairs down from the Knight, bowing his head and waiting for acknowledgement. Seras gaped at him, feeling small and outnumbered by such figures of obviously high rank, and then she felt her ire rise at his rudeness. Hanging back by the flowering columns, she watched with a touch of sullen irritation as her Knight looked over the newcomer with something akin to respect in his eyes, his words a purr, "Issak, as prompt as ever."

"Of course, my Lord," Issak's voice was husky and deep, a heavy accent that'd she'd never heard before coloring his words, "I heard you had a pest problem." There was a hint of that same laughter as he spoke, and Seras watched the Knight's lip twitch at the corner as Nekette leapt to her feet, hands on hips, a cross look on her face. "Is that any way to speak about a lady?!" She exclaimed, despite her tiny size somehow managing to appear as large as the men. Issak turned his head to her, and Seras could not see the expression, but whatever it was made Nekette's cheeks puff angrily as he straightened, looming over her. "A Lady? Nyet, but Nekette is not a Lady," he taunted, "you are dressed akin to a street walker," he paused, and Seras could only assume he was looking her over, "or were you hoping to be confused for a genie?" Scorn laced his words and Seras wanted to march over there and slap him, hackles rising.

Nekette beat her to it, her bangles jingling loudly as she leaped across the table and delivered a hard smack to Issak's face, glaring at him, "Is that any way to talk to your older Sister?! For shame!"

The Knight burst out laughing uproariously at the pair, making them pause in their verbal assault to turn to him with what Seras could only assume to be chastised expressions. Curious, she crept along the edge of the room to be at the Knight's back to get a better view of the going's on.

"Children," the Knight spoke in a condescending manner, "play nice. Nekette, you know full well the meaning behind your outfit. Issak, do not encourage her."

Seras bit her lip to smother her own laughter at their expense as Nekette bowed her head submissively, the pair of them speaking in unison. "Yes, my Lord."

"Little Wolf," her Knight crooned, crooking a finger at her, "come here."

She hesitated only a moment before obeying, appearing at his side, as pretty as a picture in her moss green dress, unmarred face and becoming golden locks.

"Say goodbye to Nekette, she's leaving." He commanded, and she blinked in some surprise as she looked at the sullen girl, who took the opportunity to throw herself at Seras, nearly sending them both to the floor. "Kette will miss pretty Little Sister!" She cried, "you must visit!"

Issak made a sound low in his throat and snatched Nekette up by the back of her see through top, dangling the eccentric silver female a good foot off the floor. He said something to her in a foreign language and the girl responded in the same tongue, tone harsh and biting. Issak laughed cruelly and hefted her higher, swinging the girl over his shoulder as he bowed his head at the Knight, completely ignoring Seras, and turning to leave. Nekette called her farewells as she struggled and kicked, looking a little too amused by her situation to be normal.

Seras opened her mouth, to say what she wasn't sure, when Renfield appeared from the center of the room. "Phew!" Renfield breathed quietly, winking at Seras. "It's fun to have entertaining houseguests, but after a while I begin to long for the lone tranquility of my gardens again." Seras could understand; when you weren't used to crowds, being around them became taxing, she had a hard enough time being with the Knight as it was on occasion. "You will, of course, spend the night before you venture off tomorrow, yes?" Though it was phrased like a question, the blonde knew instinctively that it was a borderline order.

After a moment of silence, the Knight nodded, and Seras couldn't help but ask; "You have gardens?"

Renfield laughed good naturedly, "Oh, yes! I've got quite the collection of night blooming flowers. Would you like to see?"

Seras slipped out from under the Knight's hand that lay upon her shoulder and practically skipped up to their host, "Yes, please!"