Gifts from a Witch

- Some Time in the Past -

"Nayan, Tsajasuna has a gift for her cub."

The boy-thing was wrapping his hair in some cloth, so it wouldn't touch his shoulders as they travelled. It was early morn, and they were getting ready to leave the inn already. There was a peculiar look of concentration in his face as he did this. His eyes darted to his mother, and he nodded quickly. Tsajasuna lay back in her chair, to watch her creation. Mentally, Nayan was still a child, but he was already 98 years old. He had't aged at all and was as pristine as the day he had been sewn together. The old witch sat smugly - creating life was incredibly difficult, even for other witches. She had known of some, like the Hagravens and their Briarhearts. She remembered an old acquaintance who had even made a goat-child.

Nayan finished tying his hair and sat down on the bed in front of Tsajasuna, his head cocked slightly. He didn't smile - no, they were still working on that. Natural expression was still a little difficult for the golem. Tsajasuna closed her eyes, tapping her fingers. She would wait until he spoke the words she had taught him.

"...W-what is it, please?"

She smiled, eyes still shut. He finally remembered to say "please" when asking her for something. She opened her eyes, and produced a wooden box from somewhere on her person. Nayan's eyes lit up when he saw it was a gift for him.

"Ah, is it a heart? No, is it a-a cat?"

"No, child, it is not a heart and Nayan knows already that this one does not like cats. Also, Tsajasuna believes that any cat would end up in your tummy!"

Nayan scrunched his face up at this, taking offense.

"T-that's wrong, I really like cats! One day I'll have lot of c-cats!"

"Hmph. This one will believe it when Tsajasuna sees it."

Nayan looked downwards, feeling his eyes become watery. His eyes darted upwards as Tsajasuna opened up the wooden box.

"Go on, take them - and don't pout!"

The boy-thing reached inside, and pulled out a heavy, very expensive-looking metalbound book. It was laced with silver filigree, etched beautifully onto a slightly bronze surface. It was incredibly heavy, but Nayan did not notice it's weight. He turned it over in his hands, his claws making a tapping sound as he felt it with his hands. It was of very high quality.

"Mother, it's beautiful!"

"This ones knows, child. The cover was very expensive, but this one thinks it is worth it. Open it and look upon it's pages."

Nayan did as he was told, and opened the book up. The pages were blank, hundreds and hundreds of them and each page was marked with a small stamp. He looked closer and noticed it was the mark Tsajasuna had etched onto his lip and eyes a year or so ago. The rune of Subjugation.

"Now, child. Tsajasuna still thinks that her cub needed to be marked. You are my property and will be named as such. It will keep you safe from other witches and warlocks..."

Nayan was still, remembering the terrible pain his mother had inflicted on him. She had tricked him, luring him into the bosom of the earth. He was told he was going to meet Namira for the first time, that he must go alone. He had traversed the pathway through the ground, into the tomb and mold underneath. At the end of his journey, he had come across a great shrine in Namira's image. Tsajasuna had told him that a sacrifice would be waiting for him, that he must spill it's blood on the altar to summon the Prince. The old witch-cat knew that Nayan - after two days of traversing the tomb - would ignore this and simply devour whatever was on the altar. She had caught a couple, a young husband and wife, and drugged them with a mixture of herbs and powders from her own collection. She had not killed them, but the couple would sleep for days for she had a plan. Nayan would consume them both, greedy as he was, but the drug would affect him for a certain period of time. Surely enough, Tsajasuna descended the tomb a day after her child. She had found him in a daze, slouched over the altar, surrounded by bloody clothes and snapped bones and covered in blood that kept him stupefied. It was then that she carved the runes into his eyes and onto his flesh.

Even for one as old as she, it was a harrowing and upsetting experience. Nayan shrieked and wailed as she hewed them onto his body, crying constantly and asking her why. Over and over and over. The runes were incredibly complicated, shapes that were drawn again and again over each other, interlinked with more yet, and had to be perfectly and minutely etched. Runes must be perfect, or they shall not work. Sometimes, Nayan's agony was too much and Tsajasuna would make a mistake. Only to have to undo it and try again. Everytime, he would foam at the mouth or his eyes would roll back into his head in throes of pain. For Nayan was a creature of magic, and so it affected him to a much greater degree than others. It had taken her three days and three nights to finish. Afterwards, Tsajasuna had gone to touch Nayan, only for him to flinch. The action was involuntary, but he had never flinched at her touch before.

For the first time in many years, Tsajasuna wept real tears on the third night after she was finally finished. The thought of Nayan flinching, of him shaking on the floor, curled up like a dying dog, gave her a feeling that she couldn't bear. Her fur had been almost ruined by his blood, black blotches burned onto her skin. That is what spurned her to seek out a real treasure for him, as way of an apology. Some inner voice told her to not be foolish, that it didn't matter whether the golem lived or died in agony. That it should be happy for experiments to be performed on it, but her heart would not stop aching.

Nayan dropped the book instinctively, and it fell down onto his lap. His eyes turned white as the memories of the whole affair flooded back, signalling a frenzied emotional state.

"Please, child. Nayan knows his mother cried tears just as he did."

She bent forward and cupped his face with her paws, wiping her thumbs over the smooth surface of his cheeks. His dead eyes looked at hers - she could see her own brilliant green pupils reflected in them. Nayan blinked, his irises turning blue once again. Tsajasuna smiled, her fangs flashing happily. She leaned back in her chair and smiled.

"Ah, very good, child! What a good child Nayan is for calming down, yes, that is why Tsajasuna has brought him...this magical tome!"

Tsajasuna wasn't very good at platitudes, but she tried her best. Nayan was not allowed to practice magic - not yet anyway - so his eyes once again filled with some kind of happiness. A minute smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he picked up the book once more, rifling through its pages.

"What magic, m-mother? What do I do?"

"Hold your hand out over a page, Nayan, and think of the name this one has given you. See it in your mind."

Nayan did as he was told, and held out his hand over a blank page. He closed his eyes, as he thought of his own name.

N-a-y-a-n.

Tsajasuna watched eagerly as some scratched, black letters began to etch themselves onto the page. The old cat was determined to teach her progeny how to read and write, but Nayan's rate of learning was incredibly slow. One particular difficulty were his claws - their long and blunt shape made it almost impossible to write with any fluidity, and the boy-thing often ended up rotting the pencil through after nicking it one time too many with the blunt edges. Tsajasuna had decided to skip the charade altogether.

"This cub must use magic to get around this. Magic is to be respected, child - but also to be exploited."

Nayan opened his eyes, and the biggest smile he'd ever cracked spread across his dainty face. He held the book up to Tsajasuna's face.

"Look, mother! I w-wrote a word!"

"Hmm, very good, child. However, this one does not know of a child named "Nan"."

Nayan's face furrowed, as he stared at his work. Tsajasuna barely moved her hand, and the word "Nayan" eloquently wrote itself underneath. The boy-thing gasped audibly.

"Nayan now has no excuses not to work on his writing now. He will start his lessons tomorrow, and Tsajasuna shall be his teacher."

"O-oh, ok...mother."

"Look again in the box, child, there is another gift for you."

Nayan immediately rifled through the box, feeling something soft. He pulled out a small, stuffed doll, his ebony claws wrapped around it. He turned it over, seeing that it was wearing a black dress, with little blue eyes and white hair. It had a stitched zig-zag mouth.

"This one may be a brilliant witch, but she is useless with needles. Tsajasuna made that for Nayan, after many weeks spent in inns and camps as she travelled. This one knows Nayan holds a love of dolls, so it was made in her cub's image."

Nayan was silent, but stared at the doll fervently. Even then, with an infantile mind, he knew he would treasure the doll forever.

"This is...so pretty."

"As it should be, child. As it should be."