The Return of Raivyn Elizabeth Palowakski

Little Raivyn and I

I stand in the gardens of my Ballroom Pavillion, with my beloved 98, with a nervous half-hearted attempt to continue my project on my Wiccan Ritual altar, at this point the cauldron. I couldn't keep my mind on my work as the setting sun's rays splashed off of the golden chalice and platten, the silver of the minature Anthame version of Fiochmhar Fearg and the candle sticks sparkling with an uncommon warm amber hue. I wanted to finish the altar and it accoutrements with increased urgency, not only to cure the were of his affliction, but now rescue my daughter, if such an endeavor were possible. I was standing more than working, pacing more than standing, hoping for the best, fearing the worst. We had just earlier before arrived home from Kittiwickshire, after recieving a telegraph from a friend of Doctor Mason's, informing us of a package the doctor wished to deliver to me. As soon as I had arrived at the manor, I had sent my coachman post haste to the Victoria City train station, to pick up the good Doctor on his arrival from parts unstated by him.

But I had known where he was. Having had used my scrying ball earlier, after receiving a tip from a friend, the last I had seen of him was he lying unconsicous in Hades, at the feet of the Nameless One Himself, the Keeper of the Dead, along with his former possessor, Bloodwing, before he had been merged once more with the Demon. But worst of all of it, the Keeper had my own precious daughter, my other child still not cured of Vampyrism, little helpless Raivyn Elizabeth. The Nameless One had charged Bloodwing-Dr. Mason with raising my daughter. I had fainted at the sight, and never saw what more had progressed.

Now trepidation mingled with yearning for succor to my heart-twisted predicament battled within my chest. Filled at times with nervous giggles, and at others with wrenching sobs and stinging tears, I wringed my hands as I once again fumbled and made another mistake with my cauldron. I sighed, frustrated that Doctor had not yet arrived.

"Surely he should be back by now," I thought, while I gave 98 a reassuring if tight-lipped smile.
I don't like people seeing me in weakness, especially my fiance. "You're a Baroness," I reminded myself, "a strong woman of Caledon. Comport yourself as such."

Suddenly I tilted my head, my superior Sidhe ears hearing the distant cloppity clop of Foighne, my carriage horse. I heard Meán-Oíche and Iontaofa whinney their greetings from the stables, and Foighne snort an his answer in return. Shortly I saw Sean drive the carriage up along the rail to the pavillion. With only the gentlest of tugs on the reins, Foighne lived up to her name, and stopped, patiently awaiting her next command. Leaping off the seat as only a youngling could do with dextrous sureness, he quickly doffed his pitchely and bowed to me, before opening the coach door to allow Dr. Mason out.

"Sorry, m'Lady, for the delay, it appears that there was a train wreck once more between The City and the Moors."

I nodded in understanding to the boy, and smiled softly so as to let him know he was not in trouble, then turned my attention to what I felt at this time would be the most important vistor to my estate, even more so than the Guvnah or the Vicereine...considering the circumstances. Helped down by Sean, Dr. Mason descended from the carriage, bundling something protectively in his cloak, to safe-guard it from the night vapours of the mists that began to arise and swirl about malevolently in Moors. A lone wolf howled in the distance, and I shuddered, hoping that the were would not make his presence known at this most momentous of occassions.

The familiar, soft cooing and gurgling I heard emanating from under his garment sent my heart with a thrill. I KNEW the Dr. had my Raivyn, yet there was something different about her voice. She sounded so much more....alive. Dr. Mason bowed deeply with a practiced flourish, while deftly producing little Raivyn Elizabeth to me at the lowest extent of his genuflection, extending her in his arms toward me, an offering made of greater friendship than any could give to a Mother...the return of her own child, the one she swaddled, the one she nursed in her bosom, the one she comforted when the wind howled wild in the wintry nights after Samhain.

It was then that I noticed Raivyn looked different...less pale, less defiled, more pure, more innocent, more like a newborn infant (it should be recalled, that a Vampyre never ages...little Raivyn, though a year and some weeks old, still looked newborn), should look...more alive. And Doctor Mason looked different too. He looked vibrant with life...and with power. My Sidhe senses could almost feel the air crackle with something indefinable, like he was stronger than ever before, and yet more vulnerable than ever before. Clearly there were things which took place of which I was unaware.

"Your Grace," he most courteously announced (he always called me "Your Grace", though I prefer the much more humble "m'Lady", or "Lady Amber"), "May I present and return to you your daughter."

Like the river swollen with the spring rains, whose banks could no longer contain the overflow, tears flowed down my face, washing away the debris of make-up, allowing the light of the soft glow of the after-susnset heighten the unsurpassed natural beauty that is only to be found in that of a mother with her beloved child. I looked at the Doctor with joy, my body trembling no longer from anguish of the soul, but repalced with a spiritual ecstasy I could not expain unless you were a mother whose own child had been endangered, but was returned to you nurturing arms, unharmed and healthy. I was astounded.

"But doctor....how....?" I could not get much more out.

He explained how that he was now both Bloodwing and Dr. Mason, and that each being had half the antidote, that would not work till they were re-merged. That he was now mortal. That he was finally freed from the grips of the Keeper, by renouncing Him, in a surprisingly reverse parallel decision akin to the Keeper's denial of Yah Hawah as recorded in Milton's Paradise Lost . And that by allowing Raivyn to feed off of him, the antidote passed on the child, *my* child, *my* daughter!

"How could I ever repay you," I queried. But in a blink of an eye, he was gone, no answer given.

More powerful indeed, even if now just "merely" mortal.

Now I lay in bed, with Raivyn Elizabeth and Elijah Bastillion contedly suckling, neither desirous of blood, just the milk of life my body willingly, lovingly, desirously gives to them, strengthening them so they may grow. I now owe Dr. Mason three debts, for curing me and my two children of our Vampyrism. And while the invocations to Cth**u used to restore me and Elijah may come back to haunt us both later in our lives, in a way removing a known curse for a possibility of a greater curse later in life, I am pleased to know that at least one scion in the fortune-plagued Bauerhoff family will walk into life unhindered by Vampyrism, lycanthropy, or a Cth**u-come-a-calling! What a way to end the American Independence Day...the Independence of my daughter, Raivyn Elizabeth Palowakski!