Narrative: Into the West WHO: Cressida Hallowfen, mentions of Jack Cavanaugh, Micah Kaden, Davian Rivera, and Ambriel Triádhos WHEN: Sept. 7, during the day and into the evening WHERE: Cressida's bungalow WARNING: Animal death. Not violent, but still feelsy. OOC NOTE: Students in Cress's classes will note that she has not been there since the first day and when asked, they are told she has taken some time away for personal reasons.
If Cressida knew that angels would disrupt the wedding, she would never have brought Lord Byron. Actually, she would've found a way to warn the others too because that day may have only had one casualty, but it was a painful loss to one of her students. She heard how Ambriel skipped classes, but she didn't step in just yet. The mentors of Hydra were to try to help him and get him to class, and if necessary, Ms. Menides would talk with the angel. The angel was no doubt going through a crisis of faith. Cressida's physical state after the fight was considerably weakened.
Part of being Cressida's familiar meant that Lord Byron was connected very closely to her. She could feel him as he could her, and the past few months had given her warning signs of his slowly deteriorating health. Using him to channel magic during the fight only accelerated a long and drawn out process. Lord Byron never slipped into a coma-like state but he rarely moved and would not eat unless Cressida fed the food to him. The bull mastiff would pass soon, and soon he would find himself among the pack that followed the goddess she worshiped. A worthy place for such a faithful familiar.
But still she prayed. Her fingers clutching the pendant she wore around her neck, identifying her as a follower of Hecate. Her hands wrapped around it so tightly sometimes her knuckles went white and her hands would have tremors for a good hour before she finally calmed. Micah had been a pillar of strength, but only for so long. Because eventually Lord Byron would breathe this last breath, and then he would be no more. Having lost a familiar before, Cressida knew the pain that would follow. The empty hollow feeling that would test her resilience and leave her incapable of moving for a few days. The magic the two shared suddenly torn asunder, and Cressida left in a vulnerable and weakened state.
Being a private person she didn't advertise his passing, though she had given word to those that had come to know Lord Byron that he would pass soon. Age and exhaustion attributed to the reasons, and she purposely did not mention the effect the battle had upon him. Especially when word would got to Ambriel and Davian.
Today was the day.
Cressida couldn't coax Lord Byron to walk, but she opened a window to allow a dwindling summer's breeze to sweep in and caress his fur. The dog stared at the window and into the trees, knowing that his time in this realm was coming to an end. Jack and Micah came when they could to help, almost taking turns to be ready for when it was to happen, but they could see that Lord Byron still had a few good hours in him before he would go on. Cressida lay on the floor most of the time, an arm draped over his belly, pulling him against her in a hug. She felt the large rise and fall of his chest as he took in and release the breaths that remained.
Ambriel and Davian arrived shortly after classes ended to say goodbye. Ambriel gave Cressida a hug, knowing that this loss would be tremendous on her. After they left, it was Cressida, Jack, and Micah left with the dog who still lay there with a head on Cressida's lap. Now it was time to wait and as the daylight began to vanish and evening blanketed the land, both Cressida and Lord Byron knew it was time.
In and out the breaths came but they were a little shallower now and Cressida felt the hot tears already warming her face. The ties that bound the two were coming undone. One by one, she felt him slipping away from her, and it only made her clutch him tighter and try to hold on. She whispered prayers, asking in Greek for a few more hours. At the moment Lord Byron breathed his last breath, as the last tie came undone, and as his great heart beat its last thunderous beat, Jack faded into the other realm. This informed Cressida through bleary eyes that it was over and Lord Byron was no longer there.
A moment or two later Jack returned and saw Cressida clutching the still figure of her familiar, sobbing into it and wrapped around her was Micah, holding her. Cressida didn't know for how long she cried, or at what point she lost consciousness, or even if one was caused by the other, but it didn't matter. Lord Byron was gone. Micah lay her in her bed and for the next few days would likely trade off with Thérèse and Jack to check in on her. The first week after a familiar's passing was always the most difficult. Cressida was weak physically and magically, after all. Magic was who she was and a part of her life, and now she was limited. Not cut off almost completely the way Barclay had been, but definitely not at full strength. Eventually she would find herself another familiar, but she wasn't emotionally prepared for that yet.
She lost a familiar and a friend today. The friend that supported her through the disappointing end of an engagement and followed her around the world as she expanded her knowledge of magic. He followed her here and found a home in a place she'd once called a home for four years. Cressida would find the strength to get out of bed to give him the burial he required, performing the rituals needed to show gratitude to Hecate for caring for him. Cressida would find comfort in knowing that Lord Byron was now part of the same pack as Argos. And she trusted the witch goddess with them.