Eyes

She almost doesn't recognize him at first. He is thinner and more muscular, but it is not just that. There is something in his manner that has changed. He strikes her as…stiller, somehow, less arrogant, quieter.
 
“Hello, Father,” Peg greets him warmly. Here his eyes take on a look that is not new, but that she is still not used to seeing. It is the fatherly look of love that she remembered from her childhood. It is a look that carried her through many darker moments. She smiles at him as they embrace.
 
Karl Jaeger looks over his daughter. They have not seen each other since she burned the estate and he ended his pact with Gertrude. His gaze is so intense and long that Peg shifts uncomfortably before it breaks.
 
“You look well, Rosenknospe.” He says, finally. “Happy.”
 
She can't help the smile that spreads across her face. She is, she realizes, very happy.
 
“The Esch boy has managed to stay in your favor, then?” Peg starts to prickle. It is the type of question that would have been directed at her with disdain, but she realizes that is not what this is. There is something in her father's voice, but it is not disdain. She is not sure what it is, but she does not feel she must defend herself against it. She nods.
 
“Very much so.” She replies.
 
Her father nods. “Your last letter noted seriousness in your relationship.”
 
She runs her hand over the flower of garnets and diamonds on her finger, twisting the gold band. She takes a deep breath and holds her hand out for him to see. Karl takes his daughter’s hand and looks at the ring it bears. Peg cannot read his expression. Her desire to pull back her hand, to protect herself, her heart, and her love from whatever comes next is strong. The moment seems to drag out interminably before Karl lets her hand go.
 
“It is beautiful, my child. You have my congratulations and my blessings.” He kisses her cheek.
 
She blinks in surprise and then hugs him tightly. “Thank you, Father.”
 
“You would have gone on without it, I am certain.” His voice is not chiding or judgemental, simply stating fact. She nods.
 
“Yes,” is her quiet reply. “But we would like you to be there.”
 
“Your brash young man can wait for this?” He asks, his voice serious, but hinting at some amusement. Peg smiles at the description of Aloysius.
 
“My ‘brash young man' is terribly smitten and will do as I ask of him.” She smirks before her expression softens. “And family is important to him. He would like you there as well.”
 
Karl’s look is thoughtful, but he smiles. “I do not know what this new life will hold for me, but I will see that I am there for your wedding. My only daughter.”
 
Peg frowns softly. “Your last letter was not as informative as one might have hoped. What is it exactly that you are doing?” She asks.
 
“I did not wish to say too much that could be seen by other eyes,” he replies. “I have been training, as you know, since we parted ways last. You opened my eyes, Margarete, to what I had done and, more importantly, to what I had become. You asked me to do better, to find a way to help. This is what I am doing.”
 
Peg listens to her father speak, her lips forming into a soft, proud smile. He continues.
 
“I am taking the Oath of the Watcher to become a Paladin to Caelus.” Her eyebrows go up slightly. “The reason that I sent for you has to do with my trial to take the oath and join the Order of the Open Eye.”
 
She tilts her head, curiously. “The Order of the Open Eye?”
 
“It is a sect devoted to protecting the mortal realms from the influence of the Fey creatures that would seek to disrupt and harm it.” He replies. It takes a monumental force of will for Peg not to react. The voice in her head screams. How long would it be before this new path set her and her father against each other? The Paladin of The Order of the Open Eye and his Hexblood daughter…who had thought more than once to help the hags. She pushes the thoughts and feelings down, as deep as they will go…and deeper yet.
 
She gives him a nod to go on. “I have been tasked with finding and destroying a hag that has been roosting in a small village along the border here to free the people of the village from her evil influence.” Karl’s voice has an edge to it, not of anger, but of determination. Peg looks at her father, thoughtfully.
 
“Father, I…” she trails off, the emotion catching the words in her throat. Karl touches his fingers gently to his father’s cheek. “Will you help me in this task, my child?” He asks. Peg nods, mutely, not trusting her voice.
 
The next several hours of the day are spent over tea and sandwiches, with Karl sharing his knowledge about the hag and the village in which she has taken up residence. Peg asks some about this, more about his journey to becoming a Paladin. He talks about vigilance, loyalty, and discipline. He speaks of being alert to the corruption of otherworldly threats, of never accepting gifts of favors from those who truck with the creatures he stands against, of being a shield against the endless terrors that lie beyond the stars. He speaks with pride, with purpose. She sees her father as the noble he should always have been…driven to help others, to protect them, to shine light in the world. She sits there listening, his daughter, filled with shadow, drawing power from otherworldly forces she does not truly understand. Somewhere in her mind, she longs for her mother to be there to tell her how awful she is, how worthless, to give her something to fight against. But across the table was only her father, eyes shining with purpose and pride. She loses his words in the noise of her own mind.
 
 
“...my inspiration.” They come crashing back, his fingers on her cheek, fatherly pride in his eyes. She catches his hand and squeezes it before letting go.
 
You are making a mistake. This is a mistake. I am a mistake.
 
Emotions are pushed away. There is a task at hand.
 
 
 
The journey to the village takes some time, but is largely uneventful. Karl and Peg are both quiet, content to focus on their shared task, except when Peg inevitably gets bored and entertains herself by plucking items from her father’s bag with her mage hand. He is not amused. She settles for picking flowers as they ride. The two of them do encounter some ruffians on the road, but the bandits are quickly dissuaded from their worse intentions.
 
Finding the hag proves harder. It is clear she has been living among the villagers and they do not know there is a hag among them. Several frustrating days are spent about town, talking with people and trying to gather information or any clues. It is not until they learn of nightmares the townsfolk have been experiencing that they are able to begin putting clues together. The hag, it seems, has been posing as a human woman by the name of Beatrice who has been offering her services as a healer. It seems this has given her a great deal of access to the people of the town, especially once the nightmares began afflicting them.
 
“Create a problem, and then offer yourself as a solution.” Karl makes a disgusted expression. “It isn’t a new approach, but it is effective.” Peg nods. The duo does not have to wait long for nightfall. Peg and her father wait near the house where “Beatrice” lives. When the sun fades from view, they approach. Peg can sense the hag inside. They move quickly and, if not precisely quietly, then at least stealthily enough not to arouse suspicion from the townspeople in their homes. There is a side door to the house, which opens into a small and mostly hidden alley. Their examination of it reveals that it is magically trapped. Karl breaks the sigil and nods to Peg. She opens the door…and it quickly becomes apparent that they missed something. A net drops down from the top of the doorframe, snaring Peg. She falls forward and is caught in the net. Karl’s sword is out immediately.
 
“Tut, tut.” A voice chides from a doorway further inside the house. The hag, in her human form, leans against the doorframe. “Paladins,” she scoffs.
 
“I am not a paladin.” Peg growls, flame burning through the net as she scrambles to her feet. The hag’s eyes grow wide as she shifts to her true form and a predatory grin spreads across her face. “So I see.” She cackles and a ray of magic shoots from her hands at Karl. The Paladin dodges quickly out of the way, and the magic harmlessly impacts the wall behind him. The movement sets him enough off balance that he is unprepared to return an attack and the swing of his sword goes wide. Peg, now on her feet once more, focuses her attention on the hag attacking her father and sends a psychic lance at her. She makes a sound somewhere between a growl and a laugh, as she takes the damage, but keeps moving. She strikes out with claws at Karl, catching him in the arm. He returns the blow with one from her sword. Peg can feel her magic swelling and burning inside her. She sends three quick blasts of fire at the hag, but while they hit her full on, some of the fire seems to be absorbed into her. Peg is reminded of her connection to the hags, her fire burning and bubbling within her. Her attention is nearly lost from what is going on in front of her, but she manages to focus again, seeing the hag’s claws tear once more into her father, whose sword lights with magic and cuts into the hag in return. Peg’s head pounds. In the light of her father’s sword, her own darkness feels darker. Otherworldly tentacles try to break free from her. She can feel them pushing. She doesn’t want to let them out. Not here with her father. She sends another psychic lance at the hag instead. Still the woman…creature?...keeps moving. But the hurt has thrown her off. She claws uselessly at Karl and he counters the strikes easily, taking the opportunity to cut her with his sword again. Peg knows they are winning the fight on the outside, but she feels like she is losing the one within. Desperately, she sends twinned chaos bolts at the hag, hoping to end things before her father sees her magic in all of its otherworldly hagish glory. The bolts of poison and acid are effective. The hag stumbles, slashing wildly at Karl, and he strikes her down cleanly. He wipes his blade and seathes it, turning to look at his daughter.
 
“You are unhurt?” She doesn’t realize at first that she hasn’t answered, until her father’s face grows concerned. “Margarete. Are you hurt?” She shakes her head.
 
“No, no I am fine.” She manages a smile. “Well done, Father.” He returns the smile and nods.
 
“You as well. It is good to see this part of you.” Is it, Father? She wonders silently. “Come, we need to clean up this mess and inform the town officials of what has occurred.” Peg nods, falling into step with him, glad for him to take the lead on this part, wishing she felt more joy in assisting her father and less…what was it? Fear? Guilt? Shame.
 
The Order of the Open Eye would have its newest Paladin and Peg would be proud of her father. She closes her own eyes tightly, thinking of the eye that Gertrude sought, the path on which her father had placed his feet, and her own role in it all. She opens her eyes again. Whatever comes next, she would go into it with open eyes and a heart that searched for the next right thing.