The Vampire & Her Witch

Standing in the middle of the shattered battlefield, Nyielle gently stroked Ashlynn’s hair while cradling her lover close to her chest. Her heart ached at the wounds that had begun to bleed again after Ashlynn’s second use of the Holy Flame Blade melted away the ice that froze them shut.

”Why must you be like this, my darling?” Nyrielle whispered to her sleeping lover. ”Why must you push yourself to your absolute limit every time?” She had been like this when she was training with Thane, pushing her body until she was too weak to stand or hold a sword at the end of her sessions. She was like this when she spied on Owain, killing one night after interrogating him and fighting a duel to the death with another one. And she was like this still, placing her own life in the greatest danger rather than risk the lives of others.

Moving with a speed that was too fast for almost anyone present to follow, Nyrielle vanished from the place where she stood, appearing next to Zedya and Ignatious in the blink of an eye.

”My darling is infecting others,” Nyrielle said with a sad smile as she reached out with one hand to cup Zedya’s face, gently wiping away a trace of blood that had spilled from her progeny’s eye. ”Is Heila following in her footsteps too? Were her wounds so serious?” she asked, turning to Ignatious, who held Heila in much the same way that Nyrielle was holding Ashlynn.

”She tended her own wounds before tending mine,” Ignatous said, lowering his head in shame at how much it had taken for Heila to rescue him from himself. ”Without her blood, I would have fallen to my own sword and without her healing, I could never have used it to free Lady Ashlynn from the ice. She didn’t do it for me,” he added, giving the diminutive witch a sad smile. ”She did it for Lady Ashlynn.”

”As is proper,” Nyrielle said, gently brushing aside one of Heila’s curls to confirm the young witch’s condition for herself. She was exhausted and had given more blood than someone her size should have, but her heartbeat was strong and steady even if her body was greatly depleted.

”But we shouldn’t put them in positions where they have to,” she added, returning her hand to Ashlynn’s back and pulling her lover closer as if she was afraid that she would slip away if she didn’t hold her tightly.

”Thistle Witch,” Nyrielle said, turning to face the woman holding Ritchel hostage and speaking in a voice that was loud enough to reach the men on the walls as well as the head of her army. ”Captain Lennart will send men to take your prisoner into custody. Will he die if you leave his side?”

”He won’t die, he won’t die now that I’ve taken back my poison,” Talauia said, though a trace of bitterness colored her voice. Leaving a defeated lord alive was an invitation to disaster but she couldn’t kill him, no matter how much she wanted to.

”Auntie Ashlynn, Auntie Ashlynn wants him alive,” the thistle witch explained. ”She wants him to remain Lord of the High Pass too,” she added, with wings drooping in defeat.

”Alive, I can grant, at least for now,” Nyrielle pronounced as a pair of powerful Tuscan mercenaries came trotting across the frozen ground to retrieve the injured lord. ”Whether he retains his throne or not is a question for tomorrow night. In the meantime, your Auntie Ashlynn needs a healer. Can you help her?”

”Help her? Of course, of course I can help her,” Talauia said, roughly dropping Ritchel’s body on the frozen ground and flying to Nyrielle’s side as quickly as she could. While Ritchel still managed to cling to consciousness, after his body was ravaged by the Thistle Witch’s poison, every muscle was as limp as wet rope, and he fell in an undignified heap before the Tuscans could arrive to carry him away.

”Zedya, take care of my beloved,” Nyielle said, gently handing Ashlynn over now that another witch had arrived who could do more for her wounds than simply blocking the pain. She hated doing it, and her hand lingered over Ashlynn’s body for a moment before she forced herself to turn away. Her love had delivered her victory while Nyrielle herself had chased after shadows. Now, it was her turn to make all of Ashlynn’s pain and suffering in this tragedy worth something.

Slowly, Nyrielle locked away the warmth that she felt for Ashlynn and everyone under her command, concealing them behind the cold, expressionless mask she’d worn so often when she and Ashlynn first met. Not only Ashlynn but many others who followed her had paid in blood for this victory, and if she wanted to reap the best harvest for their efforts, she couldn’t face their defeated foes as an ordinary person in a position of power.

Instead, when she turned to face the Frost Walker fortress, she projected the full might of the Harbinger of Death, the unfeeling reaper who had come to collect what she was owed.

”Lord Ritchel is incapacitated,” Nyrielle said, pitching her voice to reach the walls of the Frost Walker fortress. ”Young Lord Hauke has fallen in battle,” she added, looking at the unmoving figure who stared blankly at the sky. ”Who will speak for the High Pass to arrange your surrender?”

”We do not surrender!” Commander Jannik shouted from atop the walls, his dark furred form standing out starkly among the other Frost Walkers. His voice shook as he spoke, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself as he faced the intimidating figure of the Harbinger of Death, firmly reminding himself that no matter what his racing heart felt like, she couldn’t simply reach across the chasm and snuff out his life.

”I am Jannik, Commander of the hunters and warriors of the High Pass and I will speak for us in Lord Ritchel’s absence,” he shouted. ”The High Pass and the Vale of Mists have always been allies, and whatever happened here, it changes none of that! But we have wronged you,” he added, swallowing his pride and refusing to look in the direction of the fallen Frost Walkers on the wall.

Jannik had no idea who would pay the price for everyone who had lost their lives tonight, but his fists clenched tightly as he forced himself to ignore that question while he searched for a way to ensure that the rest of Nyrielle’s army didn’t descend on them.

Now that Hauke and Ritchel had fallen, even though neither Nyrielle’s progeny nor her witches looked like they could still fight, there were still two more vampires standing atop the walls right now, and who knew how many other strong warriors among her army. And that assumed that Nyrielle herself didn’t raise a hand against them. No, there was no victory to be had in fighting, so Jannik could only attempt to maintain their right to rule the High Pass while lowering their horns in defeat.

”We would have welcomed you with open arms and a grand feast but for the actions of a few who caused all this,” Jannik said with a pointed look in Hauke’s direction, though whether he directed his glare at Hauke or the collection of iridescent horns piled on the ground beside him was impossible to say. ”Now, we welcome you still, though the feast will have to wait until we resolve all this.”

”Your open arms are insufficient,” Nyrielel said coldly. ”Your empty hands and an empty wing of your fortress are required. Our people will not mingle with yours until the sun sets tomorrow. If my men see so much as a servant approaching our quarters while I sleep, they will slaughter without mercy. Am I clear, commander Jannik?”

”Perfectly clear, Your Eternity,” Jannik said, bowing so low that his horn pointed toward the ground before giving directions to his soldiers to tend to the wounded, and open the gates to receive their ’guests.’

”And Commander Jannik,” Nyrielle added as menacing shadows spilled from her wings, momentarily creating the illusion that she stood at the edge of a terrible abyss that they would all fall into if they defied her orders. ”Let me be clear. The Frost Walkers have fallen tonight. Your lord has fallen, his heir has fallen, and you cannot resist the strength of the army at your gates.”

”Tonight, I will see my people settled and our wounded tended,” she said, as though it was an act of magnanimity that she didn’t march her army forcefully through their gates to occupy their fortress. ”But tomorrow night, when I hold court in your great hall, it will not be as your guest but as your conqueror. Ensure that your people understand the difference.”