The Vampire & Her Witch

A chill settled over the hall as five soldiers from the Black Wolf Brigade stepped forward, each of them carrying a sealed case that contained one of the ancestral horns containing the last remnants of the greatest Frost Walkers of their respective eras. Carefully, working on one case at a time, the soldiers removed thick locks and heavy chains that secured each of the cases, opening it to reveal the icy horns within.

At the center of the row of horns stood a powerful horn twice as thick and half again as long as any other in the collection, radiating a powerful and oppressive chill that momentarily froze the breath of the men opening the cases.

The horns that followed were each distinct, ranging from slender and delicate with a soft, snowy presence to one so small it could have belonged to a young child, surrounded with a pure, almost innocent energy that made the heart feel lighter just to stand near.

Yet for all of their differences, each of the horns radiated the same sense of power and majesty, instantly commanding reverence from the Frost Walkers in attendance. Opposite the Frost Walkers, however, Heila and Talauia stepped forward instantly, raising their wands to ward off the powerful influence of the horns and shielding those behind them from the whispers that tickled the back of their minds.

On her icy throne, Ashlynn shifted slightly as pain flared along her skin where flesh that had yet to recover from extreme frostbite grew even colder under the pressure emitted from the horns. They hadn’t felt this... overwhelming when she first encountered them, nor when Hauke wore them, but now that they had been given an opportunity to strengthen themselves, it was clear that the horns contained even more power than they’d first realized.

”Kiss of the Void,” Nyrielle intoned, raising her hand and releasing a surge of dark energy that swept over the horns. ”Fading Presence.”

The moment her energy collided with the horns, a formation of ice crystals began to shimmer into existence before them, momentarily pausing the advancement of Nyrielle’s dark power. The layer of ice lasted for less than a heartbeat, shattering under the force of Nyrielle’s assault and leaving the horns defenseless against the oppressive sorcery that robbed the horns of their powerful, majestic auras.

People on both sides of the great hall sat with mouths agape at how instantly the Harbinger of Death had suppressed the powerful horns. But then, moments later, the Frost Walkers shuddered in a different kind of horror as they realized how close they had come to bowing before the majestic relics of their ancestors, all but prostrating themselves in supplication to the heroes of old.

”Now you all see what Hauke endured in order to learn from these ’revered ancestors,’” Nyrielle said with a voice filled with admiration for the young Frost Walker’s endurance. ”How many of you could have faced all five of them for weeks and months on end, just for the chance to learn something that might be of use to your nation?”

”I can see now why he kept secrets,” Odette said, trembling in her seat. If this power had been directed at her, or Ritchel... or any of the elders on the council, she didn’t believe for a moment that they could have resisted it. ”He must have thought he was sheltering us from them...”

”Whatever he thought, and whatever his reasons were,” Nyrielle said. ”It is a fact that he endured more than most of you will ever understand in order to seize an opportunity. An opportunity that nearly cost him his life more than once. Do not forget the risk he took in dealing with these ancestors, or the reason why he did it.”

”We will remember,” Old Svenja promised as she struggled to regain her composure. As the woman who knew the ancestors better than anyone, she thought she understood the power of the ancestors. But, compared to these five horns, the power of every horn gathered in five separate ancestral caves couldn’t compare, not even by half!

”Good that you will remember,” Nyrielle said with a slight smile directed at Ashlynn before she turned to face the horns. ”Relics of the past, you stand before the Harbinger of Death. You stand convicted of high crimes against the High Pass Nation, of conspiring to possess the heir to its throne and to plunge the world back into an age of ice.”

”Because of your actions, dozens have died and dozens more have been severly injured,” Nyrielle continued in a voice that carried the dark condemnation of the grave with every word, stilling the hearts of everyone who listened to her speak. ”Ritchel, Lord of the High Pass, fell because of your schemes and Hauke, his heir, remains trapped by your curse. These crimes can never be forgotten or forgiven.”

Pressure mounted in the hall as Nyrielle stood from her throne, extending her dark wings behind her and enveloping half the Great Hall in a darkness deeper than the sky on a moonless night. Shadows bent and twisted around her hand, forming a long handled executioner’s ax that dripped with midnight blue energy.

”As the Harbinger of Death, I condemn your souls or watever remains of them to the depths of the void,” she said formally, striding forward to the waiting row of horns. The instant she moved, the soldiers standing beside the boxes quickly moved aside, leaving Nyrielle alone at the base of the dais, directly confronting the horns.

”Your Eternity, please wait!” Old Svenja cried when she realized what Nyrielle was about to do. ”Right or wrong, they are our most honored ancestors. May we... may we have a moment to send them off? To thank them for all they have done for us while they lived and for the centuries they endured as immortal guardians? We, their descendants, owe them that much at least...” she said, her voice growing weaker and quieter to the end as she saw the darkness in Nyrielle’s eyes turn toward her.

”Grant them this moment, my love,” Ashlynn said from her icy throne as she felt Nyrielle’s heart begin to tremble with irritation at the interruption. ”Whether the ancestral spirits deserve it or not is irrelevant. Old Svenja has served her people well for many decades and has the right to ask for this boon. We can grant them a few moments to pay respects to the people these horns once belonged to, even if they have been twisted into something that no longer deserves those honors.”

What Ashlynn said was true but it wasn’t the only reason to grant them this moment. The Frost Walkers were losing too much after the fall of Ritchel and Hauke along with several of their greatest sorcerers. At the moment, Svenja had asked for a small moment of dignity, something so easy to grant that Nyrielle would barely have to lift a finger to grant their wish.

If Nyrielle denied that request, she could assert her dominance over the Frost Walkers, proving once and for all that she intended to reshape them into something new that obeyed her authority in the wake of Ritchel’s removal as Lord of the High Pass. But if she gave ground now, the message she sent would be something different entirely.

”Then I will indulge you, Svenja,” Nyrielle said, temporarily withdrawing her dark energy and stepping back from the horns. ”But I will not release the binding of the void. Left unchecked, I cannot say what sort of new tragedy they might provoke.”

Moving slowly, both out of reverence for the ancestors and fear of Nyrielle’s menacing presence, Old Svenja gathered up the Frost Walkers who wished to pay respects to their ancestors and brought them to face the horns.

Some, like Darfrir and the young men who followed him, held themselves back, casting dark looks at the relics of the ancestors who had upended their lives. Most of the Frost walkers in the Great Hall, however, nearly two hundred in total, gathered behind Old Svenja to lower their horns in respect to the relics of the ancestors.

In a fleeting, ephemeral space hastily woven together by the weakest and smallest among the horns, five spirits gathered to witness what looked like the final subjugation of their once mighty empire.

”So this is how it ends,” Ansgar said in a voice that dripped with scorn and disdain for the people prostrating themselves before them. ”Thousands gathered to mourn the day I sacrificed my horn to guard our people. Now, even brats refuse to lower their horns in our honor.”

”Do you regret it, my love?” Ines said, pressing her body up against the towering figure of the mightiest High Lord of the Seven peaks. ”Do you regret trying to lift them up again?”

”Regret is a useless thing to fill your heart with at the end,” Kimsel said, shaking her head at the lovers who had never known the softness of eachother’s fur in life. ”We have done all that we could. Now, they are on their own.”

”Not entirely on their own,” Eraric said with a complicated expression as he gazed out at the bowing Frost Walkers. ”The relics we’ve left behind may still be of use to young Hauke. There will be a chance for our people to rise again if he manages to overcome my binding. If he does that, he should have the strength to lift our people up again.”

”Not as high as we would have,” Ansgar said as he wrapped an arm around Ines and pulled her close. ”The world we’d have created... he could have ruled like an emperor. Now, the best he can manage is to hug the thighs of vampires and witches, hoping for scraps from their table.”

”Any different, were we?” Eugen asked softly as he watched the assembled Frost Walkers withdrawing, giving way before the dark presence of the Harbinger of Death. ”For Shubnalu’s plans, much did we do. But here at the end, where is our master? Our sacrifice, has he really honored it?”

”One to rule and one to serve,” Ines said, repeating the Fangs’ of Death’s ancient promise. ”Perhaps one day the ones he took will come to avenge what happened here.”

”Whether they come or not,” Ansgar said, turning to gaze one last time at Ines’s cool beauty. ”At least we were able to...”

”Kiss of the Void. Oblivion’s Embrace,” Nyrielle said, swinging her ax in a wide horizontal arc that severed the horns cleanly in two, shattering the fragile space that allowed their spirits to connect for one last time and sweeping everything that remained of the once mighty Frost Walkers into the darkness of the void.

Perhaps, if Ashlynn’s Heavenly Shores truly existed, then what little remained of Ansgar, Ines, Eraric, Kimsel, and Eugen would be born again someday to make their way toward the land of light far to the west. But in this life, all they had earned from her was an eternal slumber in the infinite void that lay beyond death.

After what they had done to Ashlynn, it was the most merciful fate she could grant them and more than they deserved by far!