The Vampire & Her Witch

”Welcome home, Sir Ollie,” an old woman’s voice said as the villagers began to cluster around the wagon. ”Your people have missed you,” Old Nan chuckled as she walked forward, her intricately carved wooden cane clicking on the stone pavers of the village square as she led the others forward.

”I was only gone for a few days, Old Nan,” Ollie said bashfully, placing a hand awkwardly behind his neck as he realized that even more villagers had paused their evening activities to watch or wander over to the carriage and its occupants. ”Um, this is Lady Ashlynn, the Mother of Trees,” he said, quickly turning to provide introductions.

”And this is Lady Heila, the Willow Witch,” he added as the diminutive witch stepped out of the carriage, followed by Virve’s powerful figure. ”And Lady Virve,” he added. ”She, um, she’ll be the Oak Witch in the future, so please, grant her the same honors you would grant to me.”

”With sap in our veins and splinters in our fur, the people with wood in their hearts honor the Mother of Trees,” Old Nan intoned formally, bowing as deeply as her aging bones would allow her to. Behind her, Milo and the other members of the Heartwood clan fell to their knees, pressing their tails flat on the ground and holding up the tips of their sharp claws in silent supplication.

Members of the other Eldritch clans looked briefly puzzled before they too offered simple bows as appropriate for their own traditions, but it was clear to everyone that a visit by the Mother of Trees meant more to some of their neighbors than they had previously understood.

”You don’t need to lower yourselves so much,” Ashlynn said, striding forward and helping Old Nan to stand upright. ”Tonight isn’t about me, it’s about Ollie. If you’re going to honor anyone, honor him for what he has done for this village,” Ashlynn said, briefly glancing around at the dozens of villagers who had wandered over to the large square.

Ollie had told her that several whole villages had emptied themselves completely to flee from Owain Lothian and Liam Dunn’s attacks this summer but she’d never imagined just how many of those people had come to settle in Ollie’s village. Many had chosen to build homes in the rapidly growing town outside Nyrielle’s ancient fortress, but it seemed like nearly half of the refugees had come here, to the place that he had helped to build.

”You honor us, your Dominion,” Old Nan said, her eyes widening slightly as she spotted a simple wooden hairpin carved to resemble a pinecone among the decorations in the hatband of Ashlynn’s wide-brimmed hat. ”Thank you for accepting Juni’s gift.”

”How could I refuse something made by one of Ollie’s good friends?” Ashlynn said with a twinkle in her eye as she watched Ollie’s awkwardness with the ceremony and the formality of the moment. In time, she was certain that he would get used to navigating these moments with the grace of a man raised to be a knight, but at the moment, she enjoyed seeing this side of him.

”Milo,” Ashlynn asked, turning to the cloaked figure who looked almost as uncomfortable as Ollie in the overly stiff gathering at the village square. ”Is everything ready?”

”It is, your Dominion,” the Heartwood archer said, still feeling stiff and formal even after spending several days with Ashlynn and her coven in Orava village. ”Ollie, I can take you to wash up when you’re ready.”

”Take this,” Virve said, retrieving a neatly tied bundle of fabric and a block of soap that smelled of rich cedar and pine. ”Sir Thane’s instructions said that you should change into this after you wash, before he arrives,” Virve told Ollie as she passed the bundle to Milo to carry.

”I’ll talk to everyone here while you clean up,” Ashlynn said with a playful wink. ”Take your time. The others won’t arrive until the sun has set for at least half an hour.”

”In that case, shouldn’t I stay here until sunset?” Ollie asked hesitantly. ”I can take you on a tour and...”

”Old Nan can take us on a tour of the village,” Ashlynn said, giving Ollie a polite shove. ”Go. The water isn’t getting any warmer while you stall.”

”Yes, my Lady,” Ollie said dejectedly when he realized he’d been caught stalling.

”Come, Sir Ollie,” Milo said, wrapping a strong arm around the taller human. ”The water isn’t even that cold, and the pool we’ve made for you to bathe in doesn’t cycle very swiftly, so it’s warmer than plunging into the stream itself. You’ll be fine, even without a layer of fur to keep you warm,” he said as he guided Ollie away from the village to a private area that Milo had helped build just for tonight’s ceremony.

Tradition in the Kingdom of Gaal dictated that a knight begin their vigil scrubbed clean of the filth of the world that clung to them, preparing themselves to receive the grace of the Holy Lord of Light when they ascended to knighthood. Some knights in modern days turned this act into an opulent and luxurious experience, soaking in hot water while attendants scrubbed them with perfumed soaps before anointing their bodies in scented oils blessed by priests of the Church.

Thane, however, felt that the older traditions should be kept, and the instructions he provided for Ollie’s vigil offered no comforts to the soon-to-be knight. A small dam created a deep pool to one side of a swiftly flowing mountain stream, screened by a simple wall of branches that did more to protect Ollie’s sense of modesty than they did to protect him from the chill evening breeze.

The rich, earthy scent of damp soil mingled with the sharp scent of cedar and the musky sweetness of decaying leaves that had fallen into the water, creating a complex scent that Ollie had increasingly come to think of as ’home.’

If they were closer to the village, the trace of woodsmoke and the smell of roasting meats would have made it perfect, but Milo had prepared his bath far enough away from the villagers that only the croaking frogs and the birds watching from the cedar trees disturbed the pure tranquility of the moment.

”This sounded like a much nicer tradition when Sir Thane described it from the warmth of his office,” Ollie muttered as he stared at the rushing waters of the cold stream tumbling down the hillside before they flowed into the pool that Milo had prepared for him. ”I don’t suppose I can just dunk myself in the water and call it good, can I?” he asked, raising a brow at his furry companion.

”If you do, I won’t tell anyone,” Milo said, setting down the bundle of fabric along with a rough towel before turning to face his young friend. ”But you’ll know, and if you know that you cheated at the start of this journey...”

”I know, I know,” Ollie said as he unbuckled the belt that held both his fighting knives and placed it in Milo’s outstretched paw. ”It’s just cold water,” he said. ”As traditions go, I’m sure there are some that are much, much harder than this,” he said, though he didn’t mention that some of those harder traditions were still waiting for him when it came time for Lady Ashlynn to bestow a seed of witchcraft on him.

For now, he only needed to face the simplest of traditions on his road to becoming a knight. A simple bath. A very, very, very cold bath perhaps, but if he turned back over a little cold water, then he truly didn’t deserve to call himself a knight.

”You know that humans can get sick if we’re in cold water for too long, right, Milo?” Ollie asked as he stared at the frigid water.

”I’ve heard that your skin will turn gray and your lips will turn blue if you’re in the cold for too long,” Milo said lightly, as though it wasn’t a concern. ”If that happens to you, I promise to pull you out and carry you back to the Mother of Trees.”

”Well, when you put it like that,” the young man said awkwardly. ”I guess there really is no reason to put it off any longer. Traditions exist for a reason, right?” Ollie said, looking at his friend and offering a confident smile. ”Let’s show everyone that I can follow in the footsteps of the great knights before me.”