The Vampire & Her Witch

When the trial began again, Ollie wasted no time in putting a new plan into motion. The cypress tree was a powerful guardian and Ashlynn had showed Ollie several ways to harness it’s power but when he compared the offensive might of the witchcraft he’d learned to the power demonstrated by the massed group of Inquisitors, he found it sadly lacking.

”It isn’t that I’m weak,” Ollie realized. ”It’s that my strengths are more suited for defense and counterattacks than offensive actions. More than that, I need time to prepare. Trees don’t grow overnight, and I can’t prepare my army overnight either. I need time...”

He also needed to set aside his desire for revenge. In his haste to strike back against the Inquisitors who had tormented him in his previous attempts to pass the trial, he’d skipped over many of the things he should have done in a bid to cut the head off the serpent, ending things once and for all.

It had been foolish, and he had abandoned his just cause in favor of a violent, aggressive attack that lured men into a deadly trap but failed to do anything to the people responsible for harming the village. Worse, it had done nothing to stop the Inquisition from continuing their assault and eventually reaping the lives of everyone he was supposed to be protecting.

This time, It would be different. This time, Ollie took out everything he had learned from every previous iteration of the trial. He sent men to each of the neighboring villages, asking that they send as many fighting men as they could, while sending craftsmen to create shades for their crops and instructions to begin harvests of crops that couldn’t endure the heat, even if the yield would be lower.

”Old Nan,” Ollie said, presenting himself at the home of one of the people he most admired in the village. Old Nan had lost everything, including one of her two sons, when Owain burned her village to the ground. Despite that terrible loss and bone-crushing grief, she’d taken the few possessions they were able to salvage and pulled herself back up out of the depths of despair to become one of the pillars of the rapidly growing village of refugees.

”Sir Ollie,” the old woman said, her whiskers twitching in surprise. ”You have so much that you are doing in this crisis. What brings you to this old woman’s door now?”

”I, I need you to teach me how to carve wood,” Ollie admitted awkwardly. ”I don’t have strong claws or teeth, but I know how to use a knife delicately,” he said, thinking of the precise knifework that had been required for some of the dishes served at the high table during feasts at Lothian Manor or the Summer Villa. ”It’s just, I’ve never learned to carve wood before.”

”Of course I can teach you, Sir Ollie,” Old Nan said, frowning at the youth as she struggled to understand his request. ”But why now? Do you need to carve something to resolve this crisis?”

”I do,” Ollie said. ”Our enemy is very strong, and they have powerful sorcerers from the Inquisition. If our soldiers are going to survive a clash with them, then they need greater protection than armor can provide,” he explained.

”Generations of Cypress Witches have carved the wood of cypress knees into powerful totems and charms that can protect the bearer from harm,” Ollie added as he saw comprehension dawning on Old Nan’s face. ”I need to make as many of these totems as possible in the next ten days before we attack Lord Owain’s army to break this curse,” he said, pointing at the sun burning in the night sky.

”I see,” Old Nan said, tugging on her whiskers as he tail swished in thought. ”Do you need to do the carving yourself, or can you empower the carving that someone else makes? There isn’t much that an old woman like me can do in the fields in this heat but if you can use these old claws to help keep Milo and his hunters safe...” she said, her voice trailing off as she confronted the very real possibility that she would lose both her sons to the humans in a single year. But if she could help him fight...

”I don’t know,” Ollie admitted as he sank into thought. ”I don’t know, but we can try,” he said moments later. ”If it works, then we can ask Juni and some of the others to help. If I have to do it alone, I’ll never finish enough in time. But, together... together we might just have a chance.”

For the next several days, Ollie labored in Old Nan’s cottage with a series of knives, gouges, and rasps as he labored to create protective amulets that could guard against the flames of the Inquisition. Through trial and error, they discovered that Ollie needed to complete at least half of the work on the amulet himself, and it was best that he did the finishing work.

”When you hold the work piece in your left hand,” Old Nan instructed patiently as Ollie worked on yet another amulet. ”It can be tempting to keep your left hand as still as possible, to make a stable platform while your right hand carves, but you should never do this.”

”Why not?” Ollie asked. When chopping vegetables, the job of the left hand was often to stabalize food and guide the knife but moving your off hand carelessly was a good way to lose fingers when wielding a sharp knife. ”Isn’t it important to keep the work piece stable?”

”Not stable,” Old Nan corrected. ”Within your control. Remember, your right hand, the one that holds the tool,” she said, reminding herself that Ollie was limited by his lack of sharp claws. ”Your right hand is connected to your mind,” she continued, tapping her temple with the point of a claw.”

”Your right hand carries your thoughts, your plans and intentions, all of the things you have chosen to do, your right hand will do them,” she explained. ”But your left hand,” she said, stepping behind Ollie to cup his left hand with hers. ”Your left hand is connected to your heart. It carries your joys and your fears, your dreams and your hopes for the thing that you are bringing into being with your hands,” she said as she adjusted the angle of his left hand slightly.

”But, won’t I ruin the piece if my left hand moves too much?” Ollie said, still puzzled at the instruction.

”When you pull a stubborn cork from a bottle, you twist it with both hands, don’t you?” Old Nan asked. ”The movements of both hands should be small and close to your body. The left hand pulls the work piece into the sharp edge of your claw, or your blade,” she explained. ”It is the combination of push and pull that lets you make a longer, smoother stroke as you remove material.

”More importantly,” Old Nan said, moving her hand to tap Ollie first on the head and then above his heart. ”If both hands move together, the work will carry both your intentions and your hopes. The heart and mind come together in the work. Only then can your presence be felt by those who touch your work.”

”I understand,” Ollie said, tracing a finger along the rough gouge he had made in the work. Perhaps it was because he was doing it wrong when he carved the piece or perhaps it was because he lacked the sensitive claws of the Heartwood clan but the only thing he could feel in the wood was the rough surface and the heat of his hand that had gripped the piece of cypress wood tightly for several minutes, but he didn’t dismiss what Old Nan had to say.

”Maybe this was another of the lessons I was always supposed to find in this trial,” Ollie realized as he continued to process what Old Nan had told him. ”Just how many different lessons did she prepare for me... and how many of them have I been blindly rushing past?”