The Vampire & Her Witch

A sliver of the moon hung high in the sky as Ashlynn sat in the clearing at the edge of Ollie’s village. Brilliant emerald energy flowed from her hand, gently raining on the flame-haired youth as tears spilled from his eyes and his face contorted in expressions of heartwrenching pain, grief, and occasional moments of rage.

Tonight marked the end of the seventh day of his vigil and the beginning of the eighth. Already, his pale skin had begun to darken, taking on the rough texture of cypress bark while his hands clawed at the dirt, as if he wanted to put down roots in the soft, damp soil near the village pond.

”Is this, is this what it was like for me?” Heila asked, hovering nearby as she watched Ashlynn tending to Ollie. They had been confident that the young man wouldn’t need more than five or six days to pass his trial, but Ashlynn had left clear instructions just in case. If he failed to awaken on the seventh day, she was to be told immediately so she could offer whatever support she could in guiding him through the completion of his trial.

”He’s bold and brave,” Ashlynn said softly. Her eyes were closed, and her cheeks were wet with tears as she connected to the vision she’d created within the seed to guide Ollie through his trial. She’d thought, when she established the terms of his trial, that she’d created a safe path that it would be nearly impossible for the young man to fail, but she’d clearly underestimated his strength and determination.

The Ollie she remembered from their time at the Summer Villa was mischievous and bold enough to sneak into parts of the Villa he shouldn’t have during banquets, just to peek at the knights in their fancy outfits and the beautiful ladies who might be dining with them.

At the same time, there was a timidness to him that had been beaten into what seemed like every fiber of his being, leaving him with stooped shoulders and a back that had bent from constantly bowing and scraping before Lord Owain and noblemen like him.

By the time Ashlynn left the Vale of Mists, Ollie had shown several signs of shaking off that timid, beaten down exterior, particularly when he joined with her and Thane to learn fighting arts, but what she’d seen had only been a glimmer of the man he would grow into under Thane and Marcel’s steady tutelage.

”He can stop whenever he wishes,” Ashlynn explained. ”But he isn’t satisfied, even though he’s come further than I ever imagined when I designed his trial. He wants to do better, to live up to my expectations and the expectations of the rest of the coven.”

”But he knows, doesn’t he?” Heila said, her brows creased with worry as she knelt beside the young man. ”He knows that we only want him to come back to us. He knows we’ll miss him if he doesn’t make it back, doesn’t he?”

”This is a man’s pride, big sister Heila,” Virve’s voice rumbled from where she stood guard nearby. Villagers had begun to gather at the edge of the village overlooking Ollie’s trial since the dawn of the seventh day. In the beginning, many of them had thought that they would witness Ollie’s awakening today, but as day gave way to night and the Mother of Trees arrived to personally tend to Ollie, a dark cloud of worry had begun to form over the crowd of onlookers.

”Ollie is different from you and me in too many ways,” Virve continued as she flexed her claws, still adjusting to the power of the Ancient Oak that sang within her veins and the many other changes that spread through her body after she received the seed of the Ancient Oak. ”You and I are Eldritch, but he is the only human after Lady Ashlynn. You and I received our seeds from Ancient Trees, but he’s received a seed from a normal tree. He’s also the only man in our coven. The pressure that places on him is tremendous.”

”But none of those things matter,” Heila said. ”Mother Ashlynn nurtured his seed for months. It’s just as strong as an Ancient Tree’s seed, and he didn’t have to face any of the... any of the complications that I did,” she said quietly.

She’d meant to say ’Any of the challenges we did’, but when she’d learned that the Ancient Oak had accepted Virve without giving her a trial, it left Heila uncertain about her own trial. Perhaps, if the previous Willow Witch hadn’t meddled with her, trying to force her to become a witch that could only passively heal, her trial would have been as easy as Virve’s had been.

”They do matter, though,” Ashlynn said softly. ”They matter to him. He’s doubted himself for so long and been beaten down so much,” she said as a fresh tear spilled down her cheek. ”He’s struggling to accept when he’s done ’enough’ and when he’s become ’good enough.’ I’m afraid,” Ashlynn said, pausing as her voice caught in her throat. ”I’m afraid that he may get caught in the trap of thinking he’s never good enough to move forward from where he is.”

”This is a man’s pride,” Virve said. ”Sir Lennart was the same way when he and I were still recruits serving under Captain Bassinger. I hear that human families place even more burdens on the shoulders of their men. The oldest man must inherit his father’s position, even if he is the youngest of all his father’s children. Humans expect young men like Ollie to be ready for far too much, far too soon.”

”Is there anything we can do?” Heila asked as she gently stroked Ollie’s flame-red hair, only to snatch her hand back when she noticed the tiniest beginnings of flowers forming among his soft, flame-red locks. ”I’m sure if Virve spoke to him, she could straighten him out.”

”Ollie’s trial is different than yours, Heila,” Ashlynn said as she sank into the world within the seed of witchcraft. ”Because there is no will from an Ancient Tree, the will within his seed is my own, so I can do more for him than I could in your trial. I’ll try to speak to him. Maybe, if I can talk things through with him, I can help him understand how far he’s already come...”

A solemn, pensive mood hung over the witches as they watched Ashlynn sinking deep into the magic of the world that bound her together with Ollie and the seed within his chest.

Sitting nearby, Milo clutched nervously at the figure of an armored knight he’d carefully carved from a piece of a red cedar’s heartwood as he watched and waited for Ollie to emerge from his trial.

Lady Heila had already told him that they intended to cultivate cypress trees in the Vale of Mists for Ollie after he completed his trial, and once one had grown enough to harvest, Milo intended to carve something more fitting for the friend he’d chosen to follow.

For now, however, as he’d watched Ollie’s face exhibit signs of tremendous strain and loss, he’d carved the simple knight out of the wood that was at hand in hopes that the figure could watch over his young friend and protect him from whatever was causing such heart-wrenching suffering.