The Vampire & Her Witch

”... now that I’ve been burned... I’m afraid to walk forward again...”

Maela hated saying it, but if there was anywhere that she couldn’t hide from the truth, it was here. And while she could maintain the polite, polished facade a noblewoman was expected to project, especially a noblewoman whose daughter had risen to such heights, she could hardly dissemble in front of a High Inquisitor.

And in this case, she didn’t want to mask the conflicted contents of her heart, not from one of the few people in the Vale who might be able to help.

”I don’t think you’re afraid to walk forward again,” Ignatious said in a gentle, reassuring tone that felt at odds with his office as an Inquisitor. But then, was he even an Inquisitor anymore? If he was, he certainly wasn’t like any Inquisitor that she had ever met.

”When the Great Prophet called for his followers to walk across coals to reach him, Gareon moved with the decisiveness of a Swordsman,” Ignatious acknowledged. ”He never doubted, never retreated, never flinched.”

”But if you remember the tale, you know that not everyone made it across the coals on their first attempt,” he reminded her. ”And even those who were thought to be the strongest, like Kaeso Petilius, had to fight against the desire to leap off the coals to spare themselves from the agony of walking the path the Great Prophet had laid before them.”

”But the Great Prophet’s disciples were all among the greatest people in the world, even before they ascended,” Maela said. ”I know better than to count myself among people like that.”

”Opsia Salinator, the Ascended Minstrel, was a beggar without a land to call home when she met the Great Prophet,” Ignatious said. ”Hardly the sort of person one would associate with greatness. When she tried to cross the bed of coals, what happened to her?”

”She stumbled and fell,” Maela said, shuddering as she imagined the agony the poor woman must have endured. ”She caught herself with her hands and all but gave up. She thought that she’d never play an instrument again. She crawled through the bed of coals because the Great Prophet promised that she would only lose her music if she strayed from the path he’d laid for her.”

”When she reached him, she wept at her loss until the Great Prophet performed a miracle, restoring her flesh and lighting her way,” Maela concluded. ”She is a patron of all who suffer to achieve their dreams. Her story is inspiring, but I’ve never felt a strong connection to her struggle,” she admitted.

Maela knew herself well enough to know that she and the Ascended Minstrel belonged to different worlds. As the daughter of a count, Maela was born into a world of privilege. She had status, wealth, a home, and a family... All things that the Age of Chaos had torn away from Opsia Salinator.

Moreover, despite the tragedy of her life, the Ascended Minstrel was said to have possessed an extraordinary talent for music. In a more stable world, she might have become a famed performer, sponsored by wealthy patrons from across the land. In an era of chaos and strife, however, few lords spent their wealth on entertainers when they needed every snip of tin to fund soldiers, armor, weapons, and fortifications.

Opsia Salinator was born into the world too late to flourish in the Empire of Endless Waves and too soon to find her way among the royal courts of the kingdoms the Great Prophet established. Her story began with tragedy and pain, and only by overcoming it could she become the person she was meant to be.

If anyone in Maela’s family could relate to the Ascended Minstrel, it was Ashlynn, who was born into a world that could never tolerate a witch. The things Ashlynn had suffered were just as harrowing as Opsia’s journey, if not more so...

”My daughter is the extraordinary one,” Maela said. ”When it comes to facing all of this... Ashlynn and Jocelynn... I understand that Ashlynn wants to give Jocelynn a chance to join her as a witch so they can mend the hurts between them, but it’s all happening so fast.”

”Ashlynn has barely had time to see her sister again,” Maela said. ”They’re both acting like their father right now, trying to pull off a grand gesture when what they should be doing is spending the next several months talking to each other and working through their problems gradually,” she said, though her voice sounded less and less confident the more she said.

”Or, at least, that’s what I wish they would do,” Maela said. ”Just the fact that Jocelynn is willing to risk her life like this should be enough for Ashlynn to understand that the love her sister has for her didn’t die. Jocelynn shouldn’t have to go through with the risky thing just to prove that she wants to make it right between them.”

”So you think Ashlynn is asking too much from Jocelynn?” Ignatious asked. He sat still, unnaturally still, watching Maela with his dark eyes as she worked through the tangle of feelings in her heart.

”Yes,” Maela said firmly before softening her tone once again. ”Or not. I don’t know. When Owain told Rhys and me that Jocelynn had been the one to reveal Ashlynn’s mark to him... When he said that her actions were the only reason he wasn’t turning us all over to the Inquisition, I didn’t know what to feel.”

”I thought I’d lost Ashlynn,” Maela said. ”My heart shattered and I wanted to... I don’t even know what I wanted to do to Jocelynn. Disown her. Exile her. Lock her in a corner of Blackwell Manor for the rest of her days... I don’t think I could have brought myself to kill her. She’s every bit as much a miracle to me as Ashlynn was. But what she did...”

”I don’t know how to forgive that,” Maela said. ”And now, Ashlynn is back, Owain is dead, both of them are safe... Why can’t we treasure that before we take any more risks? At least wait until Rhys can join us,” she said.

”Ah, I see the problem. No wonder this feels so hard,” Ignatious said gently. ”It feels like you’ve finally returned to the temple; the lamps are all lit, the walls are safe and secure. There’s danger outside that has to be faced eventually, but there’s time to make preparations, and by the time you’re ready to venture out, the danger might not be as bad as it appears right now,” Ignatious said.

Then, with a flick of his hand, the lamps all snuffed out at once, plunging the tiny chapel into darkness so complete that Maela couldn’t see her own hands, much less the vampire sitting beside her.

Suddenly the room didn’t feel safe at all, and the sound of her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

The pitch-black darkness lasted only for a moment before two small flames, each no larger than a candle’s flame, appeared in the air above the High Inquisitor’s hand, casting a soft, golden glow across a face that faded into inky, black shadows.

”Your daughters aren’t safe, Lady Maela,” Ignatious said, blowing lightly on the flames in his hand, just enough for them to flicker and dance as though they were on the verge of going out.

”Jocelynn has already decided to throw her life away once,” Ignatious said. ”When she decided to risk everything to kill Owain Lothian. At the same time, if Mistress Nyrielle hadn’t stopped her, Ashlynn would have killed her sister within a day of learning that Jocelynn had been the one to betray her.”

”Of all the paths the Holy Lord of Light charts for us across the heavens,” Ignatious said. ”Two of the hardest to turn away from are the paths that involve giving up your own life, or claiming the life of someone who wronged you...”

”You’re saying that they have to do this because they’re too far down these paths to turn back?” Maela said. ”I don’t believe that. No one is ever so lost to darkness that they can’t find their way back to the Light,” she said, repeating one of the foundational truths embraced by the Sisterhood of Confessors.

”It doesn’t matter what you believe,” Ignatious said, blowing out one of the two flames, leaving only a single flame in the darkness.

”It’s what’s in their hearts that matters,” Ignatious said. ”And it’s the beliefs they hold that have led them here, to this moment, and this decision in the hopes that they can both turn away from the paths they’re on.”

”I’m their mother,” Maela said stubbornly. ”If they’re wrong, or just misguided, isn’t it my job to help them find their way to a different path?”

”It is,” Ignatious acknowledged. ”For a time. But at some point, the paths of every parent and child must diverge. You may be able to stay close to them, and one day, you may be able to help guide them again. But the days when you could choose their paths have ended, Lady Maela,” Ignatious said.

”And the surest way to lose them is to fail to recognize that truth...”