The Vampire & Her Witch

”Thank you,” Ashlynn said, setting a hand on Jacques’ scaly forearm and giving him a genuine smile as his gentle, protective energy washed over her, washing away not only the traces of their aggressive sparring, but a good measure of the fatigue she felt as well.

The wounds she’d suffered weren’t light and knowing that he had to feel the same pain she felt in order to heal those wounds, she worried that accepting his healing might impose too great a burden on the scaly witch. Seeing him quietly endure, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for pushing things so far in their recent sessions.

”I didn’t hurt you too badly when I hit you with the staff, did I?” Ashlynn asked, worried that she might have done more damage than she meant to when she struck his arm. They might be able to heal and recover quickly but all of these things still hurt immensely and the strain on their bodies from the frequent use of healing magic wasn’t light either.

”Just enough to turn my arm numb, Auntie,” Jacques said, waggling his fingers as though it wasn’t a big deal. In truth, he planned to heal his own arm once he finished with Ashlynn because even a few minutes later, he still hadn’t regained feeling in his fingers, but he didn’t want her to think that he couldn’t match up to her strength in their sparring sessions.

It was clear to Jacques that Ashlynn’s power exceeded what he could gather. She had the support of every tree in the Briar, whether they were sandbox, cypress, willow or anything else. For Jacques, he could only draw a fraction of the power that he could get from a sandbox tree from any other tree in the forest.

Normally, that would be enough and he frequently managed to keep up with Talauia when she drew on the strength of countless thistles in the briar. But against Ashlynn, even though it had only been a few days, she was already beginning to feel similar to fighting the Mother of Thorns.

As soon as Jacques finished with his healing, Ashlynn crossed the short distance to the stone circle where Heila lay sleeping.

Each day, Heila’s face showed greater signs of strain as she struggled to meld with the power of the seed of witchcraft and the Ancient Willow tree. At times, she tossed and turned violently in her sleep, crying out in pain or fear. Now, her eyes were screwed tightly shut and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she fought against the effects of the witchcraft coursing through her body.

”It’s been six days,” Ashlynn said, fetching a cool wet cloth and wiping away the sweat on Heila’s brow. ”Was it like this for you?” Ashlynn asked, turning to look at Jacques.

”Not dis bad, Auntie,” he said, shaking his head. ”I’m not talented de way big sister Tala is,” he said. ”She only took three days, but I took five. Dis... dis goes farther den I’ve seen.”

Six days. According to Amahle, it took at least three days for the roots of the seed to spread through a witch’s body. Those roots would follow along the veins and arteries of the body, forming an entirely new network through which the energy of the world could flow and binding the witch to the world just like a tree planted in the soil.

Beyond three days, however, the ’roots’ grew strong enough to draw energy from the body of the would-be witch. The more they fed, the greater the chance that they would consume the witch, bursting forth into a different sort of magical plant that contained a remnant echo of the person the seed had sprouted from.

Six days had already passed while Ashlynn and Jacques took turns watching over her and practicing to fill the time and take their minds off of Heila’s struggle. Three more days. From all of the records Amahle had ever seen, any witch who failed to meld with the power of the world and the seed of witchcraft within their body after nine days had no hope of becoming a witch.

”I wish there was a way for me to help her with this,” Ashlynn said, her voice thick with frustration and helplessness as she knelt next to her friend. ”I’m supposed to be the Mother of Trees, to be her mother in the coven,” she said. ”How is it that a mother isn’t able or allowed to help her daughter when it matters most?”

”Dis is de way of tings,” Jacques said, taking a seat opposite her and gently stroking a finger along the curve of Heila’s horn. ”It’s harder when you use de power from an Ancient Tree because she’s not just your daughter, she’s also the daughter of de Ancient Willow. She has to face de trails from dat flow from your power and from de tree.”

”I should have waited and grown a seed the right way,” Ashlynn said bitterly. ”This is my fault for trying to rush things too much.”

”Auntie,” Jacques said softly. ”It ain’t dat way. It ain’t dat simple. Maman, she had to do de same ting for me wit’ de Bloody Sandbox Tree. Dis, dis was de best choice you could make at de time, non? So don’t be so hard on yourself right now.”

Seeing the way Ashlynn had all but tortured herself with intense training these past six days, with each day growing harsher than the one before it, Jacques’ heart couldn’t help but ache at the way this was tearing her up.

He didn’t know what it had been like when Amahle had to wait for him to pass his trial but seeing Ashlynn’s anguished face as she looked at the sleeping Heila, he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the care and kindness he’d been shown when Amahle made a seed of witchcraft for him.

”Come back to us, Heila,” Ashlynn whispered into the diminutive woman’s ear. ”We’re waiting for you to show us how amazing you are. And even if you aren’t,” Ashlynn said softly. ”I’m still waiting for you to come back.”

”I need you,” she said, gently stroking Heila’s sweat soaked curls. ”I need my friend back more than I need a witch beside me. So come back to me soon, Heila. Come back to me soon.”