The Vampire & Her Witch

”Is this how humans do things?” Kaisen whispered, leaning over to Milo since the archer from the Heartwood Clan seemed to be well acquainted with human traditions. ”I thought that their lords named themselves after the places they are from. Is that not the case?”

”It’s the opposite,” Milo said softly. ”They name the places they rule after their ruling families. Their family names have to be earned with great deeds in moments like this, and they pass their glory down to all their descendants.”

Milo hardly considered himself an expert on the subject, but he’d asked several questions of Lady Heila during the days they spent watching over Sir Ollie’s vigil and he’d been surprised to learn how intricate the customs of human nobility were and just how much being a part of the Blackwell family had shaped the Mother of Trees.

Some of those customs still seemed odd to him, but when he realized that Ollie’s title and name were something that he would be able to pass down to his children and his children’s children, it let him see this moment in an entirely different light.

Lady Ashlynn wasn’t just honoring Ollie with the title of ’knight’, she was helping him to establish a legacy that would endure long after his death, and ensuring that a peace of him would endure for generations to come. To bestow such a heavy honor said a great deal about how much the Mother of Trees valued taking care of the common people.

”I have chosen a name, my lady,” Ollie said, looking up at Ashlynn and smiling widely. ”I’ve made many friends in the Vale since coming here, but none have become as close to me or meant as much to me as those from the Heartwood Clan. I may not have sharp claws or teeth, or a powerful tail, but I still feel close kinship with them,” he said, looking over his shoulder to meet the gazes of Old Nan, Milo, and Juni each in turn.

”They say that I helped them,” Ollie said slowly as his vision grew hazy until he blinked away the moisture gathering there. ”But they helped me find a place and a purpose when I felt more lost than even I realized. You will always be my liege lady,” he added quickly. ”And Sir Thane will always be my mentor as a knight.”

”But when I think of ’home’,” he continued. ”I can’t help but think of a door carved with my own hands, and a room filled with treasures that remind me of my closest friends. So, if you will accept it, then I would like to be known as Ollie Heartwood from now on.”

At the table for honored guests, Old Nan stood trembling, her claws biting into the wood of the table as she fought to stay standing while her heart raced within her chest and her tail thumped the ground in ever growing agitation. Next to her, Milo and Juni both reached out to wrap their arms around her as their tails joined hers in thumping the ground rapidly.

Seeing how overcome with emotion the trio from the Heartwood clan were, Achim raised his wooden cup high in the air before slamming it down on the table, tapping it down again and again and again in time with the beat of the Heartwood Clan’s tails. Soon, Kaisen joined him, followed by Helga, Commander Aspakos, and everyone else at the table for the guests of honor. A moment later, the sound of rhythmic thumping of wood on wood filled the air as every table in the hall took up the gesture, proclaiming their approval at the young knight’s name.

”Sir Ollie Heartwood,” Ashlynn said loudly, adding a trace of power to her voice to be heard above the din in the hall. Slowly, people set down their cups, returning quiet to the hall, but this time the mood of the hall had subtly changed. Because of Achim’s simple gesture, the hundreds of people in the great hall were no longer simply observing Ollie’s elevation to knighthood... they were participating in it.

”I think the name suits you,” she said, nodding in acceptance not only at the name but at the deep feelings behind his decision as well. Perhaps she should have questioned it, and a very small voice in the back of her mind wondered if this might become a source of division in his village if people felt he favored one clan over another, but seeing the tears of joy on the faces of Old Nan, Milo and Juni, she couldn’t bear to pay that voice any attention.

Instead, she turned to Thane, who held out a slender, glittering dagger. The weapon had been carved from a deep, ice-blue Frost Walker horn before it was fitted with a hilt carved from the tusk of a Tuscan hunter. When Ashlynn took it from Thane, it felt cool and heavy in her hands, as though it was a piece of ice carved from the mountains of the High Pass themselves.

”This weapon is called ’Frost Fang,’” Ashlynn explained, her voice carrying clearly through the hushed hall. ”It is the twin to your elder sister’s ’Snow Fang’, carved from the horns and tusks of enemies defeated in the High Pass.”

The dagger felt surprisingly heavy in her hands, its surface so cold that it seemed to draw the warmth from her palms. Artificer Erkembalt’s work on the blade was truly exceptional and the ice-blue horn had been polished to a mirror finish that caught and reflected the candlelight from above, while the carved tusk hilt bore intricate patterns and runes that were far older than any of the ones she’d studied in her time with the Mother of Thorns.

”While tradition dictates that a knight be given a sword, I think you will find this weapon even more useful than an ordinary sword,” she said, allowing a thread of emerald energy to flow from her heart, down through her arms, and into the glittering horn weapon. The technique she used was very similar to the way Ignatious said the Holy Flame Blade should be used, but unlike the temperamental artifact crafted by the Church to test true believers, Frost Fang responded instantly and without resistance to her will.

The transformation that overtook the weapon was both immediate and breathtaking. Frost formed along the blade’s edges with a sound like breaking glass, and tiny crystals spread outward as moisture from the warm air of the great hall rushed toward the weapon. The ice that formed along the weapon didn’t simply coat the blade, rather, it grew from it, extending the weapon’s reach until what had been a dagger became a slender sword of translucent blue-white ice.

Gasps echoed through the hall as the temperature around Ashlynn dropped noticeably. Those sitting at the tables for guests of honor could see their breath misting in the sudden chill, and several people unconsciously pulled their cloaks tighter. The ice blade caught the candlelight and fractured it into dancing rainbows that played across the stone walls, casting prismatic shadows that shifted with each tiny movement of Ashlynn’s hand.

”With your teacher, Lord General Thane, and all of those gathered here today as my witness,” Ashlynn said formally, her breath forming a faint cloud around as she spoke. Slowly, and moving with a bit of caution lest she accidentally injure the newly risen knight, Ashlynn extended the blade toward Ollie.

The ice blade made only the faintest sound as it touched Ollie’s shoulders, left, then right, then left again, but where it touched his shoulders, frost flowers bloomed briefly on the fabric of his tunic before melting away in the warmth that radiated from the crackling hearth behind the high table.

”Let it be known that you are Sir Ollie Heartwood, both the Cypress Witch and the Cypress Knight, Vassal of Lady Ashlynn Blackwell and Guardian of the Village of Refuge,” Ashlynn announced, bringing this part of the ceremony to a close. With a gentle pulse of her will, Ashlynn dispelled the blade of ice, leaving nothing behind but the original weapon and a few tiny ice crystals, dancing on the air before they faded away entirely.

”Rise, Sir Ollie Heartwood,” she said, presenting him with the ornately carved dagger, its horn surface already warming under her touch. ”And take your place among us!”