The Vampire & Her Witch

Late autumn rains settled over the Vale of Mists, filling the air with the soft pattering sound of raindrops falling on broad leaves and the sound of water spilling from gutters into catchment pools below.

In the garden where Ashlynn once enjoyed her first, tentative evenings with Nyrielle, the Mother of Trees sat under a gazebo that felt almost as ancient as the rest of the fortress. In the spring, the trumpet vines climbing the gazebo’s weathered posts would bloom with a dazzling array of colors and hummingbirds would dance through the air as they feasted on the flowers’ sweet nectar.

Now, however, the entire garden felt like it had gone to sleep for the winter, and only the gazebo itself seemed to hold any signs of life. A metal firepit stood in the center of the gazebo, filled with cedar logs that crackled merrily while brilliant yellow and orange flames danced to keep away the damp chill in the air.

”Not many people would choose to entertain guests outdoors this time of year,” Isabell said in teasing tones as she followed Heila out into the garden. Beside her, Master Tiernan pulled his fur-trimmed cloak closer against the cold and splashing of the wind but the stoic ironmonger refused to admit any kind of discomfort at the weather.

”The gardens are a sort of ’neutral ground,’ Ashlynn said as she stood to receive her guests. ”My tower belongs to my coven. The great hall is far too formal, and the places that are most appropriate to receive close friends are deep underground where no daylight can intrude...”

”We’ve already stepped this far into dem-er, Eldritch territory,” Tiernan said, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar word. As soon as he reached the shelter of the gazebo, he pulled one of surprisingly heavy iron chairs closer to the fire pit before easing his weight onto the delicate looking chair.

Once he was sitting, however, he realized that despite the delicate looking spirals of twisted iron that formed the chair, it was incredibly sturdy, even for someone of his weight and size. But then, considering the size of the bearish fellows he’d seen walking about, perhaps it was to be expected that a person like him, usually one of the largest and physically strongest men in any gathering, would still be on the small side compared to some of their hosts.

”It seems silly to fret over being in the garden or the tower or underground when we’re already behind the fortress walls,” Tiernan said, holding his hands out to feel the warmth of the fire on them. ”Besides, you shouldn’t have to act like we’re strangers when we’re old friends,” he added, giving Ashlynn a careful, evaluating look in an attempt to determine if she really was still an old friend now that they had entered the ancient fortress, or if she had been putting on a performance for them in the carriage last night.

”We still appreciate the thoughtfulness,” Isabell said, poking the burly guild master lightly in the ribs as she took her own seat only to frown a moment later when she realized that there were only three chairs waiting under the gazebo.

”Isn’t Lady Heila joining us?” Isabell asked, turning to look at the diminutive witch who had escorted them here to meet with Ashlynn. She’d spent hours talking to the young woman and the distance between them had slowly melted away when she realized how much they had in common despite their respective backgrounds.

In the same way that Isabell had found herself thrust into the highest of social circles in the Emerald Kingdom when she found herself wrapped up in the Prince’s mission to reclaim his throne from his uncle, Heila had found herself standing near the top of what passed for an aristocracy in the Vale of Mists.

Heila seemed to be handling the transition better than Isabell had, but that was largely due to Ashlynn’s own efforts to guide her ascension. By comparison, the Prince had seen her as one of his many allies, but he’d never thought much about how she was different from the knights and noble heirs who formed the bulk of his inner circle. If not for Casquas, Isabell would have been left to flounder on her own as she attempted to adapt to life within the Royal Court.

”This time is for the three of you who are far from home,” Heila said politely, giving a polite curtsy as she prepared to withdraw. ”I won’t intrude. Besides, Virve tells me that there will be wounded to tend to tonight, so I should rest while I can and then make preparations.”

”Thank you for caring for my friends, Heila,” Ashlynn said as she retrieved a pot of hot tea and began pouring large cups for her guests. ”You know I’m here if you need me.”

”Wounded to tend to?” Isabell asked, raising an eyebrow while she inhaled the sweet, subtle aroma of the tea, cradling the cup more from a desire for warmth than any need of a hot beverage. ”Has something happened?”

”The start of a war,” Ashlynn said more calmly than she felt. She’d considered keeping quiet about what was happening, at least for a day or two while giving the Guild Masters a tour of Vale City and the many projects that could benefit greatly from their wisdom and experience.

She also wanted to introduce them to some of the Eldritch Masters who she had recruited from across the mountains to help them see the brighter side of the world she wanted to build. In the end, however, she refused to treat her friends like distant strangers who needed to be wooed and courted in order to form an alliance.

”It’s only the very beginning,” Ashlynn explained while her emerald eyes carefully watched the Guild Masters for their reactions. ”Raids on livestock and caravans transporting grain and produce to market. A few skirmishes, but no pitched battles. Some have even ended in the Eldritch way as duels between powerful champions for the fate of their soldiers.”

”You’re attacking the common folk?” Tiernan blurted, squeezing the mug in his hand firmly enough that it shook, splashing hot tea over his hand but he hardly noticed as he stared at Ashlynn in shock.

”Why?” he demanded. ”Why would you do such a thing to your own people?”