The Vampire & Her Witch

The ritual’s completion left a profound silence in the clearing, broken only by the soft sound of Ollie’s labored breathing and the distant murmur of voices from where the knights were securing Lady Cerys in the cart.

Morwen found herself unable to look away from the young witch, her eyes drinking in every detail from the way he leaned so heavily against Milo’s supporting frame to the visible trembling in his hands that spoke of just how much that final act of magic had cost him. Part of her wanted to drop to her knees in worship while another part of her wanted to rush to his side in order to offer him comfort and support... but someone else was already there.

”That was beautiful, brother,” Milo said as his arms tightened around Ollie’s shoulders. When the Eldritch Archer spoke, his voice was thick with emotions, blending respect, admiration, and deep concern in equal measure.

”But now you’ve given everything you have left,” Milo said gently. ”We should take you home now. You can rest and recover properly. Sit by the fire in your manor and let mother cook for you. You’ve done enough to have earned a month or two at home with the villagers.”

”I’ll be fine,” Ollie protested, though the weakness in his voice rather undermined the claim. ”Lady Ashlynn will be waiting for us in Maeril. She’ll be able to help me recover once we get there.”

”Ollie...” Milo started, but Ollie cut him off with a gentle shake of his head.

”She’s probably going to scold me for pushing myself this hard,” Ollie admitted with a wan smile. ”But that’s all the more reason to get to her quickly, so she can yell at me and then help put me back together. You know how she is.”

”Are you certain?” Harrod asked, giving Ollie a worried look as he came to support his friend on the opposite side from Milo. ”The village isn’t that far, but if you press on to Maeril...” he said, allowing his voice to trail off without saying the rest.

If Ollie returned home to his village, then he could truly rest for as long as it took. There was a rich forest in the Vale that could help him heal, and Lady Heila could come to visit as well. He wouldn’t need to worry about anything in the safety of the Vale of Mists. But if he pressed on to Maeril, there would almost certainly be a fight in his future, and at the moment, he couldn’t even walk up the hill on his own, much less don his armor to help in a battle.

”I’ll rest on the way to Maeril,” Ollie said firmly, then seemed to reconsider as he looked at his two companions. ”I promise, I’ll be alright. Sir Gavin will be with me, and Lady Eira and Lady Morwen as well. I won’t be alone.”

”Besides,” he added with a smile that looked more fragile than he likely intended. ”I’m sure that somewhere among all the wagons and carts the Dunns brought, someone has enough room for a kitchen boy to sleep on a sack of potatoes. It’ll be fine,” he insisted.

”You better be alright,” Milo said fiercely before he let out a heavy sigh. This was both one of the best and the worst things about his brother, and he knew that arguing with him would accomplish nothing. ”Because if you’re not, I’m going to be very angry with you.”

”I know,” Ollie said, and reached up with one trembling hand to place it over Milo’s, where it rested on his shoulder. ”Thank you, Milo. For everything. For diving into the water after me, for refusing to let me go, for the carving, for... for all of it.”

”Always,” Milo said, and the single word carried the weight of an oath. ”Always, Ollie.”

They stood like that for a moment longer, the three of them, Ollie, Milo, and Harrod, forming a tight circle of mutual support and deep affection. Then Harrod stepped back, his expression carefully controlled despite the worry that still lingered in his eyes.

”We’ll see you soon when you’re ready to come home,” Harrod said. ”Take care of yourself until then. And take care of him,” he added, directing the last comment toward Sir Gavin, who had approached during the farewells.

”On my honor,” Gavin said solemnly. ”I’ll watch over him until he’s safely in Lady Ashlynn’s care. You have my word.”

Milo nodded slowly, clearly reluctant to let go but recognizing that this was the best option available. As much as he wanted to take Ollie home, he knew that his brother would never abandon his duty to Lady Ashlynn, but at least the Mother of Trees would be able to care for him as well as anyone in the Vale of Mists could.

Then, with visible effort, Milo released his hold on Ollie and stepped back, though his eyes never left his brother’s face.

”Be safe,” Milo said. ”Both of you. All of you,” he amended, glancing at the rest of the humans who had come from the Dunn camp. ”And Ollie? Don’t do anything else stupid before you get to Maeril.”

”I’ll try my best,” Ollie said with a faint smile, and then Gavin was there, carefully taking Milo’s place as Ollie’s support and helping the exhausted witch begin the slow journey up the hill toward where the cart waited.

Morwen watched them go, and her heart ached at the way Ollie’s legs trembled with each step despite Gavin’s steady support. It was even worse when she saw the way Milo and Harrod stood at the base of the hill with their eyes fixed on their departing brother until he disappeared from view. There was something profoundly moving about it, something that spoke to bonds deeper than blood and loyalty stronger than steel.

This was what Sir Gavin had meant when he said they cared for each other as much as any brothers he’d ever seen. This was what it looked like when people chose to be family, and they built something precious out of shared struggle and mutual sacrifice.

And Sir Ollie was at the center of it. The kind-eyed witch with the old-fashioned manners who had nearly died this morning saving a woman who hated him, who had then poured the last of his strength into blessing the seeds that would eventually restore the forest he’d destroyed in the process.

Eira moved to stand beside Morwen, and when Morwen glanced at her friend, she saw her own complicated emotions reflected in Eira’s expression.

”Come on,” Eira said quietly. ”We should help get them settled in the cart. The sooner we get him back to camp, the sooner he can really rest.”

”Right,” Morwen said, quickly joining Eira as they picked their way carefully over the frozen ground. ”Um, Eira?”

”Hmm? What is it?” Eira asked.

”That thing he said about riding in a cart with potatoes,” Morwen said awkwardly. ”I, I know he won’t be able to ride his own horse to Maeril, but, if he needs a place to be, do you think he would accept if I offered a place in my family’s carriage? Caderyn can ride in Sir Ollie’s place to make room,” she said thoughtfully.

”So even after learning all this and seeing what he can do,” Eira said with a light, musical giggle. ”You haven’t taken your eye off him then?”

”It, it’s not that,” Morwen said awkwardly as her face heated. ”I just think... after everything he’s done, wouldn’t it be too cruel to treat him like that? It, it would be insulting, wouldn’t it?” she stammered.

”Maybe to most people,” Eira said as she looked at the flame-haired knight making his way toward the waiting cart. ”But somehow, I don’t think he was lying when he said he’d be fine with it...”