The Vampire & Her Witch
Chapter 512: Coming Clean

Chapter 512: Coming Clean

Stripping out of his tunic and breeches, Ollie shivered for a moment while he folded his clothing and set it neatly to the side before plunging into the deep pool. The moment his body slipped into the frigid water, he let out an explosive gasp as the chill penetrated all the way to his bones. The next instant, he slipped beneath the surface of the water, surprised at the depth of the pool and completely forgetting to hold his breath or close his eyes before the water enveloped him completely.

-GASP-

It felt like he’d been underwater for minutes even though it had been only seconds as Ollie struggled to the surface, splashing and flailing around for the edge of the pool to steady himself in the water.

"It’s shallower on the other side," Milo pointed out, concealing a friendly grin as his whiskers twitched in amusement and his tail slapped the ground with the force of the laughter he dared not let slip past his lips. "I was about to warn you but..."

"Sure you were," Ollie said, swimming across the pool to the shallow end and finding his footing in waist deep water. "You can laugh, I know you want to laugh," he said, holding out a hand and gesturing for Milo to toss him the block of soap.

"No, no, if I laugh now then I’ll pay for it when you’re a powerful witch," Milo teased, tossing the soap to the shivering young human. "You have to remember my kindness when you become the Cypress Witch," he insisted.

"Pfft," Ollie snorted, catching the soap and beginning to scrub himself clean. Here again, Thane held to the old traditions. The soap was coarse, packed with fine sand that scoured away not only dirt and grime but what felt like the top layer of Ollie’s flesh as well.

A knight was supposed to be a symbol of purity and the filth of the world was said to seep into a person’s skin until they were mired in debauchery and sin. To become a knight, one had to strip away any of those worldly obsessions and face their vigil with skin as pure and untainted as when they were newborn babes.

For Ollie, the process wasn’t just uncomfortable, it took an excruciating amount of time and for the first time in his life he wished he’d been born just a little bit shorter. More than that, however, he realized just how much dirt and grime seemed to have embedded itself into his flesh over the years.

As he scrubbed, the pure white suds that clung to the soap became darker and darker as he scrubbed away the soot from countless cookfires that seemed to permanently cling to the tips of his fingers around his nails. After spending so many years in the kitchens, the familiar mixture of cooking grease and cookfire soot that covered his skin felt like it had become a defining characteristic of his.

That slowly changed as the rough, forest-scented soap peeled it away along with the surface layer of his skin, leaving behind a gleaming white figure that appeared like its muscles had been sculpted from marble rather than honed through years of manual labor.

The dirt and grease took with it years of worry and hunger pangs that no longer defined his day to day life. He still had worries, some might say that the worries on his shoulders were even greater than the ones he’d born in the past, but those shoulders had become broader in the past several months, and they were more than capable of holding up the burdens that Ollie was preparing to take up.

"You can leave your back to me, Sir Ollie," Milo said, slipping into the chilly water alongside the human when he saw the young man begin to struggle.

"I know I can," Ollie said, handing over the soap. That was something else that sloughed off the flame-haired youth’s body along with the dirt as Milo began to scrub at his broad, well defined shoulders. In the kitchens of Lothian Manor, Ollie constantly had to be on the lookout for rivals who fought over scraps among the staff, or who might blame mistakes on someone else to escape the punishment of the head cook.

Here, however, in a place that should have been a thousand times more dangerous than the kitchens deep within Lothian Manor at the heart of the well defended Lothian City, Ollie felt even safer and more secure than he had ’among his own people.’ When he thought about the dangers that lay ahead of them, the oncoming threat of war with the Lothians and the Church, there was only one person who he felt he could trust to stand with him in the face of danger.

Otis, the army cook who had taken over the Summer Villa’s kitchen when Ollie first met Ashlynn had been willing to set fire to the kitchens to cover their escape. Looking back, if Ollie had one regret it was that they were forced to leave the older cook behind when they fled the villa and they had never been able to return to repay the debt they owed the man.

But now, when he thought about who he could trust to stand with him against danger, the list held more names than he could quickly count, from Harrod to Georg, Sir Thand and Sir Marcel who had taught him so much, and even Lady Ashlynn and the other members of the coven he was about to join. But one name stood out more than others as he thought about the people he’d grown close to since coming to reside in the Vale of Mists and the village filled with refugees.

"Milo," Ollie said softly as his friend scoured his broad, pale back in the quiet of the pool. "During my vigil, Heila will stand for me but this take days instead of a single night and day. I don’t have any family in the Vale who can stand at my side but..."

"I already planned to stand for you," Milo said. "But, Sir Ollie, please, don’t ever say you don’t have any family in the Vale," he added, pausing his scrubbing to turn the young man around and looking directly into his pale eyes. "Mother and I, and so many others, when we were too consumed by our losses to care for each other as family should, you cared for us."

"So please," he said softly. "When the time comes to free your birth family so they can join your family here, just call upon us and we’ll fight our way into the heart of Lothian Manor if we have to. But, until then, remember that we’re your family too."

"Thank you, Milo," Ollie said, reaching out with his palms held upward and his fingers slightly curled. The next moment, Milo returned the gesture, setting his sharp claws gently on Ollie’s wrists while the tips of Ollie’s fingers brushed his. Among the Heartwood Clan, it was a gesture that meant you trusted the other person with your lifeblood beneath their claws and it wasn’t something Ollie did casually.

But Milo, Old Nan and the others of the village really had become a part of his family here in the Vale, even more so than the women of the coven he was preparing to join. He knew that Heila would defend him fiercely if needed and she would be an important part of his trial as a witch in the days to come as well.

But when it came to feeling safe and protected, few could give him that feeling more than brave archer who had turned down service in Commander Bassinger’s army in order to remain at Ollie’s side.

"Now, am I scrubbed enough to get out of the watter?" Ollie said as he fought to keep his teeth from chattering. "The sun has almost set," he pointed out, looking at the darkening sky above as the evening mists rolled in.

"I think you’re fine," Milo said, slipping out of the pool to fetch the bundle of cloth that Virve had passed over, opening it to reveal a pure white robe with laces across the chest. "Dry off first, and then I’ll walk you back to Lady Ashlynn."

The walk back didn’t take long, but by the time Ollie had dried himself, dressed and hiked back through the evening gloom, it seemed like Ashlynn had completed her tour of the village, returning to the square to await the arrival of the final participants in tonight’s ceremonies.

"You look refreshed," Ashlynn said when she saw Ollie’s figure enter the village square. His skin was slightly pinkish from a combination of the chill and the scouring soap, but he also looked like the scrub had done what it was intended to do. The Ollie who approached her now stood up straighter, walking confidently with Milo at his side, as if he had set down some worries or scrubbed away some doubts along with the dirt when he bathed in the frigid waters of his outdoor pool.

"I feel more refreshed than I thought I would," Ollie said. "I know that Sir Thane said things weren’t done this way anymore, but in a way, I’m starting to feel like that’s sad. I feel... better now," he said, though he couldn’t find a word that entirely expressed the way he felt.

"As you should," Thane’s rich voice said as the mist cloaking the village seemed to solidify before revealing the figures of two men striding out of the darkness and fog. "Your feet are on the path, Ollie," the vampire-knight said proudly. "Are you ready to take the next step?"

"I am, I..."

Whatever Ollie was about to say, however, was lost as several of the villagers shrieked in fear, their eyes glued to the man dressed in crimson and gold standing next to Sir Thane.

"In-In-Inquisitor!" a panicked voice cried as women snatched their children, darting for their homes while others snatched at weapons, preparing to fight for their lives to prevent humans from burning down yet another village.

"Sir Thane," Old Nan said, glaring at the powerful vampire with eyes that held a heartbreaking blend of fear and betrayal, laying over a fierce determination to fight for what they’d built in the place that had slowly become their new home. "Why have you brought this man here? Have we wronged you somehow that you would punish us like this?"

"Please," Ignatious said, raising his hands helplessly and looking to Ashlynn and Heila for help. "I’m just here for young Ollie, it’s..."

"You can’t have him," Milo said fiercely, stepping in front of the startled youth and drawing a wicked, curved blade. "Ollie is one of ours, and we won’t give him up to the likes of you!"

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