The Vampire & Her Witch
Chapter 514: A Man of Faith (Part Two)

Chapter 514: A Man of Faith (Part Two)

Around the village, several eyes widened in shock. Did this Inquisitor truly believe that his people were wrong to attack them? Would he really turn against his own Church to help them obtain their vengeance? The idea of it seemed preposterous, but once they got over the shock of seeing an Inquisitor among them, much less one who professed to be on their side, several people in the crowd began to mutter in grudging approval of the strange priest.

"No wonder Lady Nyrielle took him as one of her progeny," one woman said, resting back on her spider-like limbs while her crimson eyes cast a deeply evaluating look at the strange vampire. "Maybe she hopes to conquer the human’s church from within with this one."

"Did he say he fought in the Brother’s War?" an aging man from the Clan of Painted Masks said, cocking his head to the side and quickly counting the years on his fingers, recalling the stories his father told about that terrible war. "Old, he must be very old. Older than Madame Zedya, maybe as old as Sir Thane... tsk, tsk, tsk, and in exile all this time? There has to be some story there..."

"Thank you, Sir Ignatious," Ashlynn said, withdrawing her emerald energy from the trees around them and nodding slightly at the fallen priest. "And I apologize to you," she added. "I should have warned the people of the village about your attendance. Your return to the Vale will be announced during the festival, but..."

"It’s fine, my lady," Ignatious said, returning to an anxious-looking Heila’s side and reaching down to take her hand in his. "Tonight, I came to speak to Sir Ollie about faith, and to pray with him at the start of his vigil if he wishes it," he said, smiling at the flame-haired youth who had faded into the background during the conflict.

It wasn’t that Ollie didn’t want to intercede earlier when Milo first drew his knife. It was just that, by the time he’d realized what was happening and started to make a move, events had already moved beyond him, and so he held his tongue, ready to speak up if need be or to restrain Milo if it looked like things might become violent.

The fact that all he could do during the tense standoff was consider ways to protect Milo by stopping him from fighting against the powerful vampire was a frustrating reminder of just how weak he currently was compared to people like Thane, Ignatious, Lady Ashlynn, and Lady Heila. If a conflict had broken out between the villagers and the vampires, even if he drew the darksteel cleaver from the belt he’d surrendered to Milo, he had no confidence in fighting back against such overwhelming foes.

But that would change soon, so long as he was able to pass the trial ahead of him to become the Cypress Witch. That thought, combined with the shameful feeling of helplessness in this conflict, strengthened his resolve even more as he looked from Ignatious to Thane and finally to Lady Ashlynn.

"It’s tradition that much of a knight’s vigil is spent in prayer," Ashlynn said, more for the benefit of the villagers than Ollie, who had already received an explanation from Sir Thane. "But those of us who have left the Kingdom and the Church behind exist in a space outside the rules and traditions that bound us in the land of our birth."

"So the choice is yours, Ollie," Ashlynn said. "I have spent some time conversing with Sir Ignatious, and I believe that he understands matters of faith better than most who have never been forced to reexamine the things we were taught as children. But your heart belongs to you, and no one can force you to cling to a faith that would label you a ’demon’ for joining my coven."

"I think," Ollie began, looking at Ignatious and finding the vampire to be very different from every priest or Inquisitor he’d ever seen in his years at Lothian Manor. He possessed the same unnatural stillness that Ollie had come to recognize as common among vampires, but there was something even more significant that made him curious about the fallen Inquisitor.

"I think that Sir Ignatious is very different from the Inquisitors I’ve seen before," Ollie said. "Most of those men were very proud, even arrogant. I can’t imagine them kneeling at the feet of anyone, much less offering to suffer in the place of someone else."

"Sir Ignatious," Ollie said, extending a hand to the strange vampire. "I’m not planning to take ’Faith’ as one of my virtues, but I do intend to make ’Humility’ part of my oath. Maybe, maybe we can talk about how someone with as much power as you have can be so humble. I think that would be good for me tonight."

"If you can already be that thoughtful," Ignatious said, taking the soon-to-be knight’s hand in his and giving it a firm squeeze. "Then I think I can share a few thoughts with you. And," he said, glancing down at Heila’s diminutive figure next to him. "I think you’re the sort of man who will protect the other members of his coven well."

"In that case," Ashlynn said smoothly. "We should move to the water’s edge. Everyone, I know many of you have come to show your support to Ollie as he faces his trial, but as the Mother of Trees, I insist that you keep your distance during this ritual. If it is interrupted, or if he is disturbed, the consequences could be dire."

As the group began to walk toward the water’s edge, a chill, snowy aura enveloped Ignatious, piercing the aura of warmth that surrounded the vampire even now and making the hand that held Heila’s feel as though it had been plunged into a bucket of ice water.

"What you did was very brave," Heila said through tight lips as she tried to keep from embarrassing Ignatious after the intense encounter. He had been brave, and as they left, she saw many people casting glances toward the fallen priest that were filled with more curiosity than fear and even a trace of grudging respect. And yet...

"But please remember that you aren’t alone in Hamdi’s Tangled Tower anymore," Heila added, keeping her eyes straight ahead in the gathering gloom rather than looking up to see Ignatious’s face. "There are people who would miss you if something happened to you, and people who would ache to see you suffer."

"Heila, I," Ignatious started, only for the feeling of frost to grow even sharper as Heila’s free hand clutched the hilt of Snow Fang until her knuckles turned white.

,

"I didn’t heal you to watch other people hurt you," she said with a fierceness to her voice that surprised even her. "The blood, um, the blood I gave you, it’s very precious. So don’t, don’t waste that gift on something like that," she said, her voice faltering and her face heating slightly as she thought of the moment on the slopes of the mountain when she offered Ignatious her wrist to save him from the terrible wounds the Holy Flame Blade inflicted on him.

"I’m sorry," Ignatious said, uncertain how else he should respond to Heila’s feelings. "I, I don’t know what to say," he admitted. After years of suffering at Hamdi’s hands, very little remained of the former Inquisitor’s pride, but if there was one thing he could say, it was that he had an unparalleled ability to endure. In his mind, so long as he didn’t die, enduring a bit of pain in order to help the villagers move on from their hatred and grief was a more than fair trade.

But it seemed like Heila saw things differently... and perhaps, he should see things differently as well.

"Just promise me that you’ll be kind to yourself from now on," Heila said softly as they walked. Slowly, she withdrew the icy aura, removing her free hand from the hilt of Snow Fang and placing it alongside her other hand, overlapping it with Ignatious’s hand between hers. "Promise that you’ll remember that there are people who care about you, and don’t let yourself suffer when you don’t have to."

"All right," Ignatious said softly, reaching out to gently caress the curve of Heila’s horn with his free hand. "I promise."