CONTENT WARNING: mention of kidnapping and murder, pictured blood, fantasy violence
Oskar
If Áine is going to be staying with me for some time, then I have no choice but to try and get it into Violeta's head that the past is the past- easier said than done, of course. It is nearly impossible to change the mind of a fellow immortal. It seemed most vampires had that in common- stuck in their ways. You can't afford to be stuck in your ways when you live forever- the times are changing quicker now than they ever did before, and you must learn to keep up.
"You know she's not going to be a threat to us, Violeta. One, it's been years since the war, and two, she's pregnant, for goodness' sake!"
"Just because she's pregnant doesn't mean she won't be an eventual threat, Oskar. If she isn't one of the 'good witches' then all she'll do is raise her child to be the same."
"Believe me, even if she did want to kill us, she's in no condition to. She doesn't seem dangerous. It seems more that she's running from something. Besides, your parents had beliefs that you didn't agree with, surely? "
And even then...No matter how much you may love the people you raised you, there will be something they said or thought that you disliked, maybe even despised. Violeta doesn't realise that the younger generations are much more open about things we never spoke about. We were told never to speak back to our elders, but today, people know better where they stand and what they deserve- good on them.
Whatever Áine did that she did not want to mention, I could tell that it was either necessary or entirely out of her control. She had tears streaming down her face, and I can tell the difference between fake tears and real ones. I wish I could let her stroll around Nebelstadt, but with both Violeta and the Strong bloodline lurking, it wasn't worth it.
"Oskar, you know all I am trying to do above all else is protect you. You keep saying the witches of today would be devastated at what the witches of yesterday did, but you forget that not everyone thinks like that."
This isn't going anywhere, is it? I'm starting to lose my patience, and with my own best friend, at that...
"I've seen the way old grudges have swallowed every other vampire, Violeta. I don't want to be like that. We have to have some level of faith that people have changed for the better. We can't keep assuming the people of today are responsible for the mistakes of the people that preceded them. So long as they have learned from the past not to repeat it, that's all I care about."
Violeta doesn't like that response. As angry as I am, I have to see it from her point of view. She's met a lot of terrible people during her time, her old partner Eugen being the worst. Everyone Violeta has come to trust, other than me, has wronged her somehow. Escaping the past is something neither of us are terribly good at, but her moreso than myself.
"We've sent out a letter to her partner to say that she's here. If and when he arrives, I don't want you laying a finger on him. Is that understood?"
She gives me a disgusted glare. Whether she wants to or not, Violeta needs to come to terms with the present. The real threat are the witchfinders- no-one else. No-one this day in age would ever give up a fellow witch to the witchfinders, I'm sure of it...
* * *
[Áine's letter to Reynold]
Dearest Reynold,
I'm afraid everything has taken a turn for the worst. I had to flee again, and I am now in the house of a strange yet kind man in the town of Nebelstadt, north of Granite Falls. Do not panic, I am safe I must ask you to come out here if you can. I understand that you have a monastery to take care of, but I have much I must tell you that cannot wait for both our sakes- nothing that I want to explain on paper. I cannot wait to see you again.
Hope to see you soon,
- Áine
[Oskar's letter to Reynold]
Dear Prior R. Morgan,
I cordially invite you to my home in the town of Nebelstadt, just north of Granite Falls. When you get here, it is the one right in the northern corner, up the hill- you cannot miss it. I understand you are a busy man, but your partner ended up here and she could do with your comfort. Seemingly, she's fled from something or someone, I know nothing more about it. Do not worry, she is doing as well as she can be. She has food, warmth and shelter here.
I would be glad for you to join us here for as long as you both need. I will warn you that Nebelstadt can be a dangerous place; there are local wolf packs, so try to steer clear of them. They may see you as a threat to their territory.
Yours faithfully,
Oskar Leonhard Nivelheim
* * *
No amount of 'do not worry' would settle me about this. Her handwriting is all over the place. It's jittery and panicked. Why on Earth is Áine in Nebelstadt, of all places? There's no way she could have run off from just outside Henford to all the way out there. And who on Earth is Oskar Nivelheim? Sounds like a Windenburg name. The only conclusion I can come to is that she was taken. Why would they both write a letter? Áine would have been completely honest if she were writing the letter alone...But then why? Why would the kidnapper want to drag me out there? Some sort of ransom? Either way, I'll have to go. It boils my blood just thinking about the possibility of Áine in danger. I tell myself to stay calm, but maybe it's for the best that I let the anger overtake me this once. I'll get to Nebelstadt faster that way.
* * *
"You want me to what?"
I show Elias the letters, but he just seems to raise an eyebrow at me.
"So you want me to look after the monastery while you're gone? And you're putting off your ordination? Again?"
"I know it's a lot to ask, Elias, but I genuinely think she's been kidnapped by someone...Maybe even a witchfinder. I need to get to Nebelstadt as soon as possible, Elias. I'm sorry. I wouldn't ask so much of you if it weren't so dire...I should only be gone a few days at most."
I respect Elias, but he can be difficult sometimes. He's a little stern. He offered himself up reluctantly to become Mother Joyce's successor, but eventually decided it wasn't a role he wanted. I think he'd suit it, perhaps moreso than me- but it's the workload that puts people off. I don't blame them.
"Okay, fine. I'll do what I can to look after the monastery whilst you're gone. Susana can give me a hand with it, whether she wants to or not. And I suppose you're going to want to borrow my horse again?"
"I appreciate the offer, Elias, but it won't be necessary this time."
"'Won't be necessary?' What, you're going to walk to Nebelstadt?!"
"I respect you, Brother Reynold, but you're a very confusing man, you know."
Oskar
After catching some fish for Áine's dinner later, I take a walk around Nebelstadt. My argument with Violeta still weighs on my mind, but it won't be the first, and it won't be the last.
Something seems off about tonight- as if someone other than Violeta is present. Not the Strongs, I hope. I don't have the energy for them at all. It may just be the wolves again.
Whenever I see the wolf packs charging through the streets and the trees, I think back to my old friends, the Lunvinchenaîné. Such loyal and beautiful creatures, they were. I'd be surprised if there were any left at all. They were wiped out quicker than we were. It saddens me to think about it, and yet I find myself thinking about it often.
The Moon was their enemy, She was their deity, and She was their friend. It gave them power when it was visible, and the radiance and unimaginable power of the full moon transformed them whether it was visible or not. No chance of seeing the Moon clearly enough here in Nebelstadt, anyway- too much fog, and too cloudy most of the time.
The peculiarity in the air thickens. I can hear a snarling behind me. The local wolves all know Violeta and I are not a threat to their pack. Perhaps it's a young one that went astray from its pack? No...something sounds different with this one. Nostalgic and strange.
I see a dark shadow lurking, and not one shaped entirely like a normal wolf...then it snarls louder, and I see the piercing light of its eyes...It can't be. Can it?
True emotions are only fleeting things for any vampire. The sudden onset of joy makes me nauseous! They're still alive after all of these years! Look at him- such a majestic creature, eerie undertones of a semblance of human voice underneath his snarls...
That's when he charges, grabbing me by the throat. My goodness! Has he forgotten the Bloodmoon pact? How is he even still alive? So many questions, and completely unable to answer them in this monstrous form, with his clawed hand around my throat.
I try to reason with him and shake him off, but it does nothing.
He clamps his jaws down on my arm. The searing pain shoots through my entire body as if it were poison. I give up trying to be peaceful about it, and grab the wolf by its throat. It's difficult to keep my grip from where the damned thing bit me, but still- I suppose the two of us can be monsters with our hands around each other's throats together.
Underneath its pitiful whimpering, there's something I can only describe as humanoid begging of sorts. Well, no good begging now. If you're not going to honour the Bloodmoon pact, and you're going to cause trouble, you can go in the basement for a time-out until you're human again- then you can answer for all of this.
What a day it has been. The first werewolf I have seen for countless years, and he tries to attack me! I'm sure a night in the basement will sort him out. Perhaps he's not in his right mind- can't have a rampaging werewolf around when Áine is here, after all...
* * *
I've been sitting here for hours, watching. He managed to tire himself out a few hours ago after hours of gnawing at the bars, barking, and trying to claw at me through the gaps. Despite it all, it's amazing to finally see one again, I'll admit that.
Sometimes, killing them right away felt too quick. The witchfinders' fates often depended on how I felt at the time. Sometimes I drained their blood there and then. Other times, I locked them in the basement and fed off them slowly and gradually. They'd often wet themselves in fear- sometimes even soil themselves as well- rather unpleasant. Some would beg for the lives of their families. I would tell them that their families would be better off without them, because the moment someone would have accused his wife of being a witch, I knew he'd hand her in without a second thought...
Ah, he's awake now. He doesn't quite look how I expect him to look. It seems the pieces of the puzzle have come together in an unexpected way.
For a moment, I forget he isn't a witchfinder, and force myself to snap out of the creepy vampiric façade. He looks at me, utterly terrified, through the bars...the one time I don't get any pleasure from such a thing. His voice sounds so hoarse I can barely understand what he's yelling about.
"Where on Earth am I? Why is there blood all over the floor?! What did you do to her?"
Her? No, no, this can't be, can it? Oh my, and the plot thickens. This is going to be interesting...so this must be...
"Prior Morgan, I assume? Oskar Nivelheim. A pleasure."
Oh, Heavens...a Peteran priest and a werewolf? What a combination. It's not often people stroll through Nebelstadt with such interesting lives and stories as this. Far better than any of those dreadful cheap stories the publishers have been knocking out recently. I didn't need to get him to answer for anything after all; I already had my answer.
"Where is she? Where is-"
"Relax, Prior Morgan. She's been staying with me as a guest, nothing more. Now that you're done snarling at me and biting me and trying to kill me, perhaps I'll let you out if you calm down...Áine is doing okay. I'd be lying if I said she were fine, but she seems incredibly unnerved by something. I don't know what happened before she arrived here. She still hasn't told me."
"Right. That still doesn't explain the blood."
"I don't always have time to clean up after dinner, Prior Morgan. But don't worry yourself- I only drink from witchfinders and the occasional animal. I have so many questions I'd like to ask you, but- no, I shan't get ahead of myself, but..."
When I spoke of the Lunvinchenaîné, Áine sounded like she'd never heard the word before in her life. Yet here her partner is, one of the moon-shackled themselves. Now, chances are Prior Morgan could have explained it to her in simpler terms, but it seems unlikely.
"Does Áine know about this?"
He grits his teeth, and a mixture of anger and guilt colours his expression. "About what-"
"About the wolf, Prior Morgan-"
"Enough of the formalities. Just call me Reynold."
"Fine, Reynold. You see, when I spoke about how much I longed to see one of your kind again, your partner had no idea who or what the Lunvinchenaîné were."
I can see it in his face. She doesn't have a clue, does she? What kind of thing is this to withhold from someone you love so dearly?
"This lady is having your child! You don't think she ought to know?!"
He wants to bite back, I know he does. But how can he? One, he's behind bars. Two, this has been eating away at him for months and months, only to brought out uncomfortably into the open, as it should be- as all things should be, if anything positive is to come out of it.
"You know how it is, Oskar. You get so used to having to hide it and-"
"Hide it? Heavens, no. If someone notices that I'm a vampire and tries to have me hung or burned for it, you can bet they'd be a sack of nothing but bones before they can utter a word about it to anyone who'd be stupid enough to try."
"Look, I've just been so used to having to not tell anyone that I didn't know when the right time would be. You see..."
He pauses for a second, looking down at the floor, and back at me, seemingly trying to gauge how much we truly have in common. I realise I may have been a little harsh, and aim to soften my tone.
"Reynold, you and I are of different arcane blood, but vampires and werewolves share one massive similarity. We've all lost control at one point, with devastating results. There's always an underlying fear that one day, it may be someone you love. Is that what it is?"
He puts a hand to his head and sinks down to the floor, resting against the bars. "It already happened. I already hurt someone I love. Not Áine, but- it was the first time I ever turned- No-one had told me how to cope with it, what would happen, anything like that, and..."
Alistair always said to me in the past that, should he ever have a son, his wife hoped that he would never find the wolf lying dormant in his blood. I'm unsure that not teaching him what would inevitably happen upon adulthood was such a clever idea, however. The more you get to know your monster, the better you know how to tame it. No good pretending it isn't there until it breaks out of its cage and devours someone you treasure.
"I understand, but that is only more of a reason that your partner should know. You both need to know what to do and when, both for your sake, her sake and most importantly, the sake of the child which might have your magic instead of its mother's."
He clings on tightly to the bars, trying to prevent his fury from turning him again.
"You're probably too young to know anything of the Bloodmoon pact. However, I am still very much aware of it. That said, you are both welcome to stay here as long as is needed. But you have to do something for me- tell your partner about your blood before you leave. Is that understood?"
He gives a reluctant nod in return.
"Good. Once you've calmed yourself, then you can see Áine. I'm sure she could do with your comfort at this time, and vice-versa."
I have no idea what's going to happen now. Could be fine, could erupt into an argument. I'll have to keep an eye and an ear out. Either way, I may come to slightly regret housing a couple...
"Also, Oskar...sorry for biting you."
I can't help but chuckle, even if my arm is still a little painful. "You're forgiven."
Áine
My child's near-constant wriggling kept me up all night, and the back pain isn't letting up at all. I feel a little better emotionally, but not much better. I can't stop thinking about what happened with Brádach. I still don't know how I did it. One minute he was stood there, the next he was on the floor, his skin grey and dry and wrinkled, like some sort of revenant.
On top of that, I felt strange...youthful and refreshed, an odd way to feel when you're only a few months from giving birth to your child. I keep meaning to read through my mother's wolf tome and see if I can find out more, but I don't know if I'm ready to witness the truth of what I may have done.
No matter your skill or the components you have on you, intent is the biggest ingredient of all witch magic, and the most powerful. If I didn't want to kill my father for what he did, I wouldn't have...I wanted to kill my own father. Was I really so cruel? Was I as bad as he was?
I hear Oskar's voice echo through the hallway, calling my name. At first, there was something unnerving about it, but now it was oddly comforting to hear.
"I have some good news for you, Áine. First, the master bedroom is all yours. I think you'll be much more comfortable in there-"
"I appreciate it, Oskar, but...I don't want to take that from-"
"Áine?"
I recognise that voice.
"-And so will your partner."
I see him just coming up the stairs, looking a little dishevelled. I feel a sliver of anxiety melt away. He came all this way; I hope Oskar didn't give him too much trouble. He runs up to me and grabs me by the shoulders. He looks more anxious than excited. His voice sounds oddly husky, and I can feel his arms shaking.
"Don't worry, I'm fine," I reply, glad to be in his company again. "Oskar has been more than kind to me."
Oh, goodness. I hope that didn't come out the wrong way...
I notice Oskar side-eye him for a moment before he heads back down the stairs. I'm hoping there hasn't been any major disagreements between them both.
It may not be an ideal situation, but at least for a short while, Reynold and I can be together under one roof, what I've dreamed of for some time now- what he seems to be on-edge about. Even then, the joy of this moment isn't quite as powerful as the dread of what I have to tell him.
We hold each other, warm in each other's embrace with the burgeoning winter outside- until we both simultaneously look at each other and say the exact same words:
'I have something I must tell you.'