The Vampire & Her Witch

"Mother," Ashlynn said in a sharp tone that the Ashlynn of a year ago would never have used, particularly when speaking to one of her parents.

"I do have some explaining to do," Ashlynn admitted, because in this, at least, her mother wasn’t wrong. She’d tried to just have dinner and to approach this casually. After explaining what she was to Ollie when she brought him back to the Vale, and to Isabell when she came to the Vale, and to Loman and...

Ashlynn had been through enough versions of ’the conversation’ with enough people, always feeling like she was walking on the edge of a knife, that when it came time to talk to her mother, she didn’t want to go through it all over again. Her mother knew she was a witch. She knew that before she left the convent to come here. Ashlynn had said in her letter that she’d embraced her identity as a witch...

But Maela clearly didn’t understand what that meant, or she’d never have reacted the way she did to the idea of Jocelynn joining her coven.

"Before I explain anything, I want to be very clear," Ashlynn added. "I’m a witch. A Great Witch. It’s who I am and what I was born to be, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, wrong or evil or wicked about it."

"Ash, I didn’t say that..." Maela stared, only for Jocelynn to interrupt.

"You didn’t have to, Mother," Jocelynn said, holding Ashlynn’s hand tightly and reaching across with the other hand to cling to Ashlynn’s arm. "You said all of them at once when you demanded an explanation for why Ash would make me a witch."

"Ash didn’t have to make this offer," Jocelynn continued, staring defiantly at her mother. "After what I did, she could have sent me back to Blackwell or locked me in a dungeon or... Or a dozen worse things, and I’d have deserved them all. But she didn’t. She offered me a chance to join her, and not even because she’s forgiven me, but because one day, maybe she could and..."

"Jocey," Ashlynn said, giving her sister a reassuring squeeze. "It’s fine," she said soothingly. "It’s my fault for forgetting and thinking we could just have a nice dinner and be happy about the good things this past year without wading through all the other stuff too," she said.

"Ash, Jocey, that’s not fair, and you know it," Maela said, watching her daughters cling to each other as the temperature in the room seemed to plummet and the distance between her and her daughters grew wider at the rate of a falling stone.

"Ashlynn, I’m sorry," Maela said, biting her lower lip as she struggled to find the right words when so many of them felt wrong. Or rather, so many things she thought to say felt as slippery as eels, prone to twisting and turning back on her if she let the words slip past her lips.

There were years of hurt buried in Ashlynn’s eyes, and a dozen fresh wounds she didn’t fully understand staring at her through Jocelynn’s. At the moment, more than anything else, she wanted to soothe those hurts, but so much had changed in the past year that she didn’t know how.

"I shouldn’t have snapped at you, Ash," Maela said. "I know the mark you bear made life hard for you in more ways than I can count. The world wasn’t ever fair to you, but I never thought you were wicked or evil," Maela said.

"You were my little miracle," Maela said as a tear rolled down her cheek. "The most wonderful thing that ever happened to me, and when your father said we should hide you away instead of taking you to the Church about your mark because we might lose you if we did... I couldn’t bear to take the chance that someone might take you away from me."

"I know," Ashlynn said in a voice that was soft and fragile. "I know you loved me. It was the witch in me that you couldn’t accept," she said. "The witch that was wicked. The witch that I needed to make up for. But the witch isn’t separate from me; it’s part of me. It’s who and what I am..."

"You don’t have to be defined by that," Maela said, repeating something she’d told her daughter for years. "The Holy Lord of Light lays out many paths for us to walk, and you choose which ones your feet follow. Just because you bore the mark didn’t mean you had to choose witchcraft."

"I’m just trying to understand," Maela added as she watched Ashlynn’s face grow cold, settling into an expressionless mask that she’d never before seen on her daughter’s expressive face. "The mark made your life so much harder. So many things would never have happened if you hadn’t been born a witch, so I don’t know why you would want the same things for your sister."

"Are you doing this to punish her?" Maela asked. "Is it revenge for what she did?"

"Auntie, say less," Micheline said, stepping up next to her aunt and coming to her rescue as if she could no longer bear to watch her family tearing at each other. "You said it yourself, you don’t understand," Micheline said gently as she placed a hand on Maela’s back. "When you don’t understand, it’s time to listen, not to speculate. Let Ashlynn tell us why," she said, looking at her cousin for an explanation.

"I don’t know what happened for Jocelynn to think that she deserves to be sent to a dungeon," Micheline added, raising a brow at her younger cousin. "But whatever happened, it wasn’t bad enough for Ashlynn to stop loving Jocelynn, so I don’t think Ashlynn sees becoming a witch as a bad thing. Not anymore."

"Thank you, Micheline," Ashlynn said, giving her cousin a gentle smile.

"What’s family for if not to help each other?" Micheline said lightly as her hands continued to support her aunt, Maela. "But there’s something you should also understand, Cousin. Your mother spent the past week in a carriage with a vampire, racing to reach you as fast as she could. She left home the same night she received your letter, within hours..."

"Your mother loves you both very much," Micheline said. "So remember that, and help us understand what it’s really like to be a witch so we can understand why Cousin Jocelynn would want to be one."

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