The Vampire & Her Witch-Chapter 1298: Drifting (Part Two)

Ollie felt the cold water close over his head and he didn’t fight it.

He was so tired. Tired in a way that went beyond the physical exhaustion of his muscles or the aching cold that had seeped into his bones. It was a weariness of the soul, a bone-deep fatigue that made even the simple act of keeping his head above water feel like an insurmountable task.

His eyes, which had been dark and filled with shifting shadows during the healing, remained that way now as he drifted downstream. When the turbulent waters released their grip on his head, allowing him to take a shallow, feeble breath, he could see the trees on either side of the stream. They were all dead or dying, their life force drained away to fuel the witchcraft he had performed.

Everywhere he looked, there was death. The brown needles carpeting the forest floor. The shattered limbs of the oak tree lying like broken bones on the frozen ground. The skeletal branches of fragile trees reaching up toward the gray sky like the grasping fingers of corpses. Even the bushes and creeping vines of the undergrowth looked brittle and dead.

Because of him. Because he had done this. He had killed an entire copse of trees, had drawn their vitality into himself and used it to mend broken flesh and shattered bone. And in the end, he still didn’t know if Lady Cerys would accept the healing that she’d received. Because it came from him. Because it was the product of witchcraft and not one of the miracles of the Holy Lord of Light.

Was it worth it to heal such a person? The answer seemed so clear when he’d started but now, he didn’t know. All of the hope that had filled his heart when he tried to save her, all of his determination to see her reunited with her husband who cared so much and the child she’d risked her life to protect in the fall... it seemed distant now. Faded like the flames of a hearth burned down to ashes.

The call of the void was loud in Ollie’s ears, louder than the rushing water that carried him downstream. It was the same seductive song he had heard before, the promise of rest and relief from pain, from guilt, from the crushing weight of responsibility that seemed to grow heavier and heavier as his powers grew stronger.

He could make a difference in the world. He could give relief from pain and a return of purpose to Sir Gavin in exchange for a bit of exhaustion, a little help from a few trees, and a few moments of excruciating pain. It seemed like such a reasonable trade that he’d have been a fool not to make it.

But this time... this time, maybe he’d gone too far. Maybe the price was too high, and he’d been too blinded by his success with Sir Gavin to realize the perils of what he was attempting. Now, he was coming face to face with the consequences of his hubris. He’d taken Humility as one of his virtues when he became a knight, but he was doing an awfully poor job of remaining humble when it came to the use of his powers.

Ollie had touched the void on more than one occasion since Lady Nyrielle began teaching him how to use the gift she’d bestowed on him. He’d learned to sense the barrier between life and death. Now, drifting in the icy water with his strength spent and his spirit broken, that barrier seemed very thin indeed.

It would be so easy to let go. To stop fighting. To slip across that threshold and find the peace that always seemed just out of reach in this world of pain and struggle and impossible choices.

How could he choose to let a woman like Lady Cerys die when there was even a chance that he could save her? But if he’d known what it would cost... Would he still have made the same decision? Would he have taken the same risk?

He didn’t know for sure, but a large part of him liked to think he would risk it even if he’d known. A knight should be willing to lay down his life to protect the weak and the powerless, and whatever else he was, he’d finally become a knight... A person worthy of dying a knight’s death. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

All around him, the trees were dead or dying because of what he had done. Perhaps it would be better if he joined them. Perhaps the world would be safer, healthier, if there were one less young fool, meddling with powers he wasn’t ready to wield, and using them drain the life from living things.

His head dipped below the surface of the water, and he didn’t struggle to bring it back up. The cold darkness closed around him, and for a moment it felt almost comforting, almost like an embrace. He could just... let go. Stop fighting. Stop trying so hard to be something he wasn’t sure he could ever truly become.

A mother would hold her child again because of what he had done today. That thought had driven him through the pain, had given him the strength to endure when every instinct screamed at him to stop. But now, looking at the devastation he had caused, he realized that it was time to pay the price for pulling someone back from the very brink of death... And if his life was part of that price... then as a knight, he would accept that.

And then, suddenly, just as he’d made his peace, there were arms around him, strong and sure, pulling him back from the edge of the void.

"I’ve got you," Milo’s voice said in his ear, urgent and frightened and filled with a determination that cut through the fog of Ollie’s despair. "I’ve got you, Sir Ollie. Hold on. Just hold on a little bit longer."

Milo’s powerful tail drove them through the water, fighting against the current that wanted to drag them both downstream. His legs kicked strongly, and one arm wrapped around Ollie’s chest, holding the young witch’s head above the surface while the other arm stroked through the water, pulling them toward the bank.

Ollie wanted to tell Milo to let go, to save himself, that it wasn’t worth the effort. But he couldn’t seem to make his mouth form the words. His body was numb, unresponsive, and even breathing felt like it required more energy than he had left to give.

The world had narrowed to just a few sensations: the icy water flowing past his skin, the solid warmth of Milo’s arm around his chest, the rhythmic pull and push of movement through the stream. Everything else, from the dead trees to the void’s call, and the crushing weight of responsibility he carried for what had happened, faded into the background as Milo fought to bring them both to safety.

"Almost there," Milo gasped, his own strength clearly flagging after the extended time in the frigid water. "Just a little bit further. Stay with me, Ollie. Stay with me."

They reached the shallows where the current was less fierce, and suddenly, there were other hands reaching down to help. Sir Gavin and Sir Bedwyr waded into the water, their faces tight with concern, and between the three of them, they managed to haul Ollie’s limp, unresponsive body up onto the bank.

The young witch wasn’t unconscious... his eyes were still open. But they were shrouded in a deep darkness and gazing at a world beyond the world of the living, and even though they’d pulled him free of the frigid water, none of them knew how to pull him free of the darkness that gripped his soul...