The Vampire & Her Witch Chapter 1636: Sleepover Stories (Part One)

"The Olive Witch," Jocelynn breathed, her gaze fixed on her sister. Instantly, her mind raced, sifting through fragmented knowledge about the olive groves of Keating, their oil prices, and…

"None of that for now," Ashlynn chided, lightly tapping her sister's forehead. "Concentrate on what truly matters."

"What matters most?" Jocelynn echoed, still reeling from the possibility of becoming a witch like her sister. The concept felt overwhelmingly vast, shadowed by chilling tales of ancient witches, the Evil Queen, and numerous others. Yet, juxtaposed against these fears were visions of the sacred oak and the radiant sapling born from the Lothian throne, alongside her sister's own valiant struggle against the tormentor who had inflicted so much pain upon them both...

So much remained unknown, likely misconstrued, and countless questions probably hadn't even surfaced for Jocelynn to ask Ashlynn. Given all this, what could possibly be the 'most important' thing right now?

"Are you going to help me finish washing, or shall I take over before the water gets cold?" Ashlynn asked playfully, indicating the washcloth Jocelynn held listlessly.

"Oh!" Jocelynn exclaimed, her face flushing crimson with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I..."

"It's alright," Ashlynn interjected. "Some things needed to be said, and I feel better now. I hope you do too," she added, tenderly cupping Jocelynn's cheek and meeting her seafoam eyes.

The pervasive darkness and despair in Jocelynn's expression had receded. Though hints lingered in the downward curve of her eyes and her hesitant glances, Ashlynn now detected a nascent spark of hope within her sister's tear-filled eyes. Thoughts of a future beyond this night seemed to have taken root in Jocelynn's heart.

It was a small step, far from mending the deep emotional wounds Jocelynn had carried for the past nine months, but it was a beginning. And just like the sapling Ashlynn had cultivated in the Great Hall, this fragile start held the potential to blossom into a bond even stronger than their previous one, provided they nurtured it with patience and took things one deliberate step at a time.

"Um, may I ask questions?" Jocelynn inquired, dipping the washcloth back into the water and beginning to gently cleanse the dried blood from Ashlynn's wounds. "About some of the other things you mentioned?"

"Of course," Ashlynn replied, closing her eyes and leaning back in the chair. She let the mingled scents of soap, salty air, and sweet sea grass transport her to brighter times, before Owain Lothian had intruded upon their lives. "Ask me anything..."

For a moment, Jocelynn pressed her lips together, contemplating where to begin. Ashlynn had alluded to so many things in passing, and in the midst of shock, Jocelynn knew she had missed a significant portion, yet a few specific points resonated strongly.

"What is it like?" Jocelynn asked, rising to begin gently detangling her sister's hair from its tight braids worn for the duel. "Living in the Vale of Mists," she elaborated. "Is it... Is it difficult, living among the, um, the Eldritch?"

"It was challenging initially," Ashlynn admitted, recalling her early days in the Vale when she struggled with the profound sense of losing control and becoming disconnected from her former world. "But I found companionship there. Heila was by my side from the outset, caring for me and guiding my understanding of the Vale."

"She is my lady-in-waiting now," Ashlynn added. "And the Willow Witch. You will find her agreeable," she said with a smile. "She isn't tall, reaching only your waist, but she possesses incredible bravery. She saved me on multiple occasions."

"Georg is also wonderful," Ashlynn continued. "He appeared imposing when we first met, as I had never encountered anyone from his clan before. He is as strong as a bear with formidable claws, yet he bakes the most exquisite pastries and prepares the most delicious meals," she explained. "I learned greatly from him while assisting in his kitchens, though I still cannot replicate his culinary artistry."

"They, they made you work in the kitchens?" Jocelynn stammered, her fingers ceasing their ministrations as she stared at her sister in disbelief. "Why would they subject you to that?"

"I wasn't forced," Ashlynn stated. "It was my choice. Following my appointment as Nyri’s Seneschal—which, by the way, is the title for someone bonded by blood to a True Vampire like Nyri—" she clarified swiftly. "After our bond was formed, I was granted some of her abilities, such as enhanced strength and speed, along with heightened senses… and other things…"

"However, I had to diligently train these newfound powers," Ashlynn continued. "Every bit of it required effort on my part. While practicing sword fighting with Thane helped me hone my strength and speed, developing my hearing, sight, sense of smell, and touch necessitated a different approach. I spent time in Georg’s kitchen, learning the art of cooking from him. It was a form of practice, and quite delicious too," she finished with a beaming smile.

"I understand now," Jocelynn murmured, resuming her task of brushing Ashlynn’s hair. "So, their involvement wasn't compulsory. And regarding the Lady of the Vale," she said, circling back to the question that felt too sensitive to broach initially but was the one she most yearned for an answer to.

"You mentioned her name was Nyrielle," Jocelynn voiced hesitantly. "Yet, you refer to her as ’Nyri,’ much like how you call me ’Jocey.’ And you share a blood bond," she connected the dots. "Does this imply she is akin to a sister to you?" Jocelynn inquired.

She snapped her mouth shut the instant the words escaped, before the question burning in her heart could be voiced. 'Does this mean she has replaced me in your life?' Voicing such a thought was unthinkable, yet, each time Ashlynn spoke of the ancient vampire with such tenderness, a familiar, unwelcome emotion stirred within Jocelynn’s own heart.

Jocelynn knew she had no one to blame but herself if Ashlynn found others to occupy the space in her heart that had once been solely hers. However, acknowledging this truth did not lessen the sting of the potential realization.

"Ha, ha, ha," Ashlynn chuckled softly in response to Jocelynn’s query. "No, no, she’s nothing like a sister to me," Ashlynn assured her. "There’s only one person who has truly been like a sister to me, and that’s Amahle, the Mother of Thorns. She's the witch who imparted nearly all my knowledge of witchcraft, and she embraces the idea that we are all family. She’s my spiritual ’big sister’ in the ways of the witch," Ashlynn explained, seeing the tension ease from Jocelynn’s shoulders.

"But Nyri," Ashlynn continued, her eyes opening to observe her sister’s reaction. "Nyri is not a sister. She is my beloved, the one who captivates my heart entirely, and the woman I intend to marry now that my previous… husband… is deceased…"