The Vampire & Her Witch Chapter 1765: The First Message Arrives (Part One)

Mother Superior Koulma had overseen the Convent of Confession in DuCoumont city for more than twenty years, and she was likely to lead it for twenty more. The gray hair beneath her crimson hood had only begun fading toward white at her temples, and the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes and lips spoke of a woman who thought laughter was the best medicine while her brow was smooth and free of worries.

Her office looked like a museum curated by an eccentric, and every item on display came with its own story. A knight’s sword occupied just as much prominence in the collection as a battered wooden tankard, while valuable tokens of gold and silver had been pushed to the back to make room for a mended copper pot and a hand-embroidered pillow.

The people that Mother Koulma helped over the years weren’t always wealthy, and they expressed their thanks in whatever ways they could. Koulma accepted every offering so long as parting with it placed no hardship on the person she’d helped, just as she’d once accepted a seafoam colored baby blanket from the woman now entering her office.

"You must forgive Sister Noyala," the Mother Superior said as she took a seat behind her cluttered desk while gesturing for Maela to sit in one of the plush armchairs facing her. "She’s accustomed to overseeing girls not yet old enough to take their vows. I’m afraid she’s... uncomfortable with an Initiate several years her senior," she said, even though Maela hardly looked like a woman who had entered her forties.

Maela’s pale blond hair showed no sign of turning grey, and only the faintest of lines graced the corners of her eyes or the space above her brow. Her curves were as ample as they’d always been, but even without the corsets of a noblewoman’s attire, she hardly resembled a woman who had birthed two children.

Whether it was the crisp, clean air of Blackwell or the ease of life enjoyed by a wealthy countess, Maela wore her years well. Something that doubtlessly provoked its own share of jealousy from the common-born members of the convent’s Sisterhood whose bodies bore the marks of lives spent toiling to eke out even meager existences.

"I’ve known many women like Confessor Noyala," Maela said, shaking her head and discarding several cutting comments she would have made if she were speaking with other ladies of the Blackwell Court. She no longer had anything to do with that world, and the sooner she put those habits behind herself, the better.

"I hope she’s able to meet the struggle before her," Maela said, choosing her words with care. "And that she can find a way to balance conviction with compassion."

"In another life, I think you would have made an excellent Mother Superior, Countess Maela," Koulma said, observing Maela’s calm demeanor even sitting in the presence of the most powerful woman in the convent, as if she’d simply come for tea. But then, they’d taken tea together several times over the years, before Maela’s decision to enter the convent as an Initiate had placed so many barriers between them.

"I’m not a Countess anymore," Maela said firmly. "Whether I wait for a year or a dozen years to take the vows, I’ve made my decision. Hearing what happened to Sister Eleanor only makes it more important for me to find a way to help others find their way through the darkness..."

"If you still felt that way by the end of spring, once you’d spent a year in white, I might have let you speak those vows," Koulma said, nodding in acknowledgement of Maela’s determination before reaching for a rolled-up scroll with a broken seal. "That is, until I received this from High Priest Aubin in Lothian City. What do you make of it, Countess Maela?" Koulma asked, emphasizing the other woman’s title.

"I don’t know the High Priest as well as you do, Mother Koulma," Maela said carefully as she took the rolled-up piece of parchment, briefly inspecting the golden wax seal for any sign that it had been tampered with before accepting it as either genuine or an excellent forgery.

"We spoke on a few occasions before... Before Ashlynn’s wedding," Maela said, swallowing down the lump that formed in her throat. "Just details about the service, his choice of hymns and the offerings we’d brought for the ceremony. Not enough for me to know the man well."

"Still, the letter he sent is as mysterious as the man he sent it with," Koulma said. "And I would very much like to know what you make of it."

"Alright..." Maela said, frowning slightly as she unrolled the parchment. As soon as her eyes fell on the page, however, she began to understand Koulma’s concerns.

’The man who bears this message carries my greatest trust. The message he bears must reach Countess Maela, and if you value her life, she should leave with him this night.’

"There was another message? For me?" Maela asked, briefly raising her head before she’d finished reading the first message.

"I have it here," Koulma said, gesturing to a thicker scroll, still sealed in emerald green wax marked with a crest that Maela didn’t recognize. "Finish that one first," the Mother Superior said. "And tell me what you make of High Priest Aubin’s Message."

Maela pursed her lips, wondering what the second scroll that was meant for her might say, but as she returned her gaze to the first one, her eyes opened wide in surprise.

’The time will come soon enough to decide where you stand, Koulma. Abbot Recared is dead, executed for his crimes by a Marchioness wielding a Holy Flame Blade. I have made the only decision my faith allows. The very same decision that I believe Confessor Eleanor Blackwell would have made had she survived to greet this day.’

’If you want to survive long enough to make the decision for yourself, and for the women in your care, then send Countess Maela away and keep this letter only in the fires of your heart, lest the Inquisition find fault with your faith.’

Maela’s eyes swept over the page a second time and then a third and with each re-reading the hand holding the page trembled more and more until she had to set it down for fear of dropping the document.

"So, what do you make of it, Countess Maela?" the Mother Superior asked in a tone that was far milder than the steely look in her eyes. "Do you know something about this message that I don’t?"

"Because every way I’ve looked at it," Koulma said, furrowing her brows as she stared at the letter lying on her desk. "It looks like heresy..."