The Vampire & Her Witch Chapter 1962: A Sorcerer Knight is Born (Part One)

"Will you take the first step on the path of the First Warrior and become the first Sorcerer Knight of the Bloodroot Empire?"

To Reynold, the question felt strangely light. It was a serious moment. His father’s life hung in the balance. Thus far, he’d managed to bull his way into becoming a lynchpin in the negotiations between his family and the Southern Steppe, but things had taken a very strange turn when Aspakos interceded in the process.

Aspakos had told Reynold that he had his best interests at heart, but everything that had followed felt more and more like the stuff of fairy stories and less like it had anything to do with him. Great destiny? A blessing from a mythic Oracle? None of it felt real.

But when Aspakos asked if he was willing to bind his fate to the oaths he’d sworn as a knight... That answer was all too easy. And becoming a Sorcerer Knight? After everything he’d seen tonight, he’d already become convinced that sorcery would be a skill he had to master alongside horsemanship, the spear and the lance.

In the world that the empresses were building, there would be little use for knights who couldn’t command the forces he’d seen on display tonight.

"Yes," Reynold said, placing his full faith in the man Empress Ashlynn had chosen to fight in his family’s name. For what Aspakos had done, he deserved Reynold’s trust and more. "As a knight, I will endure what I must to do what is right. If this is what honor demands to protect my father’s life, then I’ll do it gladly," Reynold declared formally.

"Your Eternity," Aspakos said, turning and bowing to Nyrielle. Evidently, the feathered sorcerer was immune to her scowl, appearing completely unbothered as he made his request. "May I borrow a pair of your knights? General Thane and Dame Sybyll," he said before turning to Ashlynn. "Or Sir Ollie."

"For what comes next," Aspakos said. "Lord Reynold will need to be restrained."

"If you intend to turn him into a Templar of some sort," Nyrielle warned sharply, even as she nodded in the direction of the Imperial box. "Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your Trumpet of Dawn," she said, staring at the feathered sorcerer with cold, midnight eyes.

"Nothing of the sort; you have my word," Aspakos said.

On the stone platform, Reynold and Tybal flinched visibly when General Thane and Dame Sybyll seemed to manifest directly out of the darkness of the night. Neither man had seen them move, but between one heartbeat and the next, two powerful, vampire knights stood to either side of Reynold.

"Do ye need him on his knees?" Sybyll asked Aspakos in a sweet, musical tone that was at odds with the mischievous gleam in her crimson eyes. "Or just held down?"

"Reynold, strip to the waist and kneel here," Aspakos said, pointing to the front of the stone platform with the captured spear. "Face the crowd, Reynold, so that Lord Dirar and the Stone Guard can witness what happens next."

On the hillsides, the common people watched with a growing sense of apprehension as Reynold, the champion who had won a glorious victory, was stripped to the waist in the cold winter air and forced to kneel at the front of the stone platform.

Was he about to be executed? Had he cheated in some way that he was being punished for? They didn’t know, but when two vampires stood beside him, each one holding an arm and locking him in place as he knelt, the common folk feared the worst was about to happen, and Aspakos’s next actions did nothing to reassure them.

Glancing over his shoulder, Aspakos carefully assessed the position of the stars in the sky, then adjusted his own position behind Reynold. In a smooth, fluid movement, he pointed the spear at the constellation of the First Warrior, marked by the five bright stars of the First Warrior’s sword.

"A Warrior is more than a man with a weapon," Aspakos intoned in a solemn voice. "A warrior fights with purpose and with restraint. His power grows when his cause is pure. His strength fails when he betrays his vows," he said.

As Aspakos spoke, the soldiers of the Stone Guard shifted nervously while several gemstones on the spear began to glow. That spear belonged to Captain Rastlan, and to Captain Sagra before him, stretching back hundreds of years to the establishment of the Stone Guard. To see an outsider using it in a ritual trampled on the honor of the Stone Guard.

At the same time, the spear itself did nothing to reject the ritual. It allowed itself to be used, and to those who were attuned with the First Warrior, the spear felt almost... eager to participate in the ritual, which only made their feeling of unease grow.

Once the spear gleamed with collected starlight, Aspakos brought it down in a blur of light, stopping just short of Reynold’s skin.

"As a knight, I’m sure you remember your oath," Aspakos said. "Speak it now, and be judged by the First Warrior for every occasion you’ve betrayed it. I will carve your oath into your flesh," he warned. "The more you’ve failed your oath, the more painful this will be."

"General Thane, Dame Sybyll," Aspakos said, glancing at each of the vampires. "No matter what happens, hold him steady. Are you ready, Reynold?"

"I’m ready," Reynold said.

"Then swear your oath," Aspakos commanded. The moment he gave the command, he pierced the skin of Reynold’s shoulder with the tip of the spear, cutting just deep enough to spill blood before pulling back and placing the tip of the spear slightly lower, marking out the next star in the pattern of the First Warrior.

"I am Reynold Aleese, son of Tybal Aleese," Reynold said, gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder and the chill of the night air against his bare skin.

"In this life, I have the honor to be a knight and the privilege to be a lord," Reynold continued, speaking the same words he’d spoken nearly ten years ago after he stood his vigil. Then, he’d worn his finest doublet and stood in the great hall of Aleese Manor while his father tapped his shoulders with a jeweled, ceremonial sword.

Swearing his oath then had been an exciting moment, followed by feasting and dancing and a celebration that lasted from dawn until well into the night.

For many of the knights who came to bear witness at his coming-of-age feast, the oaths were just a formality. A dry, dusty ritual that had to be completed for the sake of appearances. But to Reynold, they’d always meant something more, and he’d done his best to live by them ever since.

He only hoped it was enough...