CHAPTER 1056: THE MOTHER OF FORESTS (PART TWO)

"The Mother of Forests had twenty witches in her coven," Nyrielle said, gazing into Ashlynn’s emerald eyes as she watched the thoughts turning over in her mind. "She spread them across the world to reclaim the soil of the earth from frozen wasteland, and every year, the scattered, surviving Eldritch clans grew stronger because of the gifts her trees provided to the people..."

"Twenty one," Ashlynn said with a faint smile. "She had seven witches of the branch, seven of the nut and seven of the fruit. She gave the people strong wood to shelter them from the cold and to burn hot through the winter nights, hearty nuts to last through winters that were still far too long, and sweet fruits to delight them and give them hope for brighter days."

"If there was a witch that even the Church would have to call a Saintess, then she was the one," Ashlynn said in tones of deep admiration. She’d been called ’Saintess’ by more than one human who didn’t understand the truth of power in this world, but she’d never once felt worthy of the title. In her mind, a person became a Saint or Saintess because of their deeds, not because of the power they held, and she hadn’t done anything remotely worthy of that much respect.

"It was a long time ago," Ashlynn said, though perhaps to Nyrielle and the other True Vampires, it hadn’t been that long. "Even Amahle doesn’t have many records from the era of the Mother of Forests. But she said that what the Mother of Forests did, cultivating a coven of that size, was incredibly dangerous, and she and her coven would have died countless times over without the protection of the Sovereign of Stars and his Celestial Court."

"Jalal’s people refer to them as the ’First Ones’," Nyrielle said, biting her lower lip as she wondered if Sybyll had been successful in keeping her neighboring Eldritch Lord away from the battlefield. Knowing Jalal, she doubted it. The old cat had too many reasons to draw his blades and dance with death against Ian Hanrahan’s forces to stay his hand. Hopefully, his blood hadn’t grown so hot that he got himself in trouble in the battle for Hanrahan Town.

"I’ve been thinking about the end of the Age of Ice a great deal since I found my teacher’s writings in the tomb of Hauke’s ancestors," Nyrielle said. "It took all three of our powers to bring the Eldritch peoples back from the brink. Vampires to end the Age of Ice, an Oracle to lead people back into the world and help them live together, and a Witch to transform the world into one that they could live in again..."

"You think the Church is another catastrophe, like the Age of Ice?" Ashlynn asked. In truth, she hadn’t put as much thought into the secrets that Amahle had shared with her as Nyrielle had. Too much of her focus had been on preparation for her upcoming conflict with the Lothians to think much about the power the Church had stolen and the greater implications of that theft, but, when Nyrielle drew the parallel so clearly, it was hard to ignore.

The Age of Ice happened because a clan of Frost Walkers with Iridescent Horns did something to fundamentally alter the order of the world, covering much of it in sheets of ice that were as thick as mountains were tall. By the time the ice receded, maps had to be redrawn. Whole rivers, valleys and inland seas had been destroyed by the ice, and new ones carved in their place.

Now, the Church had stolen the power of multiple Oracles, breaking the cycle that allowed that power to return to the world when one Oracle died, and preventing a new one from being born among the people who most needed their guidance. Doing so allowed humanity to conquer the old countries, and to cross the seas to do it again... but everyone else was diminished because of it.

"Twenty one witches," Ashlynn whispered as she considered Nyrielle’s words. "Do you really think I could raise so many?"

"I doubt that most people could," Nyrielle said as she pulled Ashlynn’s hand up between them, pressing it between her breasts so that Ashlynn could feel her beating heart. "But you plant seeds of deep love and admiration in the people whose lives you touch. Just look at how much young Ollie has transformed since meeting you, and ask yourself if he would have done the same if the witch he’d encountered had been Amahle."

As Nyrielle spoke, Ashlynn felt the strong, steady beat of her lover’s heart just beneath her palm. It was the same beat that echoed in her own chest, helping to keep her grounded and steady even as the magnitude of Nyrielle’s suggestion made her heart tremble and shake.

"I’ve seen the way people you’ve helped look toward you, long after you’ve left the room," Nyrielle said. "I’ve heard them speak of you when you aren’t around. From the hunter, Eamon, to Sir Tommin’s wife, Rosie, you’ve swept up several people who would dedicate their lives to helping your cause if you had a place for them..."

"To me, the question isn’t whether you can raise twenty-one witches or not," Nyrielle said confidently. "The question is whether or not you’ll stop at twenty-one. And if you provoke a calamity by trying," she added as she gently stroked Ashlynn’s cheek. "Then I promise to fight by your side."

"I know you’re not the Mother of Forests," Nyrielle said quietly as she pressed her forehead up against Ashlynn’s. "You won’t be content to be protected the way the Sovereign of Stars is said to have protected the Mother of Forests and her coven. You’ll fight on the front lines alongside your witches. But you won’t fight alone," she promised.

"I’ll always be at your side, even if the entire world turns against us. Because I love you," Nyrielle whispered, closing her eyes and savoring the warmth of Ashlynn’s touch along with her unique, evergreen scent. "I love you, and nothing else matters more than you..."