CHAPTER 861: A BURNED BEAR (PART TWO)

"Sir Tommin’s son did this to you?" Ashlynn said as she drew closer to the bearish vampire, carefully inspecting his singed fur and burned flesh. Painful-looking blisters marred his skin in several places, and in others, it had turned completely black.

A vampire’s regenerative powers were among the most impressive in the world, but there were limits to everything, and fire was one of the most lethal weapons against the progeny of any vampire. Even Nyrielle retreated before intense flames if they contained even the slightest trace of magical power, and her progeny were always careful about their exposure to the hottest of natural flames.

After a minute of careful examination, Ashlynn sighed in visible relief as she found no signs of anything resembling ’holy flames.’ Whatever Sir Tommin’s son had done, he lacked his father’s deep well of faith, and there was no sign that the flames had been anything other than ordinary, which would make healing them considerably easier.

"It’s my fault," Lennart said sheepishly. "Zedya gave the boy to me. She thought that a child’s mind would be easier to mesmerize," he said as his amethyst eyes twinkled in the light of the campfire. "But the boy was already half-crazed from the Nightweaver Venom. I don’t know if it was a fever dream borne of the venom or my own failure to mesmerize him, but instead of seeing me as his father come to visit him, he saw me as something terrifying and doused me in lamp oil."

"That, that must have been horrifying," Ollie said numbly as he tried to imagine what it must have been like for anyone to be lit ablaze, much less a vampire with their exceptional vulnerability to flames.

"Here, drink," Virve said as she drew a dagger from her belt and cut deeply into her palm, spilling blood freely into a small wooden cup. "Lady Ashlynn said that a witch’s blood can help a vampire to heal, so, drink up, Captain," she insisted.

"And I won’t hear a word from you about not taking from your own men this time. You don’t get to command me anymore," she reminded, teasing him lightly and sticking her tongue out at him even as she extended the cup of blood that was so fresh and warm that it steamed in the chill night air.

Virve’s tone was light, but her golden eyes flashed with deep concern as she looked at her friend of many years. She’d been so accustomed to thinking of Nyrielle’s progeny as wise elders, skilled in the use of their powers and nearly invulnerable to anything but the greatest threats that she’d forgotten that their strength didn’t manifest in an instant when they survived the transformation into a vampire.

Just like she had much to learn about being a witch, Lennart would need several years before he became a master of his new powers. In the meantime, while it would take years to gain that mastery, he had gained the unique vulnerabilities of vampires all at once, making this one of the most dangerous times of his entire life.

Part of her wanted to speak up, to ask Ashlynn if Lennart really needed to be included in the remainder of this war while he learned to use his powers. Instead of speaking, however, she bit her lip and held back the anxious words that fluttered like butterflies caught in her throat. It wasn’t her decision, and if anyone needed to speak up on behalf of her old friend, it was his new wife, Madame Zedya.

"Thank you, Virve," Lennart said in a rough, husky voice as he took the small cup almost reverently. His eyes blazed with a pale amethyst light as hunger surged within him. Just the sight of the potent blood in the cup was enough to make it difficult to hold on to his rationality, and when the smell reached his nose, he lost what restraint he had, drinking greedily from the cup and licking up every last drop of the sweet, slightly metallic liquid.

Drinking from a cup prevented a truly intimate connection from forming between the ravenous vampire and the Oak Witch, but he could still taste how much she cherished their friendship and her deep, genuine concern for him in every drop of the intoxicating blood.

When the steaming liquid slid down his throat, it triggered a surge of feeling within him, stoking the fires of his heart and reminding him of the feelings of deep camaraderie with his fellow soldiers that had begun to feel strained since his transformation into a vampire. In this case, it wasn’t the millstone of time that wore away at his heart, but the natural distance that grew between him and his former companions when his station in the Vale changed so dramatically all at once.

With the surge of feeling came a dramatic acceleration of his body’s natural healing. Singed fur fell away as fresh fur grew in to replace it, and blackened, blistered skin sloughed off to reveal healthy, pink skin underneath. In the span of a few dozen heartbeats, Lennart stood straight and proud, without the slightest trace of the terrifying burns that had marred his flesh just minutes ago.

"Lord General Thane wasn’t kidding the other night," Lennart said as he looked at the fresh fur on his arms in wonder. "A witch’s blood really is a panacea like no other."

"Good that you appreciate it," Virve said a heartbeat before she slammed a fist into his shoulder hard enough to bruise even a vampire’s flesh. "Now don’t go getting yourself hurt again just so you can have another taste! But, if you are hurt," she said with a look of genuine concern on her face. "You come straight to me."

"Come to any of us," Ashlynn added as she took Virve’s still bleeding hand and allowed a soft, emerald healing energy to spill from her smaller, delicate hands, quickly healing the wound that Virve had inflicted in order to offer Lennart the blood he needed to heal.

"Family doesn’t hesitate to ask when they need help," Ashlynn said as she turned back to Lennart. "Was Zedya injured in the fire? Does she need my help to heal?"

"No," Lennart said as his ears twitched in embarrassment. "She moved quickly to avoid the flames and mesmerized several of the guardsmen to fight the fire. The boy suffered a few small burns, though, and his mother breathed in a good amount of smoke. Both of them could use your help, Lady Ashlynn, beyond just cleansing the Nightweaver Venom from their bodies and their minds."

"In that case, I shouldn’t linger," Ashlynn said as she took a last glance at Isabell’s sleeping figure and the other members of her coven watching over her. "I’ll be back in the morning so we can continue our work," Ashlynn said. "But I expect to be gone for much of the night. Once I’ve healed Sir Tommin’s wife, I have questions that I need to ask her so I can decide whether or not I should spare her husband’s life..."