The Vampire & Her Witch-Chapter 1150: Speaking the Unspeakable (Part One)

The air in the formal dining room became a little heavier after Nyrielle mentioned her parents fleeing the First Crusade, bringing beets and who knew how many other things with them as they sought refuge from the Church who had declared them heretics for ruling over a domain that welcomed the Eldritch as neighbors and trading partners rather than treating them as force of evil that had to be eradicated.

Sensing the shifting mood, Georg quietly slipped out to retrieve the next set of dishes while people finished their artfully plated salads.

"I knew that High Inqu-, er, that Ignatious had been here since the Brother’s War," Diarmuid said delicately in an attempt to restart the conversation. "But I didn’t realize that your family had been here so long, your Eternity," Diarmuid said carefully. "Are there humans in the Vale who came with them, or their descendants rather?" 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"There were a few retainers who accompanied them here," Nyrielle said with a wistful smile and a distant look in her midnight blue eyes as she thought back to her earliest memories. "Men and women who had been so close to my parents that it was impossible for them to escape accusations of heresy once the Church finally arrived with their armies in Willowcreek Barony."

"For the most part, they did everything they could to allow the people of Willowcreek to keep their lands and homes under the rule of the nascent Kingdom of Gaal," Nyrielle said, delicately blotting the juices of tender beets from her lips with a napkin after finishing her salad.

"My parents were the kind of people who would give up almost anything in order to save those they could from the ravages of the Church," she added, closing her eyes momentarily against the flood of memories that accompanied her words.

The Vale of Mists was in flames, trees and homes burning under the horrific second sun that hung in the night sky like a fiery herald of doom. The screams of the people, innocent townsfolk and soldiers alike as they fought and died had been bad enough, but the sound of her father’s voice, calm and steady as he ordered men to help her escape, to carry her away even if she fought back against them...

For years afterward, she’d hated the fact that her parents hadn’t allowed her to fight alongside them, and she’d wondered if her presence could have turned the tide in that terrible battle. It was only later, as she grew into her powers as the Harbinger of Death, that she realized how futile it would have been to fight against one of the Church’s Exemplars before she’d mastered her own strength.

Ironically, it was the capture of Ignatious that allowed her to forgive her parents for sending her away that night. Once he’d become her progeny, it was impossible for him to keep secrets from her, and she hadn’t been gentle with him as she extracted everything he knew about the Church, the Inquisition, and the forces behind them.

Everything that happened after that, from handing him over to the Mother of Thorns and High Lord Hamdi to her long, painful, decades of slow simmering war against the Lothians and the Church had been a result of the things she learned from him and a profound desire to avoid provoking the Church who could send more than a dozen Exemplars and two Saints against her if they wished to.

It hadn’t been easy, and countless people had suffered in the process, but in the end, she didn’t know if she would have chosen any differently after learning everything she now knew.

"Nyri," Ashlynn said gently, reaching out under the table to place a hand on her lover’s thigh and giving her a gentle squeeze to help her return to the present as she felt the memories threatening to overwhelm Nyrielle.

"You don’t have to share," Ashlynn said gently. "Not in front of so many, and not tonight. It’s enough for them to know how much effort your parents put into sparing their people from the Church’s Crusade when they fled to the Vale of Mists, and how much they came to care for the nation that took them in when they arrived."

"I’m sorry, your Eternity," Diarmuid said, setting down his fork as he found himself unable to enjoy the artisanal dish after coming face to face with an ancient vampire’s grief and pain... Pain that his own order within the Church was responsible for. "I shouldn’t have asked," he added as he bowed his head low in apology.

"It isn’t wrong that you asked, Inquisitor," Nyrielle said gently, offering the dark-haired man a fragile smile as she dabbed a faintly pinkish tear from the corner of her eye. "If I didn’t want to speak of it, then I wouldn’t have."

"My darling believes that we can unify this region," Nyrielle said, and though the idea sounded implausible to some of the guests at the table, when she spoke, her voice didn’t contain the slightest trace of doubt. "But she believes that to do so, we must acknowledge the pains on both sides of this war."

"I have fought young Loman’s family for half my long life," Nyrielle said as she looked to the opposite end of the table where the one-armed lord sat staring at her with a carefully neutral expression. "His ancestor killed my parents and my grandsire," Nyrielle said bluntly. "In return, I killed his ancestor, and his family has been locked in endless struggle with the Vale and me ever since."

"If we never speak of these things," Nyrielle said as she turned back to face Diarmuid. "If we bury them down deep and pretend they never happened because they’re too painful to be said aloud, then we can never heal."

"Ignatious has taught me a great deal about what it takes to heal," she said with a much warmer smile directed at the progeny she had come to see as something of a long-lost son after exiling him for close to eighty years. "And one of the things I’ve learned is that it takes a measure of courage to face the pain, and honesty to admit that it hurts. Wouldn’t you agree, Inquisitor Diarmuid?"