The Witch of Thornvale Chapter 16: Recovery and Redemption
The Witch of Thornvale is a literary portal fantasy featuring two distinct characters. It allegorizes Ludwig von Mises’ Six Lessons.
If you’re new here and you missed Acts 1 and II, catch them below:
They may take you a while, but they’re worth the read so you can understand how Drake Ridgeback and Eirwyn Starweaver ended up as borderline outcasts in Cinderglen. Once you’re caught up, read Chapter 16 below.
The Witch of Thornvale: Chapter 16
Throughout the morning, Drake sat with Eirwyn. She closed her eyes a few times, but assured Drake she was just resting them. He passed the time entertaining her with stories from his world, about hockey, what it was like, and how so many people tuned in to watch a bunch of grown men chase a flat ball with a stick.
She opened her eyes halfway when Drake finished. “It’s all they have, isn’t it? Some of them, at least?”
“It’s a shame, I know. Even more of a shame that I thought sports were so important that they’d dictate my whole week. One sport, football, is only played once a week in the fall. Every Sunday. And if my Arizona Cardinals lost back when I was in high school, it’d ruin everything until next Sunday.”
Eirwyn opened her eyes fully and stifled a laugh. Her first laugh since waking up. She clutched one hand to her ribs, but barely winced.
“You doing better?”
“Almost.” She nodded to the pitcher of water on the windowsill. “I think I’m ready for one.”
Drake filled the tin cup halfway and lifted Eirwyn’s head off the pillow high enough for her to take one sip.
“You want more.”
Eirwyn nodded, and this time she clasped both hands around the cup.
Drake again helped tip some into her mouth.
She closed her eyes and swallowed, before relinquishing the cup back to Drake. “This would be embarrassing if I was around those castors. Not even able to hold myself up.”
“You lost a lot of energy.” Drake sat and again resisted the urge to put a hand on her shoulder or even run a comforting hand down her arm.
Eirwyn looked at him as though she read his mind.
“Drake, come closer.”
“How close?”
“Until you’re almost right up against the side of this bed.”
Drake pushed the chair forward and slouched some, but Eirwyn took his hand and pulled it close.
“I need to thank you for what you did. For a couple reasons. One, that you’re sitting here and looking after me.”
“Well, I care about you.”
Eirwyn beamed and traced a pattern in Drake’s palm. “And two. I would’ve died last night if I didn’t hear that–oh, I don’t know how to put it–concern, maybe, in your voice. When I said I’d make my magic collapse onto itself. The way you sounded. I never heard anyone sound like that since my parents were still around.”
“You were intent on ending your life?”
“More than that.” She tightened her grip around his hand. “I was regretting even trying to survive. Why not just end it all when they killed Mom and Dad? What did I really have to live for?”
It was Drake’s turn to inch closer. So close that he was almost climbing onto the bed. “And now?”
“You, Drake. You might be from another world, but you’re my reason to keep going. To help you build a system that will fight off these castors. And maybe even build something we can spread to other villages–like the one we passed last week–to fend off Malcor.”
“We’re going to do a lot of good in this world.”
“Getting that off my chest alone is making me feel better.”
Drake peered into Eirwyn’s eyes, which held way more life now. Passion, even. Almost back to what they were before those castors attacked.
“Hey, I have a question for you.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Those castors. They weren’t dressed like you. They were in black, they wore shoes, and they almost looked like soldiers from the Middle Ages.”
“The what?”
“The Middle Ages.”
“What are the Middle Ages?”
“An era in my world. And not the best one. Classical Antiquity and the Age of Discovery are more interesting.”
“You have a lot to teach me about your world. So, you were talking about why the castors were dressed differently?”
“Yeah, is that how you would’ve dressed if they conscripted you?”
“No.” Eirwyn gestured to her cloak. “I wear this because I summon my magic from two places — the wind and the earth. My bare skin needs to feel them. It’s also why I never wear shoes no matter what. If I did, I’m taking away a place where I could channel my magic.”
“What about if it’s cold out?”
“My body temperature can control itself. The reason that didn’t happen last night was because I overexerted my magical stores until they threatened collapse. But, well, like I said, thinking of you kept that from happening.”
“So I overreacted when I ran that cold cloth down your face and everything?”
Eirwyn shook her head. “I wouldn’t have regained control. Say if it was snowing out and I was on my feet, I’d still have to consciously control it. No, I would have run a fever if you didn’t do that. I guess I owe you again, huh?”
“You don’t owe me anything. If you weren’t leading me through those woods, I’d have probably crossed those soldiers and gotten conscripted, myself. In a best-case scenario.”
“I think we’re a team now. If you want to be.”
“I would like that.”
“I’m feeling even better than I was.” Eirwyn pushed herself upward until she sat against the headboard and pulled Drake over.
He crawled onto the bed, put an arm around Eirwyn, and held her close. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Let’s rest up a little longer, then go and relay our plans to the village tomorrow. And I’ll guarantee that we keep everyone–castors, conscripts, soldiers, even Malcor himself–out.”
Drake spent the rest of the day with Eirwyn and they kept sharing stories. She fell asleep early when night came, this time in his arms. When the sun peeked into their room again, she woke him up.
“You look way better today.”
She checked her brand and threw on the rest of her cloak. “It’s like it’s not even there. I’ll keep checking it, just in case Malcor sends another batch of them. Who are we going to?”
“The innkeeper and her son. They’ll understand more than someone like the blacksmith.”
***
“Was wondering when I’d see you two again.” The innkeeper peered over one of the chalk tablets and set it aside. “I was going to come up and get you if you didn’t make it back down by noon.”
“I needed another day. I think we both did.” Life that Drake hadn’t seen since the attack filled Eirwyn’s face. And that glow. He’d never seen her glow like that as the back of her hand brushed against his. “I couldn’t have had a better caretaker.”
Drake returned Eirwyn’s smile and faced the innkeeper. “We have a proposal for the rest of Cinderglen, if they’d hear us.”
The innkeeper set her elbows on the counter and leaned closer.
“They should know Malcor’s not going to stop. He’ll bring back more soldiers, castors, conscripts, and anyone else if it means avenging those people Eirwyn killed. We want to take the system we built, make it even more powerful, and protect this village against any further attack.”
The innkeeper’s eyes found the front window and she pointed toward it. “You might want to see something.”
Drake wheeled around, and his jaw dropped.
Outside, the villagers kept up their daily trades. But instead of kids running around the square like he anticipated, the quartz circles lit up. Six beacons surrounding a central one. Even the blacksmith pitched in, as did a few others who looked on with skepticism just a few days ago.
“It took some convincing, but eventually, everyone agreed they never would’ve broken if it wasn’t for that peddler and those castors. So, they rebuilt it yesterday and by the afternoon, it was running again.”
“But how? Only me and Eirwyn know the exact method of shifting energy into it.”
Eirwyn looked as though a lightbulb went off in her head. “The castors. When I killed them, their magic collapsed. But that collapsed magic had to go somewhere. When you carried me inside, Drake, and when everyone else went inside, that magic could only go into those quartz crystals. It’s morbid, but true.”
The right corner of Drake’s mouth turned upward. “Hey, it was self-defense.”
“They saw those crystals lighting back up yesterday, so they fixed the circles. This time, they worked so well that the blacksmith, the tanner, and everyone else who had something to say before used them at least once. Today, everyone’s pitching in.” The innkeeper waved them toward the door. “Come get a closer look.”
Drake crossed his arms and twisted his lips. “Then the sooner we get started, the better. Malcor will send more people over before we know it. This gives us even more of an incentive to stay ahead of him.”
“We should talk to them first, though.” Eirwyn took Drake’s hand and led him out the inn’s entrance slash exit. “Everything in me is saying they want to hear from you.”
Catch Drake and Eirwyn rallying Cinderglen in Chapter 17
