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"If there had been more time," Ashlynn said apologetically as she held up the knotted piece of wood from the box.

"I would have asked Juni or Milo to carve this into something more elaborate.

This is a cypress knee, part of the barrier the cypress tree builds around itself to keep floods from washing it away," she explained as she turned the gnarled piece of wood over to reveal a carefully carved shield.

"I know you haven’t chosen a crest yet," Ashlynn said.

"But I hope that you’ll stand as a shield at my side, helping me to protect the people who need a guardian the most. When Juni presented me with the hairpin," she said, touching the pinecone-shaped carving on the pin that had found its home in her hatband.

"I asked her to carve this for you. Seeing your village, though," she added with a faint smile.

"Perhaps she should have carved it into a strong wall that could protect an entire town instead. "

"No," Ollie said, tracing his fingers gently along the carving and feeling the intense devotion that Juni had carved into the knot of wood when she shaped one side of it into a shield. A wall might protect the village, but from the way Milo’s wife had shaped the shield, it was clear that she wanted to present something taht would keep him safe.

To the displaced members of the Heartwood clan, Ollie had become more than just a protector of their village, he had almost become a member of the clan itself.

During the summer campaign against Liam Dunn and Loman Lothian, Juni had worried about Milo’s safety, but she’d also been secretly grateful that Ollie hadn’t been forced to join in the battles.

She knew that his time would come one day, and when it did, she would worry about both her husband their young savior.

So when the Mother of Trees asked her to carve an emblem of protection into a piece of wood for Ollie’s ritual, she’d poured her heart and hopes for his safety into the small piece of cypress, hoping to shield the young man from any harm that would come his way.

"No," Ollie said thickly as he ran a thumb over the carving one last time before placing it in its circle of stones. "This is perfect."

"This is the last one," Ashlynn said, holding out a slender, dark feather that seemed to drink in the pale light of the waning moon and the distant, twinkling stars.

"I hoped she might be able to be here to explain this herself, but Mistress Nyrielle has other matters to attend to tonight," she said.

For a moment, a wave of anxiety passed through her as she thought of the very similar ritual that Nyrielle was overseeing this night.

If all went well, Lennart would die tonight, rising again as Zedya’s first progeny.

Ashlynn hoped that Nyrielle’s continued absence didn’t mean that something had gone wrong, but even if something had, there was nothing she could do to help with it now.

All she could do was proceed with Ollie’s ritual and, if something had gone wrong, she would do her best to comfort her lover afterward.

"This is one of Mistress Nyrielle’s feathers," Ashlynn explained, her voice growing more solemn than it had with any of the other gifts. "It’s common to use a feather from a bird to represent wind in this ritual, and Heila and I had collected feathers from birds who roosted in cypress trees for this purpose. Nyrielle’s feather, however, carries something special. "

"She called them the ’Winds of the Void’," Ashlynn said, setting the feather carefully in Ollie’s hands so he could feel the trace of otherworldly energy that clung to the feather. "They blow from a place beyond death and bring with them the power of the grave."

"Why, why would I want to add something like that to my ritual?" Ollie said. His hand trembled as he held the feather, and he could feel an almost haunting chill wind flowing from the feather as it shook in his hand. "This is..."

"It’s a reminder," Ashlynn said, stepping forward to steady his hand that held the feather.

"A reminder that a man who has chosen to stand for Justice will one day be an executioner.

When the time comes that you must slay men who threaten all that you hold dear, she wishes to give you the power to condemn them to the darkness of the void, so that they may never trouble the good people of this world again. "

"She also wants you to know that she considers you to be part of her family," Ashlynn added, placing a hand gently on Ollie’s bruised chest to feel his racing heartbeat.

"You have a place within my family as a member of my coven, but with this, she is accepting you in her family, the same as her own progeny. She cannot give you the strength of a vampire the way she’s done for me, but she can give you this. "

For several moments, Ollie stared at the dark feather in his hands. For something that should be lighter than air, it suddenly felt heavier than his darksteel cleaver. Lady Nyrielle was right, and clearly Lady Ashlynn agreed with her.

So far, Ollie had managed to avoid needing to fight and kill, but once he became a knight and a witch, the day would come when he needed to spill blood and take lives.

Even if he did nothing with the rest of his life other than rule over this already large village, there would come a day when he may need to sit in judgment over a criminal and claim a man’s life as punishment for his crimes.

The feather was a reminder that he was taking on responsibility not only for protecting life, but ending life when it was necessary.

The thought was uncomfortable but... Thane had often told him it was better for people who had the strength to take lives to be uncomfortable with it rather than becoming callus and numb to it.

So long as it was an uncomfortable burden to carry, it was a sign that he understood that it shouldn’t be done carelessly.

If Nyrielle’s feather had felt light in his hand, it would have been a sign that he wasn’t worthy to wield such power. As is, while it wasn’t comfortable, he could accept it in the spirit that it was offered.

"I understand," Ollie said, nodding firmly at Ashlynn before carrying the feather to the final circle of stones that awaited it.

The moment he did, the air itself seemed to grow heavy, and each of the offerings began to emit a faint, dark-greenish energy that carried the scent of damp earth, humid air, and tender young cypress needles.

"Good that you understand," Ashlynn said, gesturing to the larger circle of glowing stones. "Then it’s time to enter the circle...."