Alchimia Rex (096 & 097)

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AN: In the previous chapter I mixed up Captain Eustine and Captain Deneva (woops!).

Eustine is the Dark Elf and part of the rebellious wildlings. She’s in Barry’s group, and under Embla’s command. Deneva is with the kingdom, and right-hand-maiden to the Earl of Balet.

Confusion stemmed because they’re both ranked as “captains”. Fixed!

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[096] [Table Manners (Dia)]

"Halt! Who goes there?"

Upon being asked the question, Dia stood as proudly as she could, making sure she held the stick tipped with white cloth signifying peaceful intent alongside the purple cloth to signify the 'house' they belonged to. "I am Dia of Cross, and I am accompanied by Monica of Cross, also known as Whiteclaw. We are a Rapha and a Sabertooth. Captain Deneva knows of us."

There was a little bit of satisfaction from seeing the two knights physically twitch. Their visors turned from one side to the other, looking for Monica but not finding her. "Stay where you are and wait for confirmation," the taller of the two proclaimed, power walking away from the scene with the nervousness of someone expecting to be attacked on the way out.

The silence that followed was a tense one, the remaining knight trying to pretend that they weren't looking at every shadow within the forest and failing. Dia could understand her nervousness; Monica had hidden her presence well enough she doubted anyone could spot her. But as amusing as the knight’s awkwardness was, her own gut was a knot. She’d used a spell to soothe the feeling a while ago, but dared not do another lest it make things too obvious.

"Remove your helmet."

The voice made Dia jump a little. The source had not emerged near the knight but further to her right. Captain Deneva stepped into view in her full armored glory, holding her helm under one arm and a short sword in the other. The maiden looked like she’d just emerged from a bath, her emerald hair primly combed into a short ponytail, silver eyes swelling with power and control.

It was the exact kind of visage Dia would’ve imagined the perfect warrior to look like, cool, composed, and pristine no matter the situation. Just a year ago she would’ve pretended to be in the presence of a royal knight, let alone a captain. Now she hated how easy the Swordmistress made it look.

"And know that you are in the presence of Deneva Lightedge, Swordmistress and Royal Knight Captain of Earl Tylen the Magnanimous, of house Vittchat."

The proclamation came with a boom of power, an invisible roar that exploded out from her, hammering against Dia like an avalanche. Dia’s legs trembled as she fought to remain upright on her own two feet, hands shaking as she pulled her helmet off.

Their gazes met, and she held it for a full second before lowering her focus to the Swordmistress’ chin. She locked her legs in place so that she could remain firmly in place, drawing in a sharp breath.

"I come in representation of temporary Lord Rick Cross; he desires to parlay."

Deneva’s gaze narrowed. "Rick Cross is no Lord of this kingdom. On whose authority does he claim such a title?"

Dia squared her shoulders. "He is overseeing Sinco’s safety at the moment."

The words were bile in her tongue, wrong on every level, but these were the orders she’d been given, and this was the role she was to fulfill. Rick had made it clear his position held no official backing, and they should act in exactly that way. All of it to remove potential room for accusations or misunderstandings.

Slowly the tide of power began to recede, and Dia let out a barely audible sigh.

"What is the cause for your presence here?" Deneva asked. "And why do you bring an Orc scouting party with you?"

Dia flinched at the second question, she’d thought the Orcs and Urtha were back far enough to remain undetected, but it seemed Deneva’s senses were as sharp as her sword. A sword she’d yet to sheathe.

"Temporary Lord Rick unified the Orcish tribals in the southern region of the kingdom, and through his leadership, they defeated the feral rush that threatened to overwhelm Sinco's defenses." Truths, but not all the truth. Dia could not speak freely, especially of the weapons Rick had created. But there were many other things she needed to be careful of. "We learned the attack had a leader, that she’d used parasitic plants to make the ferals incredibly aggressive. He brought his forces here in search of finishing her before she could gather strength once more."

Deneva’s grip on her sword tightened. “And Lord Thorley of House Darkton? Where is he now, and how come he is not fulfilling his duties?”

Dia swallowed. “Under the supervision of a truth detection spell, Lord Thorley confessed to conspiring with the Vampire Lords.”

“A plot Rick just happened to find out about when approaching Sinco with a minor warband of Orcs under his command.”

The silence grew stiff, and the knight guard lowered her hand to the pommel of her blade while Deneva did not move a hair. Dia knew she posed no threat, nor would she be able to react were an attack to occur. The only chance of protection against violence was Monica… wherever the feline was.

What did that leave her with?

Sucking in breath, she stepped closer to Deneva, though just barely to keep herself at a polite and well-intended six meters of separation. Neither truly needed to be closer to the other, and though Dia stood at a significant disadvantage even with the space between them, to increase it would only signal reluctance to engage in conversation.

“The Vampires had taken control of the Orc tribes, and we fought them off. We took to Sinco under the hopes that they would welcome us, seeing how their military might had been greatly diminished under the feral onslaught.”

Deneva’s perfect brows lowered. “How… convenient. I take it you will not answer if I asked what ‘temporary’ Lord Rick’s intentions are with the city?”

“It is not my place to assume his goals,” she bowed her head a little, feeling mild satisfaction at a more proper return to the sort of conversation she could handle.

The relief furthered when Deneva sheathed her blade.

“You and… Whiteclaw… are allowed the protections of a parlay.”

It went unsaid that this did not mean she’d granted Dia’s request, only that they could now properly sit down and talk. The Swordmistress promptly turned around to head further in, implying Dia to follow.

Monica was somewhere, she hoped, but the feline was not making herself visible, which was fine. Remaining impossible to see and hidden was better than starting a fight. Dia could only hope the feline wasn’t plotting anything.

Passing the first perimeter, it became clear the knights had not been sitting idly. Defensive structures had been raised all around the monstrous tree that was the “palace.” The tree itself appeared impervious to even attempting drilling, to which the response had been to create simple barricades composed of sharpened logs. The whole thing was clearly meant to slow down a potential charge from those within.

There were also subtler signs of construction; metal wire appeared to be present on every walkable surface leading to or coming out of the tree. Dia recognized them as simple enchanted detection devices, ones that would ring if any maiden came close.

The knights had no intention to allow someone to sneak out of the “palace,” and were taking no risks.

Further away from the tree were other maidens tirelessly working. Centaurs for the most part, scouring various edifices and dumping whatever they found into piles so that they could be processed and checked over.

They couldn’t have gotten here more than two days prior. The scale of the operation didn’t appear small by any measure. Dia had only ever heard of war-parties and platoons, but this was the first time she’d seen one outside the city.

It appeared the Earl had chosen to make a serious push into the forest.

Dia wondered how it had been made possible. Surely they hadn’t spent all these resources on blind luck.

Whatever the case was, she had to focus on the negotiations ahead.

Leading the way into a surprisingly humble cloth tent, Deneva was greeted by several maidens dressed in light leather armor, a stark contrast to the pale blue murisium armor the knights wore. Pages, or closer to combat-capable apprentices until they earned their knighthood. They happened to be the most frequent visitors to the medicen back when Dia worked in Balet.

Deneva dismissed them with a gesture and proceeded to cast three spells within the span of as many seconds. The movements had been swift and precise, the speed catching Dia off guard. She’d barely recognized two of the spells meant for privacy, and had to assume the third one was as well, seeing how the captain had not bothered to hide her impressive skill.

Her host sat down on one of the only two available chairs. Hers was a simple wooden stool, devoid of decorations or embellishments. Meanwhile, Dia’s only option was something more “proper” for a diplomat, a seat carved with the shapes of flowers of various shapes and sizes.

Dia might have mistaken the move as a sign of humility, but she’d seen Rick do the exact same thing more than once. In the hands of her human, it was a sign that he did not see himself above anyone, and that his power came from those that followed his leadership. In the hands of Deneva, it was a sign that her station and power merited a smaller chair if only to make things “fairer” in the exchange.

“We found that amongst the belongings of the wildlings,” the captain proclaimed without fanfare, her gaze turning to a seemingly empty corner of the tent. After a moment staring, she returned her attention to Dia. “What is your purpose here, Dia of Cross?”

She straightened her back and raised her chin slightly. “Our primary wish is to ensure the death of the one responsible for the attack on Sinco. A Pinielf.”

“I see,” the captain stated plainly. “Why should we allow you to aid us?”

The question presented an uncomfortable truth: that indeed it did not appear as if they had any need for the Orcs. By the looks of it, the palace was entirely surrounded, and it would only be a matter of time before they got inside. If Dia were in charge of this operation, she would’ve turned herself away without a second thought. The Orcs were an unknown factor, and taking their help would present risks.

“We suspect this is not the only base of operations the wildlings possess. According to a prisoner we caught, there is also an Elven grove further in. This might prove-”

“An Elven Grove,” Deneva cut her off, her voice sharp, speaking as if Dia had just insinuated an insult of some sort. “And why would this Pinielf seek refuge there? Sleeping Elves, if any are to be found there, they cannot pose a threat to anyone.”

Dia bit her lip. This was one of the topics Rick had not taken a hard stance on. It was within her discretion to reveal further details, but would they prove useful? Information was the only advantage she held in this exchange, and there was very little of it.

“The Pinielf had been a High Elf, awakened by the wildlings at some point late last spring.”

Her own words sounded preposterous; Dia still had a hard time believing them. Elves going feral was a deathmark, an endless deep sleep they could not be woken from. But the otherworlders had changed that.

She hoped that the truth-spell Deneva was undoubtedly using would provide enough weight to the claim. Yet the maiden across from her didn’t react, not openly. The only sign anything had changed was how still she’d become, as if she’d been frozen in time, eyes locked on a point in the infinite, far away and invisible to everyone else.

“Reiterate that statement, elaborate.”

Dia shivered at the lack of inflection in Deneva’s words. There were no emotions, nothing save a sharp steel. It was akin to witnessing an unsheathed blade; there was no need to have the weapon pointed at her to know how dangerous it was.

“They awakened a feral High Elf, and she ascended into a Pinielf by her own hand soon after. She had knowledge of how to do it and acquired the resources from the palace you now besiege.” Dia leaned forward, elbows resting against her knees. “According to our prisoner, the maiden in question had been asleep since before our kingdom was founded, from a time this land was under the control of the ‘Green Empire’.”

She emphasized her words to push forward that she still saw this kingdom as her home, a gesture that earned the most imperceptible of nods from Deneva. The maiden shifted slightly in her armor, appearing to seek some minor comfort. “Any proof or merely their assumption?”

Dia nodded. “She taught them how to awaken the palace’s defenses, or at least whatever is currently allowing them to block entry.” Drawing breath, she made a gesture outside. “According to her statement, the palace has a limited amount of energy, and the defenses themselves aren’t at their full capacity as age has eroded them greatly. With any luck, there might be gaps, ones that would make penetrating the palace a shorter endeavor.”

That earned further approval; Deneva made a gesture towards the tent’s entrance, and a maiden fully decked in knight armor hurriedly stepped inside. “I’d like to begin another full sweep of the tree’s protective wards. See if anything has changed since the first time, note if any spot appears anomalous.”

“Yes, captain!” The maiden saluted and promptly left.

Deneva’s gaze shifted to the empty corner from earlier, lingering half a second and then focusing back on Dia. “After your departure from Balet, we discovered the corpse of the Vampire that attacked you. Unfortunately, the Sabertooth got away.” She leaned back slightly. “The Earl could not discover any ties leading to nobility within the kingdom, most likely they were operating under the command of the tribes to the southwest of our kingdom.”

This had to be some sort of peace offering, perhaps a soft trade for the bit of information Dia had just provided. She appreciated the gesture but couldn’t freely speak on the matter. Rick had made a strong point that there had been someone within the kingdom providing aid to the Vampires’ attempt to overtake Sinco. A ploy that could very well include deep connection to the wildlings the knights were currently attacking.

For all Rick knew, the Earl himself could be that person, and this raid was an attempt to erase any chances of being discovered. There was just no way to be certain currently. Even if Deneva claimed to the contrary under a truth spell, there was the chance that she was just not made privy to everything the Earl did.

She doubted it was the case, but there were just too many variables to consider.

“We appreciate the effort Earl Vittchat has put forward,” Dia said instead.

“The blood-reader the Earl hired to investigate did discover something concerning, however.”

Where was this coming from? A blood-reader was any maiden with the capacity to read the past of someone else. These were rare and expensive if what she’d heard held any truth. Then again, the rumors also claimed a blood-reader could peer into the past of anyone living or dead so long as they touched anything belonging to you.

“I am unsure of a blood-reader’s capabilities; I have never met one. There are many tall tales of what they can do, however,” Dia said.

“Seeing how she found the Vampire’s life had ended at the hands of a Succubus, I would at least hope for some awareness on this matter.”

Deneva didn’t smile, but the trap was clearly there for Dia to step into. Her mind rushed through the last time they’d met. Had Kiara’s nature been revealed at the time? It felt like such a long time ago that she wasn’t entirely sure anymore, only that Deneva’s orders had trapped her into engaging the wildling Sabertooth.

Thinking quickly, she pushed back. “I take it this would be the same maiden that was present during our last encounter?”

"When in doubt and under a truth spell, asking a question was the easiest way to deflect. It was not a statement of fact, thus it could not be a falsehood."

The captain’s posture tensed ever so slightly. “There were other reports verifying the presence of a charmer within the kingdom. She’d infiltrated the kingdom through Astunes, just shortly after you’d left.” Despite her impassive face, her gaze was cold. “We found the human she’d been bonded to during her trip to Balet.”

Dia’s heart skipped. “I take it he was aptly punished?”

“He took his own life before we could interrogate him. Had he been found to be a willing conspirator, the sentence would’ve been to hang.” She allowed the words to hang like a blade over Dia’s head. “Yet if he’d been coerced, then he would’ve walked free.”

Neither moved, staring each other down, silently measuring the other. Dia could feel cold sweat running down her back. Her bond screamed at her to confess, to claim Rick was no conspirator, that the Succubus had pushed him into a corner. It was true even if in a twisted way, but the bond didn’t care, it would cheat and lie and kill if it was the only way to save Rick’s life.

“I see,” was all she said instead.

The following silence was only possible because it was the other way to ensure her human’s survival, even if at the risk of discovery.

Her counterpart broke the silence. “We could not find any tracks left, nor a body, after Balet. It was as if the charmer vanished into thin air. Needless to say, the Earl was very much alarmed by this. A charmer poses a major threat to any kingdom.” She leaned forward. “The King himself has agreed to the seriousness of this threat and has quietly assured that a noble title would be a… fitting reward for anyone responsible for the capture of such a monster.”

“B-but public-”

“The statement cannot be made public, of course.” Deneva cut her off. “If the charmer is currently merely hiding, a public outcry would push them into further caution. Besides, a noble title is a tempting enough reward that many would harm strangers if only for a chance at grasping such a prize.”

Dia nodded, swallowing hard, mentally clutching at the truth-detection pendant the constable had so graciously loaned to Rick.

A title of nobility. A real title, granted by the King himself. Not something claimed through force and as flimsy as the support of a wildling tribe of Orcs. Her breath was tight against her throat.

This was it, she knew, and the Swordmistress knew it too, they were aware that this was everything Dia could’ve wanted for Rick. It was everything any maiden could ever want for her human.

To be rid of Kiara and earn a real noble title in one fell swoop.

It would set them up comfortably until they grew old and wrinkled.

It would be perfect.

“I-I doubt that even if I knew anything, there could be something done by reporting it to you.” She stated. “After all, there are humans here who’d take the glory, we’re but maidens, we could not be able to stop some noble, a-and…”

“There are no nobles here. The operation is too delicate for that.” Deneva spoke with a soft reassuring discipline, the same tone a mentor would use when urging a student to learn. “The Earl saw it fit to keep things discreet; it would not do to divulge that wildlings took not one but two otherworlders.”

Dia nodded quickly.

Deneva proceeded. “To us, our priority is the retrieval of Miss May Brown and Mister Barry Dodson. After that, our orders are to ensure their safe return without any… fuss.” She leaned closer. “I do not see why an otherworlder such as Mister Rick could not take the accolades of the eradication of the charmer. The Earl had been seeking an excuse to elevate such a capable man into a title of his own after all.”

What went unsaid was that even Rick would not need to know. A maiden’s secret, a deal struck between equals that would never reach human ears. Dia could see the lingering certainty, and the path ahead, but perhaps Monica… she glanced at the shadow in the corner of the-

“Whiteclaw is not there,” Deneva said. “She left a few minutes ago, though I cannot fathom why. Perhaps she grew bored. Whatever the case, your privacy is assured.”

The Rapha closed her eyes, clenching her hands into fists.

She only needed to say yes.

An odd wave of relief washed over her. Dia gasped at the suddenness and briefness of its presence. It lasted for a split second, but the source had been clear enough: the bond. Her eyes snapped in the direction, in the exact direction she knew would lead her to Rick. Had he managed to reach out despite the distance? Or had he gotten closer? She couldn’t tell; the link that allowed the feat had gone quiet once more.

“Something wrong?”

Deneva asked, peeking in the same direction Dia had.

“No, it’s… nothing wrong.” She answered, taking a deep breath and addressing her fellow. “I am sorry, Captain Deneva, but this topic would be outside what is required of me. You will need to speak to Lord Rick about this matter.” She squared herself once more. “That is, if you grant him parley.”

Something in the Swordmistress shifted, a tiny bit of warmth seeping into her words. “A maiden must do as she is bidden.” It was a simple statement, and perhaps it’d been Dia’s imagination, but she could’ve sworn she saw relief in Deneva’s eyes. “Is there anything else about the palace defenses your prisoner might know of?”

“I am uncertain. If there was more, I was not made privy to that information,” Dia shook her head earnestly, letting out a tiny sigh, wanting nothing but to slump into her armor and stay out of sight for the next few days. She eyed the maiden for a moment. “Who is Miss May Brown? I remember hearing the name before, but not where.”

“You should have. She is one of Mister Rick’s former students.”

Dia jolted a little at that, eyes widening. “Our prisoner claimed the Pinielf is experimenting on her,” she declared without a second of wait. Of course, she should’ve known. Embla had informed that there was a second pureblooded human, but that she’d known very little on the matter since it’d been handled by the Warlock.

“I see.” She stood up. “Then I believe it will be apt to accept your Lord’s parley. We might see the need to get aid from those Orcs after all.”

Standing with a little enthusiasm herself, she reached out to offer a hand to shake. The smile was honest. “This has been a fruitful meeting, and I am thankful for your open-mindedness in this matter.”

The moment their hands clasped, Deneva’s grip turned into a bone-crushing vice. The protection of the armored glove proved enough to keep the grip from being painful. In that moment, the Swordmistress stepped closer, looking down into her eyes with the coldness of steel. “Tell me, who does Mister Rick serve?”

She didn’t flinch. “No one.” She would’ve preferred if it had hurt. It was that uncaring icy apathy that made her feel like she should run at the first opportunity. “He serves no one.”

“Then how does he control an Orc tribe?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “How did he come to rule a city?”

“By making his enemies regret pointing their claws at him.” Dia hissed back, bravely stepping towards the Swordmistress rather than away, leaning close enough she could feel Deneva’s breath against her skin.

And then licking the Swordmistress’ nose.

Deneva was startled, pulling back and letting go, one hand on the pommel of her blade while the other cleaned the spittle from her nose.

“He’s done so through doing things none expected from him.” With a firm nod, she turned towards the tent entrance. “I will inform my Lord that his request to parlay has been agreed to.”

It took considerable effort to not just run out of there; her heart was beating so hard, and she was drenched in sweat. Walking stiffly, Dia counted the number of times she should’ve been killed over such a stunt. With her heart thundering at a gallop inside the metal confines of her armor, she reeked of panic and fear, every part of her practically shaking uncontrollably.

If this was what Rick felt every time he pulled a stunt, then it was a miracle his hair had not turned white from stress by now.

“Now, where is Monica!?” she hissed under her breath, immediately spotting the feline emerging from some other tent.

She was carrying a bag, keeping it held aloft high into the air, well away from the reach of the two knights that were currently trying to snag it out of her claw but kept being tripped by her tail.

Monica’s grin could not have been larger. “Found chocolate!”

Dia swore.

---

• Barry Dodson: A former student of Rick, brother of Mark Dodson. He was brought to the wildlings by a pair of wandering maidens that had bonded him out of necessity. These maidens were part of the Coven, an outsider pro-maiden group based to the east of the kingdom.
• The Prisoner (Embla): A Malumari, daughter of the Warlock Dagmar. She was the unofficial strong-arm of the rebel group and its most powerful asset on the field. Her specialty lies in her physical capabilities combined with her power to disrupt an enemy’s elemental energy.
• Captain Deneva: Swordmistress and the right-hand maiden of Earl Vittchat. She is known for her strict discipline and open contempt towards cruelty. As a Swordmistress, she can learn techniques from a blade if the weapon was wielded by other maidens before her. Her second ability allows her to summon or dismiss weapons on demand.
• Earl Vittchat: Direct ruler of Balet, and overseer of the South. He played host to Rick, Monica, and Dia. Currently, he is the one overseeing the bulk of the Otherworlders, as they’re attempting to fully adapt to life in this world while staying in Balet.
• Royal Knight Captain: The highest rank a maiden can achieve within the kingdom, there are only four such maidens, each in service of an earl save the fourth who serves the king directly.
• Medicen: Medical-Center, a hospital.
• Murisium: A special metal alloy that only Metalmouse can create. It is overall a better metal than steel when it comes to combat utility, as it is lighter, tougher, and can conduct elemental energy better.

-

[097] [In the twilight (Kiara)]

In an uncomfortable, dark little hole, there was a man and a maiden. Kiara was pretending to sleep, eyes closed, and senses stretched outwards in every direction. Being this focused on the task, she could easily detect the flow of energy of any maiden hundreds of meters in any direction. The leech was slumbering a few burrows to the side, the only time of day when her power wasn’t just lashing out like a mass of coiled whips. A bit further away, their prisoner, the Malumari, was also resting, though not as deeply, just enough for her defenses to remain perfectly in place.

There were a dozen or so Orcs spread about, discreetly hidden, such that it would be impossible to figure out the burrow’s locations. And spread throughout the place were the holes, each containing a human or two, each of them accompanied by one of the assistant maidens.

Kiara could only smirk at how over half of those humans were currently engaging in intimacy. The fear of death proving a powerful enough aphrodisiac, Kiara had not even needed to nudge things along. It was a pleasant snack, one she sampled just enough to keep herself alert.

They were being watched.

There was no trace of this observer, no proof of their existence, not a scent or a sound nor a shred of evidence she could cling to other than a gut feeling that had followed her ever since they’d dug down in wait for news from the healer and the cat. Kiara had encountered such maidens before and knew that the only way to catch their presence was through the absences they left in their wake.

It came from the sudden disappearance of one of the Orcs.

One moment the maiden was there, alive, and when Kiara’s attention returned to her a moment after, she was gone.

There was a firm ‘thunk’ near the entrance of the burrow they were in. With a sigh, Kiara turned to her bunk-mate, reaching out to the human and caressing his cheek, weaving a deeper slumber spell to guarantee he would not accidentally wake. She followed this by putting a sack on his head, a measure to remove doubt, none save herself.

Pulling her senses back, she stood, dragging her hostage out of the hole.

There were three maidens waiting for her.

They were dressed in nothing but branches and leaves, faces and bodies painted in mud, moss, and sap, hair shaved off entirely. By all accounts, they looked like Elves, tall and slender, with pointed ears and sharp eyes. Yet to Kiara, they were nothing but a void, existences that were only verified through her eyes and nothing else. All three of them had the same stone-cold expression of soldiers on a mission.

These were the Golden Elves, the maidens that protected the Elven grove.

This was just the welcoming party.

“Take me to the Pinielf.”

There was nothing else that needed to be said. Kiara threw her human to the leftmost of the trio, and the maiden slung him over her shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Fly.” The second one commanded, her voice gruff as if she weren’t used to it. “Quiet.”

Kiara didn’t question it, reaching back on her dress and lifting enough of her shirt for her webbed wings to spread out. Silently she lifted from the ground, needing not the thrust of beating limbs like some bird, but at the cost of never really being able to match their speeds.

Her eyes kept wandering back to the human.

The thought of whether or not Rick might forgive her was a bitter one. Kiara kept trying to dismiss the idea. Once she had confirmation on how to ascend, she would have no further need for him.

Her eyes trailed to the ring of holding on her right hand, a twitch of her will brought out a golden, featureless coin, one enveloped by a transparent resin. Her fingers caressed the smooth, unblemished surface, Kiara’s jaw tightened, and she dismissed it back into the ring.

Just another memory, just another scar that would be healed once she ascended.

They moved through the forest quietly, uninterrupted. Now and again, Kiara would detect something in her periphery, maybe a feral, maybe some wild animal. Yet if they happened to get close, the thing would vanish.

There were other Golden Elves with them; that much was clear. But it was impossible to know how many. One? Four? A dozen? This welcoming party had been sent under the intention of procuring her, and Kiara doubted they would’ve taken no for an answer. With Monica crippled and not even present, she doubted there would’ve existed a proper fighting chance.

It reaffirmed her decision, a fight would’ve proven fruitless; too many lives would’ve been wasted.

Swiftly making way through the forest, Kiara was unbothered by the thickening roots and growing trees. Her escorts, meanwhile, navigated the terrain with ease, weaving through the irregular foothold with experience. And as they kept pushing deeper into the forest, as the trees began to grow and rise as if becoming mountains, Kiara began to feel some unease.

Titan-trees, that was the name these plants had received, and they were present all over the continent albeit hard to find. Their wood would’ve been considered if not because the Northern Empire had a tradition to use the stuff in every forge within their borders. As far as Kiara knew, the custom was as old as the Empire itself, with superstitions that the wood of titan-trees made the fire special in some way.

She’d never seen a difference between Empire-made metal and that of other places. The advantage was mostly held by how proficient they were at the craft, not from any special properties of the material itself. Nowhere else had she encountered these many titan-trees in one place. Had the area gone neglected because it was too far away from the clutches of the Northern Empire? So this was what a titan-tree forest would look like if left untouched for centuries.

Had she gone west rather than east that fateful day so many lifetimes ago…

“Land.”

The command was softly spoken, the trio of Golden Elves coming to a halt and looking up to her with gray steel eyes. Turning her focus back to them, she realized none of them were armed nor wearing enchanted collars, despite being clearly not under the feral curse. Or perhaps they were under the curse, but it just so happened that Golden Elves had some degree of immunity in the same way the Orcs did.

Whatever the case, she had no reason to antagonize them currently, so she descended to their level.

“Follow.”

One of them took the lead, the other two trailing behind.

Kiara’s gaze roamed the forest. “What’s your name?”

No response.

She had been expecting as much; there was a clear air of professional zealotry about them, the sort you’d encounter only on soldiers that had been groomed into the position since birth.

Kiara glanced at the human, still sound asleep and unresponsive; with a tweak of her power, she strengthened the spell to ensure it would not break anytime soon. The last thing she needed right now was things becoming more complicated.

Her guide took them through a seemingly random path of roots, each thicker than the last, climbing upwards. The further they progressed, the more Kiara could sense power in the air, becoming thicker, deeper, to a point she could nearly taste the leafy nature of the energy that was seeping into and out of every inch of every tree.

There was a dissonance within the music of the forest. Something was tampering with the wild energy. It was far off, but Kiara could make out a vague sense of… something trying to rein some of it in. But she couldn’t readily tell what was going on, only that it felt pretty large in scope.

Their little group came to a stop near the base of the trunk of one of the trees. Further ahead, there was a lone figure dressed in pure white robes, long sleeves, and bloodied plant-leather gloves, her head covered by a small hat that held a single sheet of cloth hiding her face.

Kiara shuddered as she felt the emotions seeping out of this maiden. It was a radiance of joy, contempt, and condescension all wrapped into one. The acrid and bittersweet tastes had all the highlights you’d find in any form of nobility, but it carried with it a twisting of energies that made Kiara’s stomach roil. Like poison, this maiden had done something to herself.

“You may refer to me as Sivent,” the figure greeted her with open arms and a minor bow of her head. “It is nice to speak to a fellow ageless after so long.”

Kiara kept her own smile polite. “I thought the little group of rebels had Elves amongst them.”

“They did, but they avoided me,” Sivent gestured for her to follow. “The plants that I have grafted onto myself were experimental, to someone attuned to the emotions of vegetation, they would be off-putting.”

“I take it that you went through this effort to call me here for a reason.” Kiara stepped closer, carefully prodding at the energy of the maiden. It had a martial harshness to it, bent and weaved into some shape that followed more plant-like patterns, and an undertone of… aberration?

The maiden didn’t answer, glancing at the human that’d also been brought. “Will you not wake him? As an inventor, I am curious about his perspective on the work that’s been done here.”

Kiara stepped in. “This is between you and me. I’ve also kept him asleep in case you might have some apprehension of letting him go if he happens to see something he shouldn’t.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Besides, his expertise lies outside elemental energy.”

Though she couldn’t see the maiden frown, she could sense the taste shifting towards harsher tones. “You wish to leave once the work is done.”

“No disrespect, but I don’t much enjoy staying in one place for too long.”

That appeased the maiden. “Yes, the Maker created Succubi in that way.”

A jolt ran through Kiara, her tail jutting out and going stiff, throat going dry. “You… were alive at the time?”

Smugness flowed out of the maiden like lemon molasses. “I am an original maiden. I was born out of metal and glass, not from the womb of another.” She raised her hand, drawing a simple circle in the air. “Did you not know that is where our names originate? A maiden was ‘made in a tube’. A crude joke, but one we’d grown to take with pride. Unlike creatures made of happenstance and randomness, we’d been designed and needed.”

A moment of fond remembrance coursed through Kiara as she heard this. There had been a time in her life where she would’ve taken these words in and been smitten by the historical weight they carried. How many questions she would’ve wanted to ask, not a singular ageless maiden had survived for this long, at least not that would openly proclaim it.

“So you know how a Succubus ascends.”

“Into a Dark Queen, yes.” The ooziness of smug only grew harsher in its sweetness. “Follow me, and let us speak.”

There was a momentary flutter inside her chest at those words. None, not one maiden or human, not a singular living being had ever confirmed this suspicion to her. Only half-formed rumors, old dusty books, and legends.

The relief that washed through her at the confirmation of her theories left her staggering for a moment. Hundreds of years, thousands of people and bonds, millions of steps, and countless hardships.

It was a shame the Pinielf would need to die at the end of this.

Kiara reigned herself in, complying with a nod and taking one last glance at the human as the trio of Golden Elves broke off to walk elsewhere. A twinge of nervousness grew within her gut, but she withheld from expressing any of it, instead focusing on her ‘host’. Sivent wasn’t as skilled in keeping her power protected as the Malumari prisoner had been, but it would not be a quick process.

Nothing else was said, the two making their way towards the base of the tree.

“Do you know about intelligent design?” Sivent broke the silence.

“Maidens were designed with a purpose in mind, and were built around that accordingly,” Kiara quickly answered. “It is a theory many have bounced around, and many more have weighed on. Ask a room with two philosophers over what the purpose of a Hound was, and you will get four conflicting opinions.”

“Many a mortal has gone through great lengths to try and erase our glorious past. With the fall of the Green Empire, it is no surprise they’ve succeeded,” Sivent sighed, clasping her hands behind her back as she approached a flat area near the base of the trunk. “During our time, this information was freely obtainable by any maiden, especially to those of us that were gifted with ageless wisdom. It is a right that was robbed from you by humans during her majesty’s slumber.”

Kiara didn’t comment; this maiden wanted to talk her heart out, and she wasn’t about to stop her. She only followed, making noises of agreement and half-formed affirmations to urge her onwards. Inwardly, her heart was beating faster, hoping, counting down the minutes, the seconds. How long until she was given the map she’d been looking for dozens of mortal lifespans?

“Once upon a time, the Maker could make anyone ascend, using methods none were able to reproduce.”

“Why didn’t the Maker share this knowledge?” She asked.

There was no answer, only a flare of anger, resentment, and malice. The cloth covering the maiden’s body wriggled and seethed as if there were thousands of vines underneath. According to Dia, that was exactly what the Pinielf had made her body into.

Kiara could only fathom how much was actually left of the maiden.

“It does not matter.” The Pinielf approached the wood, gesturing at it, and stepping away as the silhouette of a door formed. It opened to a tunnel leading into the tree. “What matters is the task that needs to be done. The reason you were brought here.”

The Succubus did not step into the tree, holding herself still. “I’ve come very far for this information you’re promising. I expect at least a part of it before we begin anything.”

She could feel the Pinielf’s eyes boring into her through the cloth. “Agreeable.” She declared after a few seconds, the writhing under the cloth coming to a complete stop. “I will tell you the purpose of your genus, the reason for the design of Succubi and Dark Queens. Would that suffice?”

It might.

Kiara wasn’t entirely sure, but being entirely certain of the reasoning behind the design of her genus would be of great help. If nothing else, it would provide a hint. “I agree with this.”

Sivent nodded in turn. “The purpose of your genus is to corrupt, to make your victims turn against everything they once held dear.” There was a smile woven into those words. “The reason why the Maker granted your breed agelessness was so that you would be able to accrue the necessary experience to carry this out on a grander scale upon becoming a Dark Queen.”

Kiara’s heart clenched.

Lips drawing thin, she lowered her gaze to the roots they stood on.

She thought back to those fateful words from the diary of Dark Queen Djamila.

It was in the scorching sands I found my King.

Too feeble to even cast his own shadow.

Yet he could silence the mountains with but a glare.

Such was his weakness.

Her mind churned, trying to figure out how this fit into everything. Had the requirement of a human immune to her powers been a challenge of some sort? Why would it matter within this context? How would it relate to the design the Maker had imposed onto them?

“Well?” Sivent didn’t let her continue her trail of thoughts, impatiently gesturing for her to follow into the tree.

Kiara needed to know the answers.

With one last look to the forest, she wondered if Rick was safe, then turned to follow her guide. Behind her, the door sealed, the tunnel collapsing and closing in with a quiet hissing rumble, sealing any possibility of escape.

There was a foul taste in the air, one that grew worse the further in they went. Kiara couldn’t place it, nor be sure if it was something emotional or physical. There was a tanginess to it, woven with sour and acrid undertones that reminded her of spoiled meat. As they continued, flanked by the impenetrable walls of the narrow corridor, she began catching a dissonance of emotions emerging from further ahead.

There was a singular room, illuminated by a lone magelight.

A young human woman sat on a chair, eyes wide but seeing nothing, shuddering as green tendrils pulsated under her skin, driving directly from a lump on her neck into her head. The whites of her eyes were yellowed, her hair fallen off in patches, her skin ashen.

“I’ve been trying to get her to prepare her to submit on command. But there’s something in her that’s been resisting the attempts.”

Sivent spoke as if the half-corpse of a girl wasn’t screaming out with such loud overwhelming agony that it clogged Kiara’s throat. She felt herself take a step back and waver, shutting down her senses as quickly and hard as she could lest it overwhelm her.

“Whatever it is, I’ve been trying to excise out of her by shutting bits of her brain at a time before patching her back up. But nothing’s getting through.”

Kiara stumbled, leaning into the wall, gripping it with clammy fingers.

“Once I heal her back, you will help her for the ceremony.”

“Ceremony?” Kiara asked weakly, fighting to recover her breath.

“Yes.” Sivent chuckled. “I’ve prepared something so that she may bond every Elf in the grove in quick order.”

The world was spinning. “That’s… that should be impossible.”

“The Green Empire existed before humans began losing their ability to form bonds.” The Pinielf stood tall, proud, oozing a vile determination that burned away all flavors, choking out all else. “We developed a great deal of methods to manage them. It wouldn’t do if a mortal held any sort of power over an ageless like ourselves.” She snickered, reaching out and caressing the human girl’s face. “The available resources aren’t ideal, but I’ve managed with what I had.”

Sensing the hesitation, the Succubus turned away from the victim, trying to block out the soundless screams. “You can’t be knowledgeable in all these things. You’ve been asleep for too long.”

“You’re right; much of what is being done is through half-remembered details and partially recovered texts,” she answered freely. “I was an experimental botanist, fourth division, symbiosis project.” Pride seeped into her voice. “Other experimental divisions created prototype plant-life for our superiors to affix and perpetuate. The titan-trees are one example of many; they were the backbone of our infrastructure.” She chuckled. “Ours sought ways to enhance the flesh with bark and sap. The feral problem was one that had only begun rearing its head late into the Empire’s existence. You fought what we’d created as an attempt to permanently solve it.” Turning to face Kiara, the white-clothed maiden produced a singular seed. “Shame that we never had the chance to put it to use.”

Both maidens stared at one another, the seed held aloft by a gloved hand.

Kiara could scarcely believe this had been the source of the nightmare they’d faced back in Sinco. There was nothing odd or out of place for the pyramid-shaped chunk of plant. It almost looked like a splinter taken out of a tree.

Yet the chill ran up her spine all the same.

“You must excuse my rudeness. I know you’ve implied agreement thus far, but one should always verify,” the Pinielf spoke softly. “But you do intend to aid me in this project of mine, correct?”

“I’ll help influence the human girl,” Kiara nodded, eyes flickering at the seed. She couldn’t tell if the Pinielf intended to use it on her if she refused; the maidens' emotions were all over the place; her sanity was likely in question as well.

“To the best of your ability?” She stepped closer.

“The best of my ability does not work on people whose minds have shattered,” she spat the words out, not daring to look at the human in question. “Or if they’re so far out they can’t even think or feel properly.”

The Pinielf perked up. “I’ve become quite adept at returning her to her original state. The subject will be ready by tomorrow.” With a twitch of her hand, the seed vanished from sight. “You may leave now; I will call for you once everything is ready.”

Kiara nearly took the offer at face value but stopped. “And my human?”

“I will be keeping him under my care, at least until your part of the deal is fulfilled. Collateral, you understand.”

A begrudging nod was all she could give. “I do.”

Happiness came out in waves; the maiden gestured for her to leave. “Once your task is done, I will also teach you the spell to break your bond. Consider it a bonus, something every ageless maiden ought to know.”

“And you will let me keep the human,” Kiara spoke firmly.

“If you still wish to keep him after ascending, certainly,” Sivent nodded without a care.

Another gesture marked the end of the conversation.

Kiara didn’t hesitate to take the opening tunnel out of there, to get as far away from the aberration as she could. Her insides were clenched tightly, stomach twisting into knots, and heart hammering hard against her ribs.

She needed to finish her task quickly, get the information, and finish off the Pinielf.

Before she figured out that the human Kiara had brought here was not Rick.

---

• Sivent: Formerly a High Elf and a researcher of the Green Empire, specialized in plant-flesh melding under the command of the Emerald Empress. She was awakened by Barry, and promptly succeeded in ascending into a Pinielf.
• The Prisoner (Embla): A Malumari, daughter of the Warlock Dagmar. She was the unofficial strong-arm of the rebel group, and its most powerful asset on the field. Her specialty lies in her physical capabilities combined with her power to disrupt an enemy’s elemental energy.
• Dagmar (Warlock): Embla’s mother. Last we saw of her, she’d been seeded and turned into Sivent’s newest subject, all will and capacity for cognition overtaken by the parasitic plant.
• May Brown: Human and current test subject of Sivent. May was one of Rick’s students and had come into this world alongside the others. While on her way to Balet, the convoy was attacked by Embla and the other wildlings, and May was kidnapped. At the time, Dagmar had insisted Barry not be informed of this, thus May was kept a secret in the palace’s dungeons.

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AN Special note: The more Barry&Co are brought on to the spotlight of Alchimia Rex, the more I realize that Book 1 (Monsters and Maidens) had some plot-holes and problems I hadn't really spotted until recently. Nothing big, just details that kind of grate.

Not entirely sure what to do about them just yet, I guess this is one of the drawbacks of serialized chapter-by-chapter publishing format rather than as big-ass-books-in-one-go. I'll try to address stuff as it surfaces, and will have to add some note somewhere about retroactive tweaks to Book 1...

If you guys spot anything in the story that might make the wheels squeak, make sure to give me a shout-out! I'd be very much interested and it would be appreciated! Every little bit helps!

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