Alchimia Rex (094 & 095)

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AN: Small plothole fix/update to the previous chapter so it fits with this one so that Rick senses things going down through the bond rather than only hearing the message once Eli (the Hound) gets back.

Basically it's just the last couple paragraphs for chapter 93

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[094] [Third Party (Eli)]

Eli's ears rotated atop her head as she sought out any signs of danger. The fur of her tail remained on edge; every step the Hound took was cautious. She'd foregone jumping through shadows entirely, just to ensure it would be harder to detect her presence at a distance.

This wasn't any deeper into the forest than Eli would go for a typical long hunt, but this part she was in was one she'd learned to avoid over a decade ago. It was common knowledge amongst the Hunters in Sinco that the bigger the trees, the more dangerous the area.

At its simplest, the branches overhead could become thick enough to sustain the weight of a maiden without shifting or making any sound. That alone allowed predators to favor verticality. All of a sudden, you had to be far warier of things that were above than you did anywhere else in the forest. As if this wasn't enough, however, the roots would be thicker, with hollow spaces underneath, ideal for lying in wait for an ambush.

In the parts of the forest where the trees could reach up to the sky, even the slightest rustle could be a sign of danger.

For this reason, the Hunters always avoided these places unless there was a need to peer deeper. Looking back, Eli could see the irony. Their avoidance of these places had made it possible for the wildlings to settle without risking detection. According to the prisoner, they'd done so through scaring off the local apex predators through rituals meant to cause mass hysteria.

BANG

Eli froze on the spot, ears standing straight and aimed directly towards the sound. Swallowing hard, she removed the bundle that held her clothes and anything that might be taken as a sign of her not being a feral.

BANG

Twitching slightly, she buried the bag under a root, rubbing the dirt against her hair and skin. She made sure to pick the stinkiest muck to rub onto herself; there couldn't be any chances. If the enemy realized an actual force was on its way, it could prove catastrophic.

BANG

Moving on all fours, keeping herself low to the ground, she moved through the foliage and roots. It was no longer an efficient straight route but rather a semi-erratic back and forth as she got closer. Eli sniffed and tasted various areas of interest, taking to the role of feraldom easily enough.

BANG

A soft breeze began to blow her way. The first scent she caught in the air was blood and shit. Death in all its glory, followed closely by herbs, leather, oils, and metal. But all of it mixed with a tangi violence and fear.

Eli shivered slightly, stopping for long enough to sniff at the pungent mix, unable to pinpoint any specific scents, but aware it was the smell of a massacre.

BANG

The wind carried a hint of power with it. A deep metallic power - sharp, cold, and overwhelming. It was a scent that warned of danger, that carried with it a promise of violence that gave Eli pause.

Should she head back? No, there wasn’t enough information yet.

BANG

Holding back the flinch, she moved forward cautiously, head practically glued to the mossy root, tail stiffly tucked between her legs. Every nerve in her body stood on edge, ready to bolt at the first sign of immediate danger.

BANG

The air shook from the sound, louder than thunder. Whatever was happening sent tremors across the ground, clambering up Eli’s limbs and sending uncontrollable shudders through her.

Eyes and ears darting every which way, she barely caught the glint of metal in time to glue her body to the ground. Every instinct screamed to meld herself into the shadows, but she remained still, holding her breath, praying.

Two armored maidens stepped out from the tree, just a dozen meters away, lazily marching towards some spot to the left. The pale-blue metal meant these maidens wore murisium armor; they could only be knights. Unfortunately, neither wore an insignia that might betray their affiliation; instead, their armor was littered with splotches of brown and green mud intertwined with blackened blood.

Neither reacted to her presence.

BANG

But both flinched at the sound.

“I hate this,” one grumbled, rubbing the metal helmet that obstructed her features.

The other one just let out an annoyed sound and didn’t say anything, continuing on their rounds. Eli slowly let out her breath once they were far enough she couldn’t hear the crunch of their boots.

BANG

She inched closer, close enough to hear more boots, metal against metal, groans and complaints, voices and words. A bit closer still, and she crested over one of the roots, giving herself a vantage point over what could only be a battlefield.

The ground and roots were splattered with signs of bloodshed, the corpses were being gathered by the knights, fires were being started. There were dozens of knights within her direct line of sight, no doubt only a fraction of the whole force.

But what caught the totality of her attention was the tree.

BANG

If the trees around Eli were massive enough to hold houses within, this singular tree was large enough to hold a village. Its bark glowed with faint traces of green light, a cliff of wood that crested upwards into the dark foliage of the surrounding trees.

Standing in front of this impenetrable wall was a figure impossible to miss, wreathed in blue and white energy, four swords floating aloft like moons, each imbuing the energy with traces of red and black. The maiden was armored from head to toe, hiding her every feature, but Eli recognized the sword she wielded.

A piece of gold shaped like a fin, its length equivalent to the maiden’s height, jewels wreathing the length of the blade with enchantments that made the air vibrate.

The maiden swung at the tree, unleashing the power contained within.

BANG

The bark trembled, splinters of wood flying off in every direction. Against all odds, the tree wasn’t split in two, but held firm. The green glow wavered for a flickering microsecond, returning a split second later.

The maiden, not moving a single step from where she stood, raised her blade over her head and began to gather power once more.

There was only one knight within this corner of the kingdom known to wield such a weapon: Royal Knight Captain Deneva, Earl Vitchatt’s right hand, ruler of the city of Balet. What were they doing here!?

Eli didn’t have the answers, nor could she risk sticking around any longer to find out. She slowly began to pull back and away. It was paramount to inform the Lord of this development. Whatever the situation was, it had just become far more dangerous. One they could not be allowed to approach blindly.

The banging had stopped.

Eyes widening, Eli didn’t think. Her body moved, surging through the shadows and bolting. Emerging from her shadow a dozen meters away, she ducked right as the bark above her head exploded in a rain of splinters.

No thoughts, lunge back into darkness, push harder through the black, keep going further. She could hear muffled shouts, barked orders. She emerged and rolled, ears popping as if she’d pulled her head out of a bucket of water. The attack hung overhead like a sun, blistering her skin, missing her yet leaving a trail of seared flesh in its wake.

Lunge back into the numbness of the shadows, push, push, push. No time to think, just move, just run, run, run, run. Emerge, duck, jump, go back inside. Direction didn’t matter, thought didn’t matter.

Emerge again, freeze for a split second right as something impacted in front of her, a cut that could have removed her head from her shoulders but had only clipped her right hand instead clean through. There was a momentary burst of pain, followed by a scream, but the agony vanished, clearing her mind, allowing her just enough thought to return to the shadows, run, push, ignore her wound, push, push. Run, but run where?

Eli changed directions, the next leap pushed her upwards, into the darkness of the foliage overhead, taking to the branches thick enough to be roads. Whether or not her assailant pursued didn’t matter, she went straight back into the safety of the shadows and moved to the next spot, and the next, and the next. Each leap pulled at her energy, her arm screaming in pain.

The wind shifted, she realized she’d been heading eastward. Deeper into the forest, deeper into danger. Predators awaited here, perhaps lessened by the feral rush, perhaps emboldened. No time.

She only stopped when she could not sense her impending death hanging overhead. Tucked into a hole, urgently looking in every direction, she waited for any sign of pursuit, but none came. Had they thought her feral? She hoped so, it would be the difference between a very active chase and a chance to slip away. She was bleeding all over the place, even if they thought her feral, a Hound was a good prize for any hunter.

Since they had stopped the active pursuit, that could only mean they saw her as a feral.

Another grimace followed; she’d need to leave her bundle buried. She could not take the risk to go get it back. Summoning her powers, she weaved the darkness into her wound, licking the stump and taking stock of her injuries.

In the brief one-sided altercation, she’d lost her hand, and there were several deep gouges in her back, shoulders, and thighs. The tendons to her right foot had been cut off, her left arm was completely limp, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

She’d been lucky.

Seeing how running was impossible, as was moving normally, she could only hope to get back to camp through using the shadows. It would be a long way back, doubly so, seeing how she needed to keep her tracks hard to follow. Eli hoped to find some enchanted berries, but wasn’t betting on it since they’d likely been picked clean by the feral rush.

It would be a full day before Monica found her and dragged her back to report to the Lord and Lady. Apparently the Lord had been made aware of her situation the instant she’d lost her limb.

/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/

"You didn't even see her attack you?" Urtha asked the question with a glint in her eyes.

Eli's lips drew thin, unamused by the Orc's eagerness. "I didn't have time to stick around and gauge how outclassed I was by the Earl's champion." Her arm was being held in place by Dia, the healer carefully pouring over the stump, gaze flickering towards the Lord every other second.

"Back when the Earl was our host, the captain fought Monica to a standstill, and from what I heard, she'd been holding back," the Lord spoke from his wooden seat, he was marginally pale, holding his right wrist with a white-knuckled grasp.

Was he taking her pain? Whatever the case, the others didn’t appear happy for his gesture, Eli did her best to shrink within her seat and keep her gaze lowered.

"Monica holding back too," the feline hastily proclaimed.

Rick's gaze turned to Monica with a coldness that made the clearing lower a degree. "I think you know exactly how disappointed I'll be with you if you needlessly start a fight with her. Again." Everyone present flinched at the harshness in his voice. "What's more concerning is that they're here at all." His eyes turned to their prisoner, the Malumari sitting quietly at the edge of the clearing, head lowered and tense. "You kept information from us."

She flinched, lowering her head further, glaring at the ground.

"The Earl's been poking and prodding into the forest, looking for us. This I said already."

The Lady stepped forward, a deep scowl playing across her otherwise perfect face. "You apparently missed out on how close they were to finding you out." Her golden eyes narrowed. "Tell us about the tree."

Embla paused, her voice coming out as a soft whisper. "It's the palace, they locked themselves inside."

"Palace," Rick said, blinking rapidly. "You mean to say that there's more than just trees hollowed out over there."

"It is a former Elven city, still alive if not at the glory it once held," Embla's voice was bitter. "The palace in particular had been partially fixed and awakened by… the Pinielf. She taught our Elves how to make it lock itself down. If this is indeed what's happening, then there is no hope to penetrate inside, not quickly at least."

"It's just wood," Urtha glowered, taking a swing at the nearest tree with her club, the weapon effectively taking a bite out of the tree-trunk. "How could it deflect attacks like the one you described?"

"Wood of a rock-tree hundreds of years old, with the power of a whole living being larger than any village," Embla gestured at the metal club. "It holds enough power to hold out for weeks."

Eli nodded along. She'd run protection for more than one lumber explorative team trying to bring down one of those behemoths. Just cutting down a single giant had taken over a month, only for the wood to start rotting within the following year. Overall, the whole endeavor had been a waste of time and people. Yet there would always be some crazy human claiming there would be some new method to preserve the wood's incredible sturdiness.

Anything to not go to the tribes to trade for enchanted iron-wood.

How times had changed.

“Should we bother to attack?” Rick’s question brought a momentary silence to the group. “I mean, they have the wildlings locked up and under siege. By the looks of it, it’s only a matter of time before the tree runs out of juice, and they just poke through.”

“And if the Pinielf isn’t there?” The Lady was quick to ask. “If we don’t at least participate, we won’t be able to discern if the threat is still roaming freely or not. And at the very least, they should be warned.”

Of course, the Lady suspected the Pinielf wasn’t there to begin with. She had shared in private that the arrows used to deliver the message could have only been imbued by energy from a Golden Elf. And the wildlings did not have such maidens amongst their numbers.

But pushing for their involvement in removing the wildlings played a second important role: their prisoner’s human was undoubtedly within that ‘palace’. Gaining Embla’s loyalty would be an incredible boon for the Lord and Lady. And if they acquired a new pureblooded human along the way, then even better.

“If Captain Deneva is here, then it’d be best we are careful of who she meets,” Eva spoke coldly from Rick’s side, holding every air of aristocratic dominance and poise. “Myself, Kiara, and Embla. None of us three should approach that place and risk being found.”

The Lady didn’t flinch, but Eli could only internally wince at the blow.

“I agree with that,” Rick quickly spoke. “Our group isn’t exactly the most trustworthy. I’d honestly consider not sending anyone at all if I weren’t sure they’d have means for truth detection with them.”

“Whatever the case, we don’t have much time.” Urtha stepped forward. “We cannot sit and talk all day. The longer we wait, the less likely it will be that we’ll have control over the situation. The humans need to be tucked safely somewhere.” She gave the Lord a meaningful look.

A look that was mirrored by the other maidens, particularly Dia and the Vampire.

“You promised.” Embla spoke up, breaking the silence and staring up at the Lady, eyes hard as the metal holding her wrists strained.

“And we’ll get Barry,” Rick said before Kiara could answer. He rose to his feet and placed a hand on the Lady’s shoulder, squeezing her closer. “It’s just that we might be able to go about it without needing bloodshed.”

The proclamation brought several maidens present to become quiet.

“You have a plan?” Dia asked, finally putting down Eli’s stump.

The Hound grimaced at the loss but marveled at how little it hurt. She’d need to grow used to this, but that was something to worry about if she lived for that long.

“Yes.” The Lord nodded. “Kiara, Eva, and Embla will stay back with the humans, alongside whoever Urtha designates for the job.” He pointed at the Orcs. “You’ll prepare a group for an assault in case it comes down to it, but I want that to be the final recourse. The main part of the idea will be carried out by Dia.”

The healer jolted.

“Me?”

Rick focused on her. “Yes, since I can’t go to the frontline, I’ll need you to be the first contact.” His tone steeled. “I need you to convince Captain Deneva to meet with me on peaceful grounds. You’ll be taking Monica and Sheel for protection.”

Eli felt the maiden beside her root into place, and heard her swallowing hard.

“M-me!?”

The Hound thought back to the absolute inability to so much as see the attack before it came, and suddenly did not envy the young maiden’s position of trust.

[095] [Deep breaths (Dia)]

Dia sat on a stump, her eyes might have been looking at the blackness of the forest, but her mind was very far away. Inwardly, she was going over the only important interaction she’d had with Captain Deneva, the singular time when they’d exchanged words while they’d lived under the Earl’s roof.

The image within her mind had her crushed down to her knees, bowing low as the pressure of the Swordmistress’ presence bore down on her like a mountain, driving the air out of her lungs, goosebumps running over her whole body. “I ask forgiveness for my sister’s behavior,” Dia had scraped and begged, apologizing for Monica’s crass behavior during the days since they’d become guests.

The fight between the two champions had occurred a handful of days afterward.

In the months since those events, Dia had looked back on that interaction, and wondered countless times whether Monica’s decision to fight the knight captain had resulted from having overheard the exchange.

Now she’d been ordered to seek Deneva out and engage her as an equal, both of them representing the interests of their human, looking for a convenient outcome for both sides.

Except she was fairly certain the only possible outcome from such an interaction would result in something terrible for Rick. She wasn’t sure what exactly; it could even result in him being persecuted by the Earl! He’d killed a noble in plain daylight! Had Dia really thought they’d be able to get away from any consequence indefinitely?

Her mind settled on a singular possible solution, an impossible answer to the dilemma she was facing.

Dia sought Kiara out.

The Succubus was currently overseeing the small defensive positions that were being dug out from underneath some of the trees. Three rooms in total, each one meant to be completely invisible to outside observers, hastily excavated under the intention of covering them. The humans would be left within, guarded by members of the tribe.

“I need help.”

The Succubus gave her a quick look over. “I’m surprised Rick didn’t get to you first. You reek of panic.”

Dia was not amused, but played along with the humor anyway. “I think he’s letting me stew a little just so he can ask me if I’d rather he go instead.”

Chuckling lightly, Kiara tapped her chin as she looked down at the healer. The fact that she’d been floating off the ground and had increased her height just a bit further had not gone unnoticed. Neither had Dia missed how the spade-tipped tail remained perfectly still in what could only be a sign of concentration or nervousness.

It seemed they were both trying to pretend nothing was amiss, and failing. Though the ageless maiden was clearly better at it, Dia wouldn’t have seen the sign if Rick hadn’t pointed out its existence in the first place.

“That does sound like him,” Kiara absently twirled her hair, avoiding eye contact and looking at the Orcs as they worked at a frantic speed. “Act like him.”

“What?”

“When you meet the Swordmistress. Close your eyes, breathe, and imagine what Rick would do in your situation.”

“Die.” The statement was flat, immediate, and entirely devoid of hesitation. “He’d walk right up to her, right where he’s at his most vulnerable, and then he’d say something that would tick her off. My head would be off my shoulders before I get the chance to finish.”

Kiara didn’t answer, seeming lost in thought. “I saw you take away meat from Monica the other day. Wouldn’t you say that would’ve been just as dangerous a situation?”

“Monica doesn’t want me dead.”

“And why would you think the knight would want you dead? You might be some harmless Rapha, but you’re bonded to a former guest of the Earl, telling truths of bringing an Orcish raid that seeks to rescue one of said human’s former students from the evil clutches of the wildlings.” Kiara made a dismissive gesture. “I might have seen little from this Swordmistress you’re so afraid of, but I did not find her to be very illogical or impulsive.”

Dia sighed, nodding a little, and just about ready to turn around and prepare but stopping. “Wait, how do you…?”

“I didn’t rush to approach at the first opportunity.” This time she turned away in full, signaling the proper end of the conversation. “At the time, I wasn’t certain he was the one I sought, so I bided my time, did my research.”

Of course, she had. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she turned to leave the ageless maiden to whatever ploy she was setting up. Hopefully, Eva could at least prove a hindrance, but she wouldn’t bet on it, seeing how the Vampire was focused on practicing her powers alongside the prisoner.

Moving one step closer towards departure and her horrid mission, Dia went to her bags and pulled out the blackened spiky armor they’d taken from the Vampires. Would wearing this be the right move? It could serve as further proof they’d fought the Vampires, and maybe if the captain caught some whiff of Eva’s powers, it might be more easily excused as lingering enchantments on the piece.

Putting on the whole thing was easy. The first few times she’d needed help, but she’d quickly learned how to handle all the straps and latches on her own.

Fully equipped, she sought Rick out.

She found him near the edge of the camp, with Urtha as his guard, and talking to Eli.

“...if you need anything at all…” he spoke, gaze flicking down to the stump where the Hound’s right hand used to be.

“This is nothing, my Lord,” she bowed, lowering her ears and tail in turn. “It is my duty.”

Dia kept from openly scoffing, watching the older maiden let herself remain the center of the Lord’s attention rather than excuse herself. Was this what had been keeping Rick occupied?

“Perhaps if I could request to stay here as one of the guardians?” Eli requested with careful demureness. “I do not believe I would be of much use in a direct confrontation.”

“I thought that was already the case?” Rick glanced at Urtha.

The Orc shrugged in response. As she did, she noticed Dia and gave her a quiet look of exasperation, rolling her eyes. Urtha wasn’t amused by the Hound’s attempts at such a brazen attempt to cozy up to Rick.

Time to snuff this little chat out.

“I am ready to depart.” Dia raised her voice. “How much longer will it take for preparations to be finished?”

“Not much longer,” Urtha quickly answered. “Then we stuff the husband into a nice safe hole and go see what this whole knight situation is about.”

Rick turned away from Eli, focusing on Dia and giving a slow nod. “We’ll be keeping someone ready to take me to the frontline if negotiations go well.”

“To be clear, my Lord.” Squaring her shoulders, Dia raised her chin. “Under what situation should we attack?”

The question made Rick flinch; he scratched the back of his head and awkwardly glanced between all three maidens. “Seeing how quickly penetrating the palace is outside our capabilities, any confrontation would need to be one with retreat in mind. Aubria and the Darktons we can piss off; they want my head already, but the Earl is someone we can’t turn into our enemy.”

"And if we can win?"

Urtha's question lingered.

"Even if we can win," Rick insisted, "the primary goal is to lower tension and open communications. If we can get Embla to that palace, then we might be able to get Barry out of there."

Dia nodded. "What if they insist on keeping Barry and the prisoner?"

Closing his eyes, Rick sighed and shook his head. "Play it by ear."

Sucking in air sharply, Dia shared a look with Urtha. "In what sense?"

"Do not make promises if you can avoid it, and keep in mind that if we get Barry and Embla back into Sinco without fighting them, then they will be forced to keep things civil," Rick's expression hardened. "If that's not possible, getting them both into a situation where they can run away would be preferable."

The claim made Eli's whole body twitch in a deliciously satisfying way. Urtha was nodding along, and Dia had mostly expected this. But it was satisfying to hear it said all the same.

"Anything else, my Lord?"

"Yes." He approached, close enough that Dia had to become very still to avoid piercing him with the many spikes that covered her form. Rick's fingers latched onto the underside of her helmet and unclipped the clasp that prevented it from being removed. His black eyes met her purple ones, his hand caressing her cheek. "Be safe."

The kiss was far too brief, but the bond soared with a flood of emotions. Dia staggered at the wave that he'd sent her way, a naked revelation of too many things too quickly. Affection, concern, trust, pride, and many other things she couldn't properly pin down.

Suddenly she wanted nothing but to remove her armor and hug him so tightly she'd crack his ribs. Instead of doing such a foolish thing, she stood proud, raising her chin as she hastily put the helmet back on so as to hide her flushed expression.

"Keep him safe." She commanded Eli with a tone that carried as much of a threatening undertone as she could put into her voice.

No more words were said; she couldn't speak without risking herself to waver. Dia hastily made her way towards the Orcs that would be accompanying them into this prospective battle and poured over their gear. The time flew by as she made sure to drill into each of their heads how to properly use the tools the Lord had provided. It was a lesson they claimed they knew already, but none dared to stop Dia.

Internally she was soaring on the gusts summoned by the emotions revealed to her through the bond. She poured over that tiny little gesture that carried so much with it, committing it to memory, and promising herself she'd get Rick to do it again the moment she got back.

Everything was in place before she'd even realized it.

The burrows had been dug out, the humans tucked away safely, the guards chosen, the gear prepared.

Monica sat quietly at the edge of the camp, her eyes boring into the hole Rick had been left in. The maiden's stare was intense, posture tense, and expression completely dissatisfied.

"Are you ready?" Dia asked, approaching her.

"Talked to Rick, Monica knows what to do, what not to do." The words were spat out, bitter, growled as her nose wrinkled. "Say Monica not fight. Run away even if win."

Dia's gaze lowered, focusing on Monica's trembling white paws. The feline had clenched the massive weapons into fists, perhaps to hide the way they shuddered on their own. Stepping closer to the Sabertooth, she took one of the paws into her hands, pouring her healing powers into her wrists and forearms, weaving her energy into a mild sedative.

Slowly, the trembling came to a stop.

"It's not because he thinks you're weak," she whispered. "He wants you to be safe."

Monica pulled her paw away brusquely. "He still not understand."

Without another word, the maiden pulled the darkness over herself. A blanket of black that rose over her skin, turning its shape into something amorphous right before it plunged into the shadows as if falling into a pool of slick oil. There was not a trace left in her wake, as if she'd never been there to begin with.

Dia bit her lip.

For a moment she stared back towards the trees where she knew Rick was. Monica was clearly in a delicate mood right now, and the healer feared that meeting with Captain Deneva could prove disastrous if the Sabertooth couldn't reign herself in.

Tightening her resolve, she shook her head.

No, this was something Rick had entrusted her with.

One way or the other, she would see this succeed.

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