Alchimia Rex (092 & 093)

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[092] [Stylish choice (Eva)]

“You’re doing it wrong. Again.”

Eva kept from growling, but the scowl at Kiara was as open as she could make it. Meanwhile, the ageless maiden looked just as annoyed at this whole endeavor, reaching out to wave away at something as if trying to shoo off a fly.

“You’re pushing your energy around like you’re trying to carve the air with it. Stop that.”

“It’s the better method for spells and rituals,” Eva hissed.

“If your energy were compatible with that of metal,” Kiara retorted.

“Blood is compatible with metal.”

“Only in the mildest of senses, and only to a mistress of the craft. Not a month-old leech!” Kiara’s brows kept lowering the further the argument went, until she finally let out a growl. “Observe.”

Presenting an open palm, she summoned a series of glowing purple dots, each barely a mote of light. Their numbers swelled until it was a miniature hive contained within the palm of her hand, each speck dancing with its own erratic movements.

“This is what I mean with ‘flow’.”

Upon her command, the light began to move with purpose, turning into a swirling whirlpool. The movements became smooth, spiraling down on the outer shell before being sucked into the inner vortex, spiraling up, and being spat out to repeat the cycle.

“Do your best to imitate this.”

Next to Kiara, Embla’s eyes opened ever so slightly in surprise.

Eva could understand why the Malumari was so surprised. The display of lights had emerged out of the simplest of illumination spells, yet the complexity of its movements revealed a level of fine control the likes of which Eva had only ever read. From a Succubus no less, a breed that had no specialization in illusions. It left the Vampire with begrudging respect for the ageless maiden.

“Stop gawking and focus,” Kiara dismissed the lights as she closed her hand. “Until you find a way to control your powers, you’ll remain a hazard to Rick and this expedition.”

It was hard to respect someone when they were being this annoying. Eva knew Kiara was right, but loathed the condescending tone all the same.

“She’s right.” Embla shifted where she sat, shackles clinking as she glanced at them both. “If I were in charge of this expedition, I would’ve left you behind. As it stands, any champion with decent senses would be able to detect you from half a day’s run.”

Kiara gave the prisoner a glance, an odd look crossing her features before they were replaced by a sly smile. “Help her learn.”

“Why?”

“You wouldn’t want the Pinielf knowing we’re on our way, now would you?” She cocked a smirk, making a gesture at the Malumari. “Besides, you are clearly familiar with the process of training through disruption.”

Embla stiffened. “How do you know that?”

“You handle your energy like you’re afraid someone will knock it from your grip,” Kiara shrugged. “You only see that paranoia from someone trained by a disruptor.”

“Contrary to how you handle it? Reaching out to touch everything?” Embla scoffed back.

“I’m a touchy kind of gal.” She cackled, shaking her head and glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the camp proper. For a moment, she kept quiet, her gaze hardening as she focused on something only she could see. “I will test you come morning.”

Eva frowned. “You’re not my mentor.”

“You are right, I am not your mentor.” The Succubus turned to her, golden eyes shining in the dimness of the forest. There was a cruel edge to her smile. Slowly, she shifted her form, membranous black wings spreading behind her, horns emerging from her blue hair. “But if you ever feel like you’re losing yourself to your empathic powers, my door will remain open.”

“Vampires don’t have empathic… and she’s gone.” Eva glowered, watching Kiara take to the air and rise past the trees above. “I hope a feral Angel takes a shot at her,” she added under her breath, rubbing her temples and sighing loudly.

“They’re all dead.”

Embla’s distant voice reminded her the prisoner was still there. The Malumari hadn’t moved from the spot, watching up into the treeline where Kiara had disappeared to. The maiden’s charcoal skin almost blended with the umbra of the forest, while her chalk-white hair made her nearly glow.

“Dead?”

“To cause the rush, infecting the feral Angels and Neigix was the quickest way to have it spread.” The shackles clinked, her fists tightening. “The plant eventually kills the host, at least that was what she told us of how it worked.”

“Let’s just get this done.” Eva shook her head at the thought of the Seraph. It wasn’t something she wanted to be reminded of, that feeling of overwhelming uselessness…

She kept her gaze on the cloudy sky above. “Cast a spell.”

The dejected aloofness of the maiden’s demeanor prickled Eva, her jaw set firmly in place as she summoned forth her power to prepare the illumination spell. The energy was invisible to her eyes, but she could feel it as she stretched it upwards through the tips of her fingers. The volumetric web-like pattern was drawn, and she began to pulse her power into it, injecting a bit of power into the various nodes where the web patterns connected and reached out.

Except nothing happened.

Trying to sustain the spell at a criticality point for a prolonged period of time proved impossible. Her energy unraveled, the structure collapsed, there was such little energy within the spell it didn’t even surge out, merely dissipating into the night air.

“You did something.” Eva threw the accusation at Embla.

The maiden just shrugged.

The annoying part wasn’t that her spell had been tampered with, but that she hadn’t been able to detect the interference. It wasn’t as if anything was out of place; the nodes and structure were intact. In a way, it reminded her of how Kiara could seemingly slip past someone’s defenses without the target realizing it.

It would’ve made sense that Embla could disrupt her in this way if she weren’t focused, but…

The second attempt failed, despite her moving her energy more carefully this time.

The third failed as well, also without noticing any disruptions.

She changed her strategy, weaving her power once more, but this time intentionally doing so wrongly in a way that kept the structure, but with the energy concentrations distributed erratically. Yet as she did, the spell abruptly reached criticality, lighting up and compressing itself until a small orb of white light emerged from the area it once occupied.

“You weren’t disrupting me,” Eva declared. “You were nudging my energy to flow into the wrong places.”

Embla stiffened, eyes widening. “You’re familiar with the deeper foundational theory of spellcasting.”

“Of course,” she nodded, puffing up.

“Yet you have no practice on it. You were human. A well-educated human on a subject with no direct use.” Her lips thinned, leaning forward with a glare. “You’re a noble.”

The Malumari had not moved from where she sat, yet Eva felt like she ought to put distance between them. Her eyes flickered down to the metal shackles that contained the prisoner, and at the four Orc guards that had abruptly tensed. But she was distinctly aware it would be a losing proposition.

If violence broke out, her only hope would be to run.

Eva pushed through the anxiousness. “Maidens are not nobility,” she declared as firmly as she could.

“The kingdom would put your head on a pike.” The statement lacked any sympathy, yet it held an edge of curiosity to it.

It was a proper question, but one she’d made a choice on already. “If they try, then they will learn the same lesson you have.”

“And what lesson is that?”

Eva stood tall, raising her chin. “Going against the Lord of Sinco is as foolish as attacking a Dragoness in her den.”

Letting out a bark of laughter, Embla shook her head. “I would compare him to a Tunnelweaver, not a Dragoness.”

“A maiden whose silk and poisons render intruders defenseless against their traps… I guess it might fit,” she muttered. “How do you know of them? They are exceedingly rare, not of these lands. They’re more prevalent further east, well past the blue mountains.”

“My mother would wrap a sash of Tunnelweaver silk around my neck whenever I was to train. I know not how she got her hands on it.” She let out a wistful sigh, turning to look back at the sky. “Would you betray your kingdom if the Lord of Sinco asked it of you?”

Now it was Eva’s turn to gaze up into the cloudy sky. It was no simple question, yet it too was something she’d spent ample time pondering. “It is easier to see it as the kingdom having betrayed me. After all, to them, my former self is dead.”

“But you don’t see it that way.”

She nodded. “Though its people rightfully fear my presence, being at Rick’s side since the moment the curse fell on me has kept the kingdom’s sting from reaching me. Still, even if they chose to make an exception for me in their laws, I would not waver.”

“Why?”

The question held more emotion to it than Eva had seen in her expression throughout the whole day. To which she just shrugged. “Rick chose me, and I have chosen him in turn.”

“It’s not a goal, or an idea. He’s a human, he’s fallible, he might one day change.” Her voice strained, fists tightening. “You’re his property, to be tossed once you stop being convenient.”

Eva laughed at the claim, as if she had been anything but baggage and a risk. “I would not find it wrong for him to do it,” she said. Even now, there was too much for her to catch up on before she could claim to be pulling her weight properly. “And were I to find fault in that, I would have done something about it.”

“But you’re not free!” She jolted to her feet, glaring down at the Vampire, power lashing outwards in every direction.

Eva did not move, the Malumari’s fight with Urtha flashed across her mind, and how little hope there was to be had in a confrontation. Her shoulders shook as she immediately lowered her gaze to the ground, hands impotently clenching at either side. “And were you? Free, I mean.” She muttered, throwing the jab back with a wavering voice. “Free to leave the cause you were raised to fight for, free to go elsewhere and seek a peaceful life.”

The statement knocked the wind out of Embla’s anger. “Yes, of course I…” She hesitated. “I chose to fight for our existence.”

“And you put your cause in the hands of a monster.” With a shaky breath, Eva raised her eyes to meet the other maiden’s own. “And you lost anyway.”

Embla turned away in shame and impotence.

“I did.” Sitting back down, the maiden’s head hung heavy from her shoulders. “I did.” She repeated, biting her lip, eyes staring at nothing, unfocused as they bore into the ground underneath her.

For a minute she stayed this way, ignoring the slightly nervous Orcs as they watched the two maidens warily.

“We should get this over with,” Embla said. “She’s wrong, you know, Kiara.”

“About what?”

“Your control.” She shook her head slightly. “Blood energy is made primordially out of a core of shadow and magic. Vampires often lean into the darkness aspect, which lends itself towards the flowing form of energy control. This is what makes it easier for them to hide their presence, such as when casting a ritual in the midst of a battle.”

Eva was reminded of the Vampire who’d cast the massive ritual during the assault on the tribe. The sensation of the spell had been so overwhelming that even she had felt it. Did this mean the Vampire had been using an alternate form of control, or was it just that the ritual had that much power in it?

“How do you…? How do you know this?”

Embla shook her head. “My mother was alive during the purges.”

Eva’s brow creased. “The purges were nearly a hundred years ago, and Warlocks are many things, but ageless is not one of them.”

“She dabbled in many things.” Embla sighed. “And she held many secrets.”

“And one of them is about different forms of energy control Vampires had.” Eva’s voice was thick with skepticism, staring flatly at the maiden. “Seems more likely she was in contact with the Vampire councils and learned a thing or two through this.”

“Perhaps,” the reply came with a hastily dismissive tone. “What matters is that the Succubus didn’t inform you of an option she should’ve been aware of. Most likely it was because she thought you shouldn’t know of the possibility to begin with.”

“No, what matters is that I need to learn how to control my energy.” It was true that Kiara’s ability to be right was annoying, and that her lack of a comment regarding the alternative was suspect. But there would be plenty of time to deal with her ploys, and Eva could not trust the prisoner’s intentions. “Tell me what the other form is.”

Embla leaned forward, using her digit to draw on the dirt. “The other common form is through coalescence and release. If the first method is to trap the energy in a torrent, then the second is to contain it within a shell.”

“Just contain it?” Eva asked. “Magic energy’s flexibility should allow for more than just that.”

“It does, but that would depend on what you do within the shell you form. It is akin to creating a small ritual, one you shrink down until it is invariably unleashed.” Embla presented her palms to show a light the size of her fist, one that changed color from white to blue as it slowly shrunk in size.

The image presented to her sparked a thought, one that became a cascade.

Clenching firmly on the idea, Eva shot to her feet.

She reached for the palm of her hand, using her sharp nail to skewer through the skin. The pain was barely felt, only the drumming of her heart pushing the concept in her mind further. She pulled at her blood as if holding it with an invisible hand, the red liquid thick with her energy.

Eva’s mind turned back to that perfect night, to that moment where she and Rick lay tangled in each other’s limbs, unable and unwilling to move, exhausted but not asleep. He’d been mumbling, muttering, speaking in soft soothing words explaining a scene that now bubbled to the front of her thoughts vividly.

A cloud of dust suspended in blackness, so massive it began to attract itself, ever more slowly shrinking as it began to accelerate inwards. She rushed to form the structure for the illumination spell, keeping the blood flowing. This time they were not pillars of a building, or pipes through which water flowed, instead, the lines and patterns of the spell were a moment frozen in time. A singular point of pure coincidence between the dust cloud and its inevitable collapse into itself, one where the pattern the particles held was that of the matrix.

And as soon as she’d weaved the shape into existence, it became a fight to sustain its shape, her blood pulsating as it greedily tried to destroy her creation. Eva held fast, just barely long enough for her power to surge through the structure.

Criticality followed, the matrix surging as it collapsed into itself once more, this time directly into the dimly glowing globule of blood.

The glow became a brilliant scarlet light, blinding in its intensity as it bathed the forest with a ruby flash of intensity that lasted all of two seconds. Eva’s breath hitched in her throat, looking at the spot where the light had once been and now was nothing but darkness.

Slowly her gaze turned back up, to the clouds. But in her mind she was looking past them, at the stars that twinkled above.

A half smile formed on her lips.

“I can work with this.”

--

[093] [Short Rest]

Rick woke to a body that complained in every capacity it had available to voice its opinion. Just about everything ached, groaned, and hurt. Most of it had been from the taxing nature of the trip itself, but some more had been added due to the night’s activities.

Urtha was still breaking beakers, which meant things had to be taken slowly.

Sitting up and looking around, he found himself devoid of company. The tiny space would’ve been impossible to house everyone anyway, but the lack of anyone nearby implied several things at the same time, none of which he particularly found enjoyable.

Hastily dressing himself, he stepped out to a quiet camp.

An empty camp, the fires smoldering with the final vestiges of hot coals, the guard posts devoid of Orcs, the sky a pitch black overhead. Yet he could still see. The world around him was a mix of looming shadows and a soft bluish glow that permeated outwards from himself.

A chill ran up Rick’s spine, the first impulse to call out squashed firmly. The forest rustled under a soft breeze that, for a moment, added a greenish hue to the light. He sought inwards, towards the bonds. There was just barely enough of a presence for it to be clear no one was dead, yet so distant he couldn’t make out anything other than a vague sense of direction.

Was this a dream?

Everything felt so sharp yet surreal. His mind could summon emotions and thoughts, yet there was a sense of detachment to them, like they were not his own.

His attention wandered to the ground, spotting footprints, catching the scent of sweat and ash. He recognized them, the Orcs and the Hobgoblins. But there was more to it, the smell had layers to it. Stress, excitement, fear, strength, and weakness. It all jumbled, mixing with other different scents, of flowers, ammonia, and blood. Rick felt like he could pick them apart, break them down into the exact individuals each scent belonged to, but his mind was focused more on the direction they’d all taken.

The same direction the bonds called from.

Rick placed his hand at the hilt of his short-sword. He felt a momentary confidence at the familiar touch, which confused him. Normally the first thought that would cross his mind was the futility of the gesture. A human with a sword was, at best, going to buy themselves some time and little else. Yet this time there was a warmth at the sword’s presence, a savage promise of brutality.

Once more he turned to the tracks left behind by the… was it truly Orcs? He wondered, recognizing only one set of footprints as that of an Orc, but the others were smaller, closer to what he’d expect out of a human. And… the more he looked at them, the more individual footprints he spotted, until the entire forest was littered with hundreds of tracks, scurrying, mingling, mixing, yet all moving forward in the same direction.

Looking over his shoulder back at the campsite, he found nothing but trees, the footprints stretching out backwards into the darkness. Had he been following the tracks without realizing it?

Rick shook the thought off and began to walk once more.

The trees were sparse, with plenty of bushes and dirt along the way. The branches loomed low; sometimes he’d need to duck under one to avoid getting bumped. Yet, despite the obstacles, Rick moved with a sense of ease in every step, as if he were walking on clouds.

The deeper he went into the forest, however, the more hazardous the terrain became.

The roots evolved from simple tripping hazards into low obstacles he’d need to vault over, until they resembled roads within a labyrinth of wood and moss. The trees themselves grew in turn, starting off as simple things barely wider than his own torso, but soon becoming towering structures. These giants were so tall that their trunks vanished into the blackness overhead, each monstrosity wide enough to house a stadium.

Every tree had transformed into a wall of wood, infinitely tall, that circled onto itself, supported by roots that resembled highways. If not for the sense of direction the bonds provided, Rick could’ve easily circled any one such titan without realizing he’d been going in a singular, gigantic circle.

Eventually, the root-riddled distance between each tree became so vast that moving away from one of the trunks would leave Rick surrounded by darkness, with only the roots under his feet for guidance as he navigated to the next point.

It was then that he noticed the forest's silence.

There were no rustling leaves, snapping branches, or even some mild random noise. The absence of sound was so profound that he could hear the rush of his blood in his ears if he held his breath for just a moment.

The crunch of moss and bark under his next step echoed like thunder, shattering the silence. A chill ran up Rick’s spine, as he felt the darkness grow more oppressive.

As he began to move again, he noticed that the number of footprints was rapidly diminishing. There were no signs indicating where they would end, no stains or hints explaining why a set of footprints would vanish. Yet with every step, he found the moss, bark, and dirt more untouched, devoid of any signs of passage.

Except for one.

A singular set of naked feet marked the way forward, clawed and padded. They were inhuman in their structure but had just enough human-like features to suggest they were the tracks of a maiden.

The thick roots receded, moving away from Rick's path, forcing him to climb down until he reached soft soil again. Before him lay a clearing, illuminated by a singular beam of silver moonlight that pierced the infinite forest canopy.

There, in the clearing's center, was a familiar school bus.

The machine lay belly up, its yellow paint cracked and corroded. Rust had consumed much of its structure, and shattered glass glittered all around, as if someone had sprinkled it over the vehicle’s carcass. The wheels appeared rotten, sloughing off the rims as if half-melted, and the chassis was so damaged that the vehicle's nose touched the soil.

Despite its dilapidated state, Rick recognized it instantly.

This was the bus he and the others had been on when they were pulled into this world.

The tracks led straight to the bus, to the black figure that stood atop it. The creature was closer to a silhouette than something actually made of flesh and blood, a person-shaped hole that had been made out of reality, leaving behind only the most absolute blackness. From within that void, two sapphire blue eyes gazed at him.

“Monica?”

He spoke the word, breaking his silence. The forest around him shuddered, leaves and pines raining down like snow. Yet, as he’d spoken the word, he realized this was not her. Whatever the creature was, it regarded him with a piercing predatory gaze, looming over the bus like a tombstone, or perhaps like a beast that had laid claim to its prize.

“Weak.”

It spoke with a voice that made the shadows waver and tremble in fear, pulling away from the creature, revealing just a bit more of the wooden skyscrapers that surrounded the clearing.

“Leave.”

The darkness obeyed, and Rick’s footing was abruptly lost, feet sinking into shadows that had not been there a moment prior. He struggled, fighting to escape the tar-like substance, kicking off and trying to move towards firmer ground.

“Stop!” He called out, and for a moment it felt like the darkness became just slightly more solid.

But as quickly as he found a semblance of footing, he lost it, and the shadows claimed him, pulling him under, the last thing he saw being the two blue glimmering eyes full of contempt and anger.

Rick woke up with a start.

Naked, drenched in sweat, and breathing stale air, his face pressed against soft suffocation. He tried to move, but found himself firmly pinned in place by iron beams covered in fuzzy, soft, hot fur. But the panic was short-lived once his brain had made sense of what he was feeling. Monica’s embrace against her naked chest was tight, a near instinctive reaction to keep him from escaping her grasp.

It took several struggling breaths before he could calm his heart down, and several more for him to put his thoughts in order. The feline’s breathing was calm, but there was a tension to her arms that spoke less of attempting to comfort him, and more about trying to find comfort herself.

The bond was muted, her sleeping emotions harder to parse through, but there was a hint of anxiousness within her that needled both of them.

Wordlessly, Rick reached out and hugged her back, pushing through the bond the notion of comfort, peace, and safety. Monica’s hug loosened right away, her body sagged, and with a soft sigh, her hug became limp.

With escape being his priority, Rick waited for a minute before he began to wriggle his way up so that his face wasn’t obstructed by her chest. Fresh air greeted him, and with it, some proper clarity to his thoughts.

The dream felt half-remembered, the finer details already slipping his grasp, but the impressions were vivid enough they stuck around. Had this been his dream or hers? Rick wasn’t entirely sure if the bond allowed for dreams to be shared, so perhaps it’d just been his sleeping mind interpreting whatever emotions were making their way out of Monica. The questions rattled within him, but he couldn’t readily find any answers.

It wasn’t as if he could ask the others either; even Kiara had been surprised at a lot of the things the bond had been proven capable of.

But that was a consideration for some other time. Right now, the only thing he was sure of was that Monica felt nervous. Their path ahead might take them into places she didn’t want him to go, and what could he do? He could only try to reassure her, calm her down, and help her keep a composed mindset.

Freeing his arms from her fuzzy trap, he reached up towards her head. It never ceased to amaze him how the proportions of her body were so much larger than his own. It made reaching for her head a bit harder than it otherwise would have been, but it didn’t stop him from deploying the tried-and-true method to properly improve her mood.

Massaging her scalp.

He dug his digits into the wild, unkempt mess of snowy hair, sinking his nails in and scratching away. Monica loosened further, completely letting go of him, and allowing him a proper escape route for a more comfortable position.

Without stopping his massage, he maneuvered himself completely out of her embrace, until he was sitting cross-legged, Monica’s head on his lap. She shifted just enough to hug his waist closer, rumbling softly while he mulled things over.

The days ahead had so much uncertainty hanging over each and every decision; it was like a sword of Damocles, waiting for a mistake. There was so much hanging in the air that depended on his decisions yet was entirely outside his direct capacity to address.

There was some irony in this. Rick was willing to kill strangers, yet the thought of sending some Orc warriors off to their potential death felt like he’d swallowed a rock. Every time he addressed the feeling, there was an inevitable line of thought that he couldn’t escape. One that whispered of how, had he been bolder, had he been more decisive, more willing to use the people he had available, then he might have been able to ensure the Pinielf had died that night.

Had he not buckled under the pressure of the broken bonds, then maybe they’d have one less threat to worry over.

“Mrrrrr.” Monica complained, her claw reaching out to pull his hand back to her head and making a rubbing motion.

Chuckling, he returned to the gentle scratching and massaging.

In a way, it was reassuring to see her here like this. These past few weeks had seen Monica acting in ways he’d not been able to address or grasp entirely. Their time together had been short, and some part of him suspected that it was part of the reason for her distress.

He’d so easily taken to city life again, and perhaps this was not something that had been sitting well with her. The foul mood reminded him of the time he’d spent living as the Earl’s guest, with the Sabertooth’s ever-growing boredom and frustration. Yet it was not the same; this time he did not have an easy solution.

More time together felt like the easiest solution on paper, yet it wasn’t as easy, not when the nature of his work turned him into a metaphorical skunk to her senses. His gaze lingered on the scars running through the fur on her wrists, on the way her claws twitched without any control on her part.

As much as he wished for Monica to directly tell him what she needed, there was an unfortunate truth that she lacked experience in matters of relationships. Her intuition was sharp, but there was a gulf between her and everyone else, born out of a life lived as a wild beast and only half-remembered.

Maybe her pulling him into her den had been, in part, her own attempt to seek comfort for something greater than the troubles brought up by the resurfacing of her painful memories.

Rick’s thoughts jumbled as he kept trying to figure out what to do, how he could help.

It all circled back to her words about strength.

Maybe that was the reason for the strange dream.

He could only hope that what he was doing now, being here on this expedition, would help him understand. That maybe he’d catch a glimpse of what she’d meant, or maybe… he wasn’t sure. He could only hope he’d recognize the solution if he ever stumbled onto it.

Idly allowing the minutes to pass by, Rick could sense the shift in the guard rotation outside through the shuffling of heavy feet. It wouldn’t be long before a gentle ruffling of the tent’s entrance betrayed the presence of someone else.

“You’re awake,” Dia spoke softly, shuffling inside through the darkness.

“Hard to sleep in,” he whispered back.

Without another word, she made her way around until she’d placed herself behind him. Her hands reached out and pressed against his back; the warmth and refreshing touch of her healing washed over him like a spring breeze. The aches and pains that had been assaulting him vanished within the span of a few minutes.

“Don’t count on this becoming a habit,” she said, giving his cheek a peck. Dia had explained it to him some time ago: healing aching muscles too soon would prevent them from growing stronger.

“I love you too,” was his response, giving her a peck in return.

“Mrr?” Monica complained, flicking her ear at him.

“And you.” He scratched a little deeper, turning his attention to Dia. “You holding out ok?”

With a nod, she leaned into his shoulder, resting her head in place. “I’ll take some sleep during the next part of the journey. You should as well, if you can. According to Embla, we should be finding the first signs of their scout patrols before the day ends.” She made a face. “I don’t like it.”

“What?”

“How quickly Embla agreed to help us,” Dia whispered. “She barely spoke to anyone before, but now… Kiara got to her, and not knowing how concerns me.”

“Kiara knows more about these sorts of things than any of us,” he said.

“But…?” The question lingered; Dia’s voice hitched. “No, never mind, if you trust her, then I’ll work around that. We can’t risk dissent, not this close to the battle.”

Rick nodded, steeling his resolve.

According to Kiara, one of the points Embla had stressed was that their rebel group had been trying to phase out their need for collars, using Barry as the focal point. In this way, they were able to no longer need human prisoners, just one. And it was this exact strategy the reason why their raid would operate like a spear, to push in hard and fast and get a hold of him.

Their biggest theoretical threat was the Warlock, Embla’s mother.

At best, the way to deal with her was using Embla herself to break spells. But none of them could really trust their prisoner, instead opting to keep her in the dark about the details of their operation other than a promise that they would retrieve Barry alive. Because of this, the plan was to have Monica and Eli seek out the Warlock discreetly, to end right as the raid started and avoid a ritual from being used.

Once Barry was under their control, a simple threat to his life would make any attempt at resistance crumble. If they found the Pinielf among them, then Kiara would step in to extract everything she needed before finishing her off. The last part of the plan was the one Rick had the most reservations about, but he had kept them to himself. There was something about Kiara stepping into a metaphorical or literal position of “technically not quite but actually a torturer” that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s time.”

Dia ushered the warning following a cue only she could detect, summoning a small magelight to illuminate the tent’s interior as she made her way to the flap.

Rick nodded, ignoring Monica’s sounds of complaint as he began to shuffle his way around to get dressed. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he promised, watching her nod and step outside. He glanced back at Monica. “Are you feeling alright?”

She glanced at him with those piercing blue eyes, huffing. “Danger is far,” was her response, her tone holding a warning edge to it. The maiden reached out to wrap her hand behind his shoulder, pulling him closer. She pressed her forehead against his chest. “Rick, stay safe.”

“You too.”

There was nothing more to be said.

She walked outside as naked as the day she was born, and he finished putting on his clothes and travel gear before exiting to a camp that was already halfway wrapped up and ready to go.

“I’m surprised you can walk, Father, especially after last night,” Urtha laughed as she approached, entirely suited up and with the ‘chair’ already securely strapped to her shoulders. Her comment brought some chuckles from the rest of the tribe.

Rick cocked his head. “And why would that be, Urtha?” He asked with the most innocent of tones. “I wasn’t the one that started snoring after just two rounds.”

Urtha’s face took a slightly deeper green as the other Orcs barked out with uproarious cackling.

“Beware a man’s tongue, for it can cut deep no matter how thick your skin.” Sheel slapped Urtha’s shoulder.

The three-meter-tall green giant scratched her cheek awkwardly. “I, uh…” Shaking her head, she turned away, exposing the back where his seat awaited. “Just… let’s go? Father?”

Nodding along, he stepped up. “For the record, I did need some healing to get the aches out,” he whispered just loudly enough to get some wolfish whistles from the others, and a decidedly increased boldness to Urtha’s mood.

They set off.

That night they would not encounter any signs of the wildlings, nor the day after.

On the fourth day since leaving Sinco, Rick's right hand exploded in pain. With a scream his mind rushed through, sensing a spike of fear, anxiety, and desperation. Eli, the Hound, Kiara's right-hand-maiden. He latched onto the feeling, realizing she was being attacked and in agony. He pulled on the pain and waved at everyone else as they rushed to his side.

"Eli's under attack, she found something, or someone." It was all he could manage to squeeze out through gritted teeth. "Monica!"

He needn't say another word, she was already gone. Rick groaned as Dia moved in to use her powers, soothing his body even though the pain he was pulling out of the Hound could not be mitigated.

It appeared Eli had found something.

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