Alchimia Rex (068 & 069)

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[068] [Reflections (Eva)]

"May Fortune's favor find you, Miss Evangeline. How does the day meet you? Is it treating you kindly?"

Eva’s polite smile took a note of tension. Her interactions with Yasir had been brief. The man came from the Golden Sands, a place half-way across the world and ruled by maidens. Were the merchant openly greedy, Eva would’ve known exactly what to do. Her life as Evans had seen no shortage of people looking for gold or power. But even though Yasir was a merchant, there was nothing but an open door to any who knocked, especially if they were related to Rick. It left her feeling uncertain, not because she believed he was being dishonest but precisely because of his naked honesty.

“I find myself in good spirits, sir,” she responded, sticking to protocols or propriety. A maiden was to address a human with respect.

Yasir’s smile faltered ever so slightly, the gesture rippling across his well trimmed lustrous black beard. “Now now, please, Rick has provided a great deal of boons to me and my family. It would be a disservice to insist on formality from one of his wives.”

She sucked air sharply, cheeks gaining a layer of warmth. “I am not his wife.”

The man chuckled amicably. “You must excuse me for the assumption, the ways of my people are not as strict as those found here.”

Indeed he was right. The people of the Golden Sands had caught her interest during her formative years. Their holistic approach towards enchanting design had fascinated her. It was through this interest that she’d learnt of their ways, it had come out as a disappointment to learn how little say humans had in their everyday lives. In the culture of Yasir’s people, it was the maidens who ruled the abode as if a council.

“You are an honored guest within my abode all the same.” Yasir bowed once more, gesturing for her to follow inside. “Lady Dia’s request has been fulfilled, my dearest Ahina has found it quite challenging.”

Eva nearly corrected him, Dia was no lady. But in this she couldn’t bring herself to voice the opinion. The healer had all but the golden collar needed to mark her status. The only reason anyone in the city believed it was Kiara who was the “official” partner was because they believed her to be human.

“How is your family?” She asked.

“Fortune has graced us once more. None were harmed during the attack.” He absently smoothed his beard, closing the door and leading her further inside. “The weaver-den being lost to the flames was a mildling price to pay for such luck. It has given my cherished one the opportunity to teach some of the trade to our children.”

“Any of them Spinners?”

“Humans one and all.” His chest rumbled with a good-mannered chuckle. “Unless one of them is graced with a thickening of their blood, then they will have to learn the trade of coin rather than their mother’s craftsmanship.”

Her polite smile faltered.

“Forgive me,” Yasir hastened to speak. “I am aware not all find the notion to be as much of a blessing as my people do.”

No, of course they wouldn’t. A human becoming a maiden was a tragedy, not something to be celebrated. Again, Eva held her tongue. She hadn’t come here to exchange cultural notions and debate. “Think nothing of it,” she answered in turn. “I merely hope that Miss Dia’s request hasn’t caused any inconveniences.”

“It was a trifle, nothing more.” Yasir’s enthusiastic demeanor was right back. “My beloved found the design to be an inspiring one. I suspect she might even seek out Rick to speak further of the fashions of his world.”

Eva nodded slightly, not adding to the statement. Dia hadn’t told her what sort of clothes she’d commissioned, nor for what purpose. But she could guess that this was part of that “favor” the healer had mentioned.

"Do you harbor any preferences for refreshments? I've been given to understand that non-vegetable milk and tea might be compatible with a Fledgling’s unique needs, but I confess I am not an authority on the matter."

Her eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. "You have fresh milk?"

"A delightful Cowgirl resides just a few houses down, and she had some surplus. I will have it ready in a moment." Yasir's smile expanded subtly, pleased at her surprise. He approached the common room, slowing his steps and giving her a cautious look. "A word of caution. My wife, if nothing else, is zealous in regards to her craft." He offered her a teasing wink. "She can become anxious in these matters, do not begrudge her for it.” He bowed with flourish. "I'll be back shortly."

The door clicked shut, and Eva was left on her own.

The room was voluminous for a house of this size, but what immediately caught her attention was the furniture that’d been stacked and affixed neatly to the high ceiling. Threads of silk firmly secured everything out of the way, adding an odd dimensionality to the available space. Eva's stride faltered as her gaze collided with Ahina, the Spinner.

Spinners were easy to identify by the four large spider-like limbs protruding from their back. Ahina’s were tipped like spears and a pure chitinous black, with yellow rings marking the joins. They contrasted with the matron’s already naturally dark complexion, the woman clearly a fellow of the Golden Sands.

“This one greets the Lord’s left hand,” her words were spoken while not looking directly at her, bowing her head and affixing her gaze to Eva’s left shoulder. “We shall proceed with the measurements.”

Swallowing the rising apprehension, Eva stepped closer. "Might I glimpse the garments first?"

"They are not finished.” The words carried finality to them. With her four spider appendages she brought up several thin lengths of silk rope.

The Fledgling forced herself to swallow again, the knot in her throat was stubborn. She extended her arms. "Very well."

Ahina responded with a flat gaze. "The clothes are meant to be worn on their own." She pointed at Eva's ensemble of pants, cape, and shirt, her gesture sharp and exact.

With a grimace, she nodded. "...Understood."

Eva carefully unclasped her cape, pausing a moment to check the room one more time. Assured of their isolation, she set about removing her outermost garments, carefully folding them and setting them aside. Reduced to mere breeches and the chest wraps, she suppressed a shiver, the air in the room a chilly touch against her skin.

A moment of silence followed, with miss Ahina’s finger not having moved an inch.

“...my undergarments as well?” Eva hesitated.

“Yes.”

“What sort of clothes are these?” She insisted, hands idly protecting her remaining protection.

No answer was forthcoming, only those steely copper eyes. Eva grumbled internally, it wasn’t like she could just leave, this had been a favor. They were alone as well, this shouldn’t bother her. She was a maiden. She had to ‘suck it up’. With a grimace, she slowly unwrapped her meager chest, and followed by removing her breeches. Though she attempted to ignore the reality of her nakedness, the embarrassment burned against her cheeks all the same.

This was, perhaps, one of the hurdles she would never truly be able to overcome.

For a maiden to be naked was the peak of practicality. Clothes weren’t easy to make or cheap, and a maiden would be comfortable in anything save extreme weather. Similarly, only the most durable of clothes could survive any battle let alone compare to a maiden’s own natural defenses. This, at least, was the argument many feralborn would provide for their frequent state of undress.

Eva had grown as a human, a noble at that. Clothes were an expression of status and were a tool to reflect one’s own preferences. She’d never been one to follow the trends of the capital, nor had she considered herself gaudy in any degree. But she’d still insisted on pants and long sleeved shirts when given the choice.

Now, standing here naked, she wondered whether these were thoughts the others shared. Monica would eschew clothes in a heartbeat if given the chance. Similarly, Urtha would only put on whatever happened to be at hand. Kiara was one who always took to impractically long dresses. And Dia would take simpler things that mimicked the healer uniforms worn in medical centers with their shin-length skirts. None of them ever commented on her own choice of attire, but surely they’d hold thoughts on the matter?

She’d known of nobles who’d personally design the uniforms of those they owned, Rick clearly was the opposite of this, uncaring for who wore what. Or maybe it was purely due to the lack of availability of clothes from his world? Was that why Dia had sent her here?

“Hm… you are more petite than Miss Dia had suggested.”

Ahina’s voice snapped Eva out of the reverie, cool hand pulling out a length of silk and quickly wrapping it around several points on her chest. The smooth cool touch was gone before she could react, and in its wake the Fledgling was left pulling her hands up against her chest.

Indignation burned in her face. “Am I to stand mockery as well?”

“Be still,” was the simple retort. Ahina’s quartet of extra limbs spinning thread, weaving it around her. Every time it would tighten, chafing against her skin, and immediately release, leaving behind a flushed sensation.

As soon as it began it was over, and Eva let out a sigh of relief.

One Ahina mirrored.

The older matron pulled away, gracefully pulling a dreadlock out of her face and moving deeper into the room. She took a coal-stick and dre lines on her threads, most likely the measurements. “A trim body,” she mused to herself. “The adjustments will be minimal. It should not take much to make the gown properly fitted.”

“Gown?” The word slipped from Eva's lips as she hastily dressed back up.

Her question hovered unanswered in the dimly lit room. The matron had retreated through the door and disappeared deeper into the house. Within seconds, another door opened, and Yasir glided in, smiling warmly with a twinkle in his eyes. “I trust things have gone well?” he asked with a disarming soft voice, comfort oozing out of his every gesture as he placed a tray on a nearby chair. "Apologies for the meal's humbleness. I've procured as many options as I could, pick whatever you’d prefer."

Caught in a moment of reflection, Eva lingered, her gaze fixed on the door through which Ahina had vanished. "She alluded to a gown, didn't she?" A hint of unease hitched a ride on her words.

"Indeed, Miss Dia unveiled a collection of traditional attires from the Lord's homeland." He emitted a slight cough, a tell-tale sign of discomfort as he averted his gaze. "She suggested that you be looking to dazzle him?"

Eva straightened, a jolt running down her spine. The maiden waged war against the heat that was searing its way into her cheeks, looking the other way. Her hands quickly reached up to rub against them, trying to urge the blood to go anywhere else. Ever since that night she hadn’t been able to meet his eyes, and now this. Why must her body betray her in such a way? She’d been married! Granted, it’d been one of convenience, but surely she should’ve been able to control herself better than this. She wasn’t some hot-blooded teen!

“This is very uncomfortable.” She proclaimed in an attempt to break the silence, if just to keep it from getting more awkward.

“Seeing the company Rick has, it is without doubt that your heart is quite audacious.” Yasir chuckled good-naturedly.

“Glutinous, more like.” She shifted, glancing at the platter and taking the mug of warm milk-tea. Her fingers caressed the wood. “I can’t think of anything else that would draw me to him. Nothing but his…” she sighed.

“Blood?” Yasir offered.

Eva didn’t answer, pulling the mug up and tentatively sniffing it.

One of the first lessons she’d learnt was that, as a Fledgling, her body would violently reject a great deal of things she’d once found palatable. The heaviest blow had been getting sick out of eating some bread. So anything new she tried, she’d do so slowly and tentatively, to avoid her stomach from staging a coup once more.

A small sip traveled down her throat, its taste echoing something from her past. She was certain she had tasted something like it a few winters ago. Yet, as the liquid settled within her, it failed to evoke the soothing warmth she anticipated. Her tongue felt as if detached, it identified the mingling of milk and tea in her mouth, but failed to convey any emotion. It was as if it had made an analysis of a flavor profile rather than genuinely experiencing it.

"May I interest you in the musings of a humble merchant?" Yasir queried, taking a seat opposite to her, leaving the platter of food between them. "It appears, from my perspective, that your heart perceives him in the manner a human’s might a maiden."

The proposition was met with a dismissive scoff from Eva. "Such a notion is ludicrous," she retorted sharply, devoid of hesitation. "While I concede my situation is unconventional, I am certainly not gripped by delusions. What makes you think such a wild conjecture?"

"Merely an observation, Miss Evangeline, that you only ever seem at ease when in his presence," he said, his gaze wandering toward the distant door. "I often find a comforting sense of safety when in close proximity to my cherished Ahina. Perhaps you find a familiarity in this?"

Her eyes widened just a fraction. Eva’s first instinct was to deny it of course, but she stopped and pondered, looking back. How often had he put obstructions to the tribe to keep them from going after her? More than a few still held very strong opinions about the Vampires, and Eva by extension. And it was no secret Dia and Monica had held nothing but contempt for her throughout many weeks after the events of that night.

Did she really feel safer with him? Her mind supplied one more fact, of a beach and waves and- “T-That's not an accurate representation," she deflected hastily, turning her gaze away. Her hand unconsciously fluttered to her cheek, feeling the unsettling warmth that had taken residence there and refused to leave.

"My mistake, then." He apologized, but his voice resonated with unmasked mirth. "Is the milk to your liking?"

"It... does not instigate any discomfort," she admitted, her hand encircling the mug once more, the roughness of the wood grounding her scattered thoughts. As she took another sip, her mind wrestled with numerous things. Questions upon questions. "Might you have an inkling of what Rick's thoughts regarding this situation are?"

"His lordship guards his heart closely, but..." He trailed off, intentionally allowing the silence to stretch, baiting her curiosity. Yasir's laughter filled the room when she pivoted to face him fully. "I beg your pardon for my jest. If you seek my insights, I would advise you to look at his hands."

"His hands?" Eva blinked repeatedly. “I guess there is something of interest there. They are smooth like a noble’s, are you referring to that?”

“Though I agree, I meant to focus on where his hands are, and what they are doing,” Yasir said. "His words may be chosen with caution, but his actions are rather eloquent. If he delegates a task, it is an expression of his trust in the person's abilities," he explained as he rose from his seat, dusting off his garments. "In my years as a merchant, I have noted that such individuals lean towards the language of unspoken gestures. A firm handshake, a reassuring pat on the shoulder, or a gentle touch. If he speaks with someone but his hand is upon another’s shoulder, then it is surely a sign of where his thoughts truly lay." He shook his head while picking up the serving platter. "But, undoubtedly, your insight into these matters would surpass mine. You have spent much longer with him, after all."

"What does that mean?" she asked, voice hitching a note higher.

"Merely nothing," came the whimsical retort, the man standing up and heading for the door. “I will be back briefly.”

Exactly three steps after he’d closed the door, Ahina’s opened. Eva was sure this was some kind of custom at this point. “Why do you two do that?”

“Human business and maiden business are not to be mixed,” the Spinner answered firmly, closing the door behind her. Her hands were gingerly cradling a wooden tray, its cargo containing a concerningly small amount of fabric.

“Is that…?” Despite herself, Eva wished the content was merely the undergarments. It would certainly be better than the alternative.

Ahina didn’t answer, putting down the tray and turning her focus to a particular item she’d brought. A piece of metal that appeared like a ladle that’d been flattened. Eva focused on it as well, wondering what such a tool would be meant to be for. That is, until she noticed a glimmer of light upon it.

“This was a present from the Lord,” the Spinner’s voice was sharp, almost a threat as she turned to her. “I would insist that you keep this a secret. We’ve yet to perfect the process.”

An uncomfortable knot formed in Eva's throat, an unvoiced question burrowing its way into her. When had Rick done this? It was only recently that she’d been keeping some distance from him. “I won’t tell anyone,” she reassured.

“Good.” With a modicum of satisfaction Ahina stepped closer and presented the piece to Eva. “We would like to convey our gratitude to the Lord’s generosity if possible.”

Eva was deaf to the words, eyes widening at the realization of what she was being shown. It was a mirror, a perfect mirror, it contained a clarity to its image that could only be compared by something made through hours of meticulously laid enchantments followed by regular upkeep. Evans Bavtha had looked at himself through such objects, and thus Evangeline had known the face she’d once worn quite well.

It was the reason why her first reaction was to deny what she saw there, what she knew to be her own face.

She’d seen glimpses of it, in muddled water or in the dark reflections of the glass inside the fortress. Always a pale shape with red eyes and long black hair, but she’d never bothered to look closer.

And now there it was, Evangeline’s face.

The very first thought that emerged was that she had her mother’s cheekbones, high and sculpted to make glaring down at others all the easier. She could recognize other features from her family, the way her brow could arch with the same exactitude of a piece of architecture. Or how her lips could so easily curl, leaving her neutral face appearing half-way into a bout of disdain.

If she looked closer, she could find some of the monster, the one who’d taken everything from her. The way her nose followed a straight bridge, the way her fangs peeked over her lower lip, the near predatorial austere allure in her jawline, the ebony locks and frosty porcelain skin. But there was something entirely new there, something that shattered the nobility of her features, something that she did not know the origin of and that was entirely her own: her eyes. She had large eyes, almond-shaped and expressive. They were not the color of blood but rather of rubies, shimmering and deep, transparent. They were pools that were meant for another to look into and lose themselves in. Such eyes were meant to gaze up at someone, they were delicate, vulnerable, a glass that might shatter at any moment.

The maiden scrutinized the dichotomy. Was this the face Rick had been looking at? Was this the reason he’d held her so close? The memory of the scarred lips brought a fresh wave of color to her cheeks, despite her paleness, her face gained color easily. Eva quickly returned the mirror to the Spinner, uncertain why she’d been given this object.

“That…”

“Is you,” came Ahina’s soft murmur.

Eva slowly nodded, trying to bring herself to acknowledge the fact, but still feeling as if she were out at sea on a boat trapped in a storm. Her eyes moved to the Spinner. "You appear… I…" Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she sought any words to break the silence. "By what method is this mirror crafted?"

“The acid the Lord produces is mixed with silver, and a few other ingredients. When left to settle on glass, this is the result,” she disclosed, releasing a soft sigh and shifting her shoulders to ease some of the tension there. “To hear of one’s beauty from another is an experience entirely different to witnessing it with such clarity.” There was amusement in her tone, a small smile on her lips. “My husband has not allowed me rest from this fact.”

“It’s sure to become popular,” Eva commented, trying to fathom some insight into the item, but unable to properly escape the thoughts of what she’d seen there.

“We think as much, especially when it will cost less than most available variants,” Ahina agreed.

Both maidens glanced at the wooden tray and the bundle of cloth therein. Eva noted that the Spinner was making a point not to bring up the subject and instead wait her out. “So those clothes-”

“Will surely help to draw the Lord’s attention,” the maiden answered brusquely, her smile slightly bashful.

Confronted by Ahina's penetrating, copper-toned gaze, Eva found herself swallowing hard once more before managing a nod. Her curiosity led her eyes to descend to the tray being offered. Upon seeing the contents, a fresh rush of heat ignited her cheeks, their glow rivaling that of the fiercest smithy.

“There’s almost nothing there!” Her voice came out in a shrill screech.

“I can assure its efficacy,” Ahina responded, an unusual solemnity accompanying her words. Her dark complexion betrayed a slight deepening to the coloration of her own face.

“This must be some kind of odd undergarment, surely?” Eva appealed, her voice laced with desperation.

“Oh no, the undergarments are…” she coughed. “They are there.”

“You cannot be…” She fought against every instinct and pulled the pieces of clothing upwards. Underneath she discovered a pile of red string. “No.” She gasped in horror.

"Miss Dia was explicit in her instruction that this is a unique attire, akin to those worn by inhabitants of the Lord’s homeworld during public festivities." the Spinner’s voice faltered, averting her gaze. "It makes one imagine that the women of the Lord’s world are undoubtedly… courageous.”

It was then that realization struck.

The reason behind Dia’s fervent promises of “giving her an opportunity”.

Of the lengths the healer was going to arrange all of this.

There was just one possible answer.

This had to be some form of revenge.

-

[069] [Development (Eli)]

“One, two, three…” Eli used her foot to etch a basic layout of the territory surrounding Sinco on the dirt. “...four, five, six.” She proceeded to separate it into sections and number each of them. None of the sectors reached too far out from the city, this was meant to be a light solo expedition, after all.

She produced a bone dice from one of her many pockets and tossed it into her water-cup. The Hound made a mental note of the number and proceeded to throw it four more times.

The maiden checked her inventory once more, fingers making a quick list of everything that was on her multi-pocketed dress and bag. She tested her hunting bow, counted her arrows, and reached up to caress her throat to remove her-

The collar wasn’t there.

A brief panic followed, the maiden looked around wildly. Had she already removed it? But it wasn’t in-

She let out a sigh of relief. No, she hadn’t worn a collar since waking that fateful day in the tribe. A melancholic smile reached her lips, a swirl of emotions surging out in every direction. Loss and bitter anger mixed with fulfillment and determination. The death of her family was a wound that she would carry to her dying breath.

She’d never had a chance to process the loss, by the time she’d woken from the curse they were gone for good. How could a mother grieve her child without a body? How would a wife grieve her husband without a goodbye? Revenge, it turned out, had been a great motivator. It kept her moving when the world felt as if it had lost all meaning. With Thorley gone, slayed like a beast in the very streets of the city, she’d turned her focus to the Lord and Lady.

Gratitude might not carry the same force as hate, but to anyone dying of thirst, muddied waters were no different to a fresh spring. As far as she was concerned, it was as good an excuse as any to gear up and scout the vicinity. Not like there was anyone else in the city capable of doing the job half as well as she could.

One last look at the map to confirm her route, and proceeded to scuff it with her foot. She began to make her way to the main gate.

A part of her wanted to stay by the Lady’s side, but the Hunter in her knew better.

They needed to keep a close eye on any movement near and around the city.

Wary eyes trailed after Eli, she could see many a maiden trying to avoid drawing her attention. Others put on hard faces and unwelcoming gates. It was hard to miss the animosity and contempt some of the citizens held for her. In their eyes she was not just a part of the militia, but also the right hand of the Lady.

She could almost smell it, how the city balanced on the edge of a knife.

The wildlings had been fought off and the famine had come to an end. Many were grateful to the Lord for these things. Others now took the opportunity to look upon the other “problems”. One of the most important people within the tiny city had died under the Lord’s roof. The Orc tribe moved about the city with impunity, acting with the same freedom only a human would be allowed. And most importantly, it was all but an open secret that Lord Rick stood in opposition to the kingdom. The citizens of Sinco might be easily persuaded to fight against wildlings and ferals, their survival was on the line after all. But to rebel against the kingdom was a different question entirely.

The city had seen an end to a petty Lord, who’s to say they wouldn’t open the gates if the kingdom came looking for the new Lord’s head?

Perhaps the festival could see an end to this, or maybe not, the anticipation was palpable. The end-of-summer festival was an important event, it marked when the season of growth would turn to the season of preparation.

Winter would be upon them, and the Frostcallers waited for none.

“Heading out?” The guard shifted in their post, standing straighter and giving her a look-over.

“Someone needs to keep an eye past the treeline.” Eli shrugged easily enough. “Flyers can only see so much, you need a nose in the dirt to know what’s really going on. Will be gone for two nights at most.”

“Your path?”

Eli shrugged. “Nothing set,” she lied.

Someone had betrayed her and her Hunter sisters to the Vampires. It was clear the Lord had been the one responsible, but someone under him must have been the one to share the necessary details. In the end, it was as the Lady had said: it is best to only share that which needs to be shared.

If something happened to her out in the wilderness, knowing what path she’d taken would only really make it easier to find her corpse. If there was one left at all.

“Tribe’s going to hunt the wildlings?”

“I don’t know, don’t really get told much.” She shrugged, another lie. She’d been around Rick enough to be rather certain he intended to finish them off before they had the chance to try a second time.

The guard glanced at her more pointedly. “Lady’s condition also a mystery?”

Eli stared down at the maiden, taking a full moment to focus on her. She was a younger Doggirl, but the scent wasn’t familiar, clearly someone from the militia but not one of Rick’s. “Ask that again.”

“What?”

She stepped closer, hands on her hips. “Ask your question again, pup.”

Her jaw set. “You were one of us.”

“I never stopped. Who’s in charge of you?” She asked coolie.

With a loud snort, the maiden made a gesture at the opposite side of the gate. “That’d be Aba.”

“Good. Be seeing you, pup.” She walked through the gate, taking a quick glance around until she found Aba.

The Centaur had been in the middle of one of her many meal-breaks, munching on some greens and keeping herself busy staring at the farms. The maiden gave a glance at Eli, acknowledging her as the older maiden approached. “Something to share?”

“What happened to Talo?”

“Fucked up during training, cleaning latrines.” The maiden replied with a shrug. “You know you don’t have the authority here.”

“I’m not here to give orders,” she lied, earning a scowl from the brown-eyed fellow. “Just keep an eye out. People like to know who goes in and out of the city.”

“Mhm,” the other dismissed, keeping her gaze on the Elves as they tended to the crops.

Eli shrugged. “The Lady doesn’t have anyone to ride if she needs to head out. Perhaps I can remind her of this.”

“I’ll think about it. Will the Hunters come back?”

The Hound shook her head. "If the Lord calls for their return, I'll be first to step up."

“I see.” The maiden didn’t look back, brows furrowing in thought. “You have a job to do, right?” That marked the end of the conversation, a flick of the maiden’s equine tail dismissing her.

That she did. She waved goodbye and made a mental note to look for a different Centaur and see if she could get them to show interest. Aba wasn’t the brightest out there, the girl thought she could keep going as she was without getting involved in the city’s politics. Unfortunately for her, she was one of many bonded to Rick, marking her as a potential target for anyone looking for trouble.

It was another job the Lady had given them: to consolidate everyone bonded to the Lord. A line had to be drawn. Those who did not support him or saw the wisdom of his ways needed to have their bonds broken and be sold off. Preferably to another city or village.

Rick could not be allowed to be harmed. The most important way to ensure his safety was to vet those closest to him first and work their way outward. It was this same mindset that Eli and her sisters were applying to his laboratory. The Lady might not have been conscious to issue the command, but everyone had agreed she would’ve sought to keep the technology from falling into the wrong hands.

With the distractions out of the way, she turned her attention to the forest.

The hill sloped upwards, the signs of the attack were mostly gone, washed out by the rain that’d poured down on Sinco for nearly a week. Why the Lord had insisted on keeping the deluge for that long was anyone’s guess, but Eli suspected it’d been to drain as much water from the clouds above as possible. The sunny warmth was sure to uplift the tribe’s mood.

Setting down a rhythm, she took measure of herself once she’d reached the edge of the forest. Eli breathed in, trying to catch as many scents as she could find. Nothing stood out to her, not a soul had moved through this place after the rains. The only exceptions were hints of boars and small animals.

Removing her dress and stuffing it into her bag, the Hound proceeded past the treeline, ears sharp and knife ready for a fight. Slowly she walked, one step at a time, slower than even a casual walk, eyes darting every which way.

Nothing.

Her pace crept upwards, turning into a power walk, and then a jog. The Hunter would make a point to stop at random times without rhyme or reason, stretching out her senses in every direction.

Still nothing.

Minutes turned to hours, and her progress into the forest had steadied. She’d made a lot of sound and encountered no threats. Now she turned to sneaking, pulling the shadows and cloaking herself in them, urging the darkness to remove her scent, remove her sounds, remove her presence. She didn’t dive into the shadows, however, as that would defeat the purpose of her mission.

The world within the darkness made it harder to detect things occurring where the light dwelt.

But that ability to better detect her surroundings made the tranquility eerie. In all her years the forest had never felt this empty. Even after a rush, there would always be ferals scattered about. Mostly those that’d been smart enough to hide, or powerful enough to win. Now however, there was a deathly stillness to it all.

Only the rare animal would perturb it. A hog here, a bird there, some rodents scurrying under the roots…

Eli wasn’t sure what that would mean in the long run. A rush drained the feral population, it meant they wouldn’t be as much of a problem for the following years. But with it emptied this much? There were bound to be larger consequences in some way, ferals were a scourge to settlements, but they were also a part of the ecosystem.

She’d heard of how some places had found themselves surrounded by lush green jungles within a generation, all because of the right combination of ferals existing nearby. And how the eradication of those ferals brought about a return to the former state. Would something like that happen here? She wasn’t even sure how far this ‘silence’ extended.

Maybe it went all the way to the Deep Woods.

The thought of that place made her shudder. The Deep Woods were not a place she’d dare enter without very good reason; she imagined that if the wildlings ran off over there, then they were not going to be a problem for much longer.

Eli made her way through the first two sectors for her route, stopping to eat when the time for such presented itself. She didn’t hunt anything while moving about, not wanting the blood to potentially draw attention.

It was on her second day that she stumbled on to something noteworthy.

The scent of a corpse.

Unmistakable in its pungent potency, it drew Eli’s attention and route in a specific direction. The Hunter knew better than to rush in, corpses were a rarity to be encountered, hogs typically made quick work of those. And there had been hogs within and around the forest, which rang bells of caution.

Whenever something didn’t fit, then it was likely because it was part of a trap. The feral curse, for all its cruelty that robbed one of their mind and intellect, was sometimes cruller still because it left some of it. Just enough to turn the maiden into something far more dangerous.

The maddened feral Hound that lashed out at anything that moved wasn’t what killed you. It was the feral Ursine waiting to drop on you from above.

Carefully she continued her approach, systematically ruling out potential venues of ambush. She carefully shifted her location relative to the source of the scent to catch other possible smells. She used her darkness to quietly climb up some of the trees and inspect the surroundings from several angles. And only when she was satisfied that either the attack was as paranoid as she was, or not at all, did she proceed further.

The scent of rotting flesh gained a new quality to it, a sickeningly sweet fruity undertone. Rotten plantlife, though of what sort she couldn’t tell. It took her a moment to fully understand what she was looking at once she got close enough.

A body, consumed within the withered husk of a tree sprout. The tiny plant, a meager two feet in height, was blackened, sloughing off, half-dissolved by its own decomposition or something else.

Twenty years as a Hunter, and not once had Eli seen such a thing. The closest she’d seen of this sort had been the result from a spurned Elf farmer unleashing vengeance on her lover. The maiden had put charged seeds in her partner’s meal and watched the human’s slow demise as the plant grew from inside shortly after.

Was this the result of some maiden with plant-related powers?

She took a small sample of the corpse and the dying plant, carefully placing the samples in glass vials. But she made sure not to disturb it further, and made a mental note of its location.

As she continued her route, she found more such corpses. Each and every one of them having died in much the same ways, and adorned by the same blackened dead plant. First five, then ten, then thirty. The further she ventured from Sinco, the more frequent their numbers.

The fact that all of them were at the same level of decomposition was a sign they’d all died within relatively the same timeframe. Though Eli had a hard time figuring out whether they’d died before the attack on the city or after it. Perhaps this was what happened to those infected by the plant, without something else, they’d eventually be overcome and die.

She wasn’t going to bet on that, however.

Still, there wasn’t any sign of any activity, the wildlings had clearly turned tail deeper. This felt important enough to merit going back and report. Surely the pink-haired girl clinging to the Lord’s side would find use out of it.

Eli chuckled at herself. The healer, though skilled in the games the Lady played, was too young to understand the long game.

Rick was to rule this land. Such was the ultimate goal of the Lady, an objective Eli wholeheartedly agreed with. Not least of which because she was the oldest of the Lady’s servants, matronage was right around the corner for her. In just a few years, she would be the mother to a lineage of kings.

And the healer’s little games would be brought to an end.

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