Alchimia Rex

There were many ways Rick could have broken down the situation to explain in exacting detail how fucked he was. The tribe was rushing in; the knights were trying to get to him; it plaza was a death-trap. So rather than waste time hoping for a miracle, he turned towards the only direction that had no knights or maidens at all: the fort.

With one look at his hostage, he reached out to Eva’s unconscious body and picked her up in the best firefighter carry he could. In his arms, the maiden was lithe, small, frail. So he set off, stabbing Thorley in the stomach on his way in to make sure the knights would at least slow down to protect him or something.

Monica’s roar punctuated the sound of clashing steel. Several of the Orcs had joined in to slow down the pursue.

A stabbing pain on his thigh confirmed one of the armored maidens had thrown her spear at him but had missed by a breath. The metal pole embedded itself into the stone. Even with the help, it was proving to be little more than interference; the knights were being delayed, not halted.

With blood dripping down his leg, Rick pushed harder.

The outside of the fortress was limestone white, shining like an ivory tower. But it hid the harsh utilitarian edge of the inner architecture. Thick stone blocks reinforced with metal beams, the ceiling lined up with glass bulbs that glowed with a dim orange light. It cast the inside in a gloom that, compared to the sunny world outside, might as well have been pitch dark.

Rick felt like he’d been blinded, needing several seconds to adjust to the drop in light, stumbling his way towards the stairs leading up and slamming through the first open door he could find. It was heavy dark metal, and he didn’t wait to slam it shut behind him, lowering the thick beam that locked it into place.

Three seconds later, something heavy slammed against the frame. But the door held fast.

“He’s here!” Someone shouted, hammering at the door. “Get the key!”

Rick’s only response was to jam his sword into the mechanism and pray it would hold out.

Catching his breath, he looked around to orient himself. It was a mostly open room, with a series of stone tables and walls pointed at… the door? It clicked after a moment later, this was some sort of choke-point for potential invaders, meant only to ensure tactical advantage for the defenders.

There was a single door at the other side, and he didn’t waste a second to rush out, locking that one into place as well. Only then did he dare to check himself over. The cut on his leg wasn’t serious, but the adrenaline was the only thing keeping him from feeling the pain.

This new area was a corridor, an open space that left him exposed to anyone that might emerge from the adjacent rooms. Rick just picked one and closed the door behind himself, putting Eva down.

The Fledgling grunted, barely conscious. Her healing ability was kicking in, the bruises throughout her body slowly vanishing. But not quickly enough. With a small curse, he pried her mouth open, puncturing the skin on his finger and letting the blood trickle into her mouth.

Even unconscious, the maiden suckled eagerly.

“C’mon…”

Rick could feel the fight going on downstairs, and upstairs as well. Monica, Dia, and Urtha were a well of desperate seething rage. But one that wasn’t moving forward all too easily from the entrance of the building. Whatever the knights had going on, they were making it hard for the others to push through.

Which, to a point, was good. It meant less of them were actively hunting Rick.

The rhythmic thuds a room over told him that ‘less’ didn’t mean ‘all’.

He needed to find a way out, to put the tribe between the knights and himself. Either that, or find a hole to hide in until the tribe could finish the job. But it definitely wasn’t a sound idea to have them charge a fortified location like this, too much loss.

“Mhm…”

Eva mumbled, licking his finger, ruby eyes fluttering open.

“Enjoying the meal?” Rick asked, plucking his digit from her lips before she could clamp down. “How are you feeling?”

“I am unsure how being hit by a lightning bolt feels, but I am certain it must be close to what I feel right now.” She grunted, standing up on shaky legs and immediately flinching when she heard the hammering. “Where…?”

“Inside the fort. I need you to help me get out of here.” With the Fledgling being back in action, he focused on the room. Barracks of some sort, beds and closets, with-.

“You’re bleeding.” She caressed his outer thigh, pulling the stained fingers and looking at them a little too intently.

“Focus.”

“Sorry.” She rubbed the stained digits against her coat. “Even if we open a window, I don’t have enough to jump us both. I need… more energy.”

That meant getting her fangs into a maiden, Rick sighed. “Then for now we move. Before they can find us.” Not that there were many places to run to, the near tower-like structure of the fortress meant their only options were going up. “By any chance you wouldn’t be able to fly, right?”

Eva shot him a confused look.

“Thought as much.”

He set off, with the Fledgling close in tow. They moved through the barracks, not finding anything of use, and going back into the corridor. There were other doors, but they were all dead ends. The thumping on the corridor door left them both swearing and moving faster through the doors, looking for whichever led anywhere else. They found the stairs to the upper floor and barred the heavy door, following the spiral stone staircase that came at a halt the next floor over.

Did these people ever bother to just put one continuous staircase that led all the way through!? They shut the metal door, this time having nothing to bar it with. The second floor had a far simpler design than the one below, being one singular long corridor that led to the next set of stairs.

At either side there were only two heavy doors, with fist sized holes placed at regular intervals. Eva pulled Rick back. “If they left anyone, then they’d be here. The holes allow spears or elemental attacks.”

The maiden stepped forward, and without warning, broke into a full sprint, stopping at the nearest door and trying to open it. The mechanism wouldn’t budge, and she swore, sprinting to the next one, and then the next. None of them were open. But at least nothing happened.

The sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs was all the sign Rick needed to make a run for it, meeting with Eva at the other side just in time to see the door at the end of the corridor clicking open without even a bit of resistance. That was when the screams started,

“Fuck!”

Eva ushered him into the stairs and locked the door, tearing off her hood and quickly wrapping it around the mechanism. They both hoped it would be enough to keep it jammed, to buy them more time. They moved further up, two steps at a time, Eva taking the lead and moving with a speed that far exceeded anything her short frame should have provided.

The door at the end of the staircase swung open, and they froze.

A dozen pairs of eyes were staring back.

The floor was open space, with tables and shelves littering near every available surface, light streaking in glass windows with large metal shutters ready to close from the inside, the glow of the lightbulbs jittering overhead with the impacts that were happening further below. And there were no less than a dozen Mousegirls standing there, wearing leather uniforms and thick black gloves, wide eyes and large round ears. Upon their uniforms was a gold and red crest of a lion in front of a pile of gold.

They’d just stepped into a workshop of some sort.

The silence was deafening.

Behind them, there was the sound of a door being torn down, followed by heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs.

“We’re under attack!” Eva proclaimed, stepping forward, hand swinging to point at the nearest Mousegirl. “Get me tables, block the door! We need to hold them back! We need to protect Lord Richard!”

The maiden squeaked, jumping out, but complying in quick order, and Eva hurried to point fingers, barking orders. The mousy maidens complied quickly, heavy wooden tables being picked up and carried to the entrance.

“There are traitors amongst the knights.” Rick declared, not missing a beat as Eva rushed to the window and swore.

He leaned closer to see what had caught her attention. “No shadows.” She muttered with a grimace.

It was a sharp drop; the fortress wasn’t a tower, but it was damn close. The outside surface was stark white and glowing under the sunlight, and smooth. There was nothing but the drop. A drop that ended in cruel flat cobblestone.

“What happens if you enter the shadows at high speed?”

“I slow down only a little.” She muttered. “And I don’t have the energy for both of us, not without…” Her gaze moved to the mice who were frantically pushing the wall of tables and debris against the door.

A roar broke out from below, a roar that shook the building.

Monica.

Rick glanced at the door that led down once more. The feline was on her way, they just needed to hold out until she’d worked her way through the knights with the help of whoever else was available. But the tight spaces would give the knights the definite advantage and make them far more effective at stalling.

The bond practically thrummed with Monica’s frustration, contrasted with Urtha’s elation. It was a combination that was making his blood boil, hands opening and closing. He was gritting his teeth almost audibly.

“We need to move upwards, this place is the worst for the knights to fight in. Either they all follow us, or they split.” He muttered, turning to the door at the opposite side. “Eva, do you think you can pick up one of those tables?”

“Easily.” She nodded, approaching the pile and hefting the unwieldy chunk of wood that was three times her weight, much to the awe of the Mousegirls.

“The knight’s armor, does it have anything for seeing in the dark?”

The Fledgling grunted. “Not if they’re the standard.”

He nodded, good enough. “Listen up everyone!” Rick called out. “We’re going to retreat together. The moment I give the order, all of you need to run out to close the shutters, turn off the lights, and follow us up the stairs. Eva, you’re going to take one of those tables to block the door.”

The sound of the metal door at the far end opening made everyone freeze.

There, standing at the unguarded side, having clearly descended from above, was the blond knight, white wings glowing with golden power, and her face a visage of righteous fury. Rick’s eyes widened as the maiden pointed her weapon at his chest.

Something within him shrieked for his attention, something outside, to the right. A familiar feeling of-

“You will die now.”

“Everyone run!”

The table thrown from across the room didn’t get so much as a twitch from the blond maiden; she swung her weapon once and cut through the wood like it was little more than paper. The split second of time it provided gave Rick the chance to bolt towards the window.

Something flew over his head, a thrown metal shard that broke the glass before he reached the window. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed it’d been the Mousegirl with gray hair who’d thrown it.

The next instant, Eva’s arms had wrapped around his torso and they were in freefall, blinded by the sun and the reflective white coating of the fortress. Rick tried not to scream as they flailed.

From the workshop, the angel jumped out to follow.

A shadow plunged from above and overcame the angel, dropping at speed and catching up.

Blue hair buffeted in the wind. Kiara’s body glowed with flickering orange and purple, the power expanding around her as she reached them. “Deep breath!” She shouted, pulling them closer to her body as her wings snapped open.

“WHAT!?”

The world around them twisted and shrieked, Rick’s body torn by every direction and every force.

Then, water.

Bubbles and cold salt filled his mouth, he convulsed as he tried to breathe some of it in by accident. A hand grabbed his own and yanked him upwards, air came with sputtering retching and coughs, unable to breathe in anything but hacking wheezes.

His head snapped to look around, finding nothing but water on one side of them, the sea. On the other was the city. They’d landed barely a couple meters away from the shore. Or rather, Kiara had teleported them there.

Eva was kicking up, dragging him and the Succubus to dry land.

“Both of you ok?” He asked.

“Why did you jump!? Are you mad!?” Kiara was pale, shaking like a leaf, and panting. Her golden eyes burned with anger as she struggled to stand on wobbly legs. She was quite energetic, despite looking like she was half dead.

He didn’t answer, looking in the city’s direction.

“Do you have lard for brains!? Don’t stand idle!”

She grabbed him by the collar, yanking him down the shore with hurried steps, Eva following along as she took them both to the nearest beached boat, lifting it up with one hand, and tossing him under it before moving in.

“That Archangel could spot us.” She muttered, making space for Eva. “And I would’ve been hard pressed against her under normal circumstances.”

“You ok?” He put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“I’ll… be fine.” The Succubus relented. “You’re lucky I took the time to check the pier or you’d be a splatter against the cobblestone.”

“What now?” Eva asked in a hushed whisper.

“Now we wait.” She growled, sighing heavily and laying her head against the sand. “The cat will find us when things are cleared out.” With a gesture at the Fledgling, she sighed more. “I’d fuck you so I can recover some of the power I wasted, but you’re practically dry too.”

Rick lay there, closing his eyes and laying on his back as he stared at the raft’s wooden hull. Some part of him knew he should’ve been worried about the Archangel, or maybe about whether someone else found them out. But his thoughts drifted to that single last moment before everything had gone down the drain.

“I should’ve given him the deal.”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.” Eva proclaimed. “He’d decided by that point.”

There was a tone in her voice that felt almost like she was reminiscing about something. But Rick was too exhausted to pressure anything, closing his eyes and just focusing on the sound of the waves, the smell of the sea, and his own breathing. He could feel the bonds, Monica’s savage fury and Dia’s deep concern, Urtha’s unapologetic enjoyment and Kiara’s irritation, even Eva’s melancholy and, to a degree, the anger within the maidens of the tribe bonded to him.

It was like having several radios next to his ear, each with its own distinct tone, some harder to make out than others.

They quietly remained there, waiting. Nothing external changed, not the sound of the sea nor the smell. But Rick felt it through the bond, a combined cheer and urgency. “It’s over.” He said. “We won.”

Monica reached their location within minutes, and with her, they made their way back to the plaza, Kiara pulling the hood over her head to hide her features.

They lay the corpses of the knights at the entrance of the fortress. The Mousegirls had been brought out and made to kneel at the opposite side of the door. And the crowning jewel of their spoils was the Lord. Kneeling and bound, his black suit was torn and his chest exposed, marred in blood and sweat, his hair a wild mess.

The citizens had gathered, initially brought in by the food, many of them now watched with quiet sunken eyes. All of them keep to the edge of the plaza, well away from the Orcs.

Closer to them were the non-fighters of the tribe, the former slaves, most of whom were now bonded to him. Their eyes burned with fury, but they remained silent.

Rick ignored it all, turning to Urtha. “Who did we lose?”

“Only four, they fought valiantly.” She declared with a smile half-way between pride and regret.

Dia stepped forward. “We have forty with severe injuries, but they’ll recover.”

Rick’s brows tightened. “I didn’t ask for a number.” He looked up at her, stare hard. “I asked who.”

The Orc hesitated. “Lash, Yotul, Rolfish, and Rulfim.”

He nodded. “We will give them proper rites. And we will give their families proper compensation.” He said, then nodded at the knights. “Where’s the Archangel?”

“Flew off north, the birds couldn’t catch her.” Urtha spat.

With a sigh, he turned to face the crowd, the people of the city of Sinco, with Whitneye standing closest amongst them. He carefully contemplated the crowd and, slowly, turned to the metal chair and stool. Somehow, both had remained practically exactly where they’d been left. There was just the detail of how much blood now stained the cobblestone all around them.

Like an island of civility within the stream of brutality.

Quietly, Rick stepped closer.

“You will die.” Thorley spat. “These people know the truth, you serve the Vampires.”

Rick said nothing, eyes on the wooden stool. “Whitneye, approach so that you may be a witness.” He called, turning to the man with the thick mustache as he pulled the chair and sat next to Thorley’s kneeling form. Carefully, he looked over to the Orc holding him in place. “When I ask him a question, if he doesn’t answer with a yes or no, rip one of his fingers off.”

The declaration was loud and clear, and it drew terrified looks from the crowd, the old man in particular.

“Simple yes or no, is your name Thorley Darkton?”

The man glared. “You wouldn’t-AAAAH!”

That was his right thumb.

“Simple yes or no.” Rick repeated. “Dia, stop the bleeding.” The healer, pale, rushed to comply. “Is your name Thorley Darkton?”

“Yes.” The man spoke through gritted teeth, breathing hard and glaring.

Rick nodded, turning to the crowd. “Whitneye, does the medallion confirm it is the truth?”

The old man jolted a little, quickly pulling out the disk and looking down at it. “Y-yes, it does.” He swallowed, looking nervously, about to say something else, but stopping when he gave a quick glance at the Orcs.

“Lord Thorley Darkton, is this city your responsibility? And its citizens?”

The man stared daggers up at him. “Yes.”

“And did you, at any point in time, sell, give away, or purposely surrender any of them to the Vampires?” Blue eyes widened, mouth clamping shut. Rick almost sighed in relief, it’d been a shot in the dark.

He broke the silence with the scream.

Rick just nodded, feeling within him the anger of the maidens of the tribe that had been once its slaves. It was no singular voice, but a cacophony of simmering resentment. “Yes or no Lord Thorley.”

The man shook his head wildly.

“Speak up. Did you betray any of your citizens to the Vampires?”

“No!” The man shrieked as the third finger was removed.

Rick turned to Whitneye, the man had grown three shades paler, nearly as white as the fortress.

“Well?”

“H-He… he lied.” The man swallowed, clutching the medallion. “He lied!” He repeated, louder, for the whole plaza to hear.

“Did you at any point even care about your city?” Rick asked, feeling his blood boiling, the uproar of the crowd raising in pitch and volume. “Or did you plan to just kill them all for your own sake?”

None shouted louder than Thorley. “You traitorous scum! I should’ve-!”

“Gag him.” The command was swift, the execution faster, the Orc only needed to shove the man’s shirt into his mouth, muffling the screams and shouts of rage and indignation.

Rick’s blood was boiling, but his head was calm and clear. Inside his mind he could see what needed to be done. Slowly, he stood up, picking the stool by one of its legs. The grip almost slipped from how heavy it was.

There was only one possible outcome now.

“Lord Thorley Darkton, you betrayed your station, you betrayed your city, and you betrayed your people.” He raised the chair. “I sentence you to die.”

There was just a moment, an instant where the man turned to look at Rick, anger broken into a look of horror.

His eyes were blue.

The swing was swift and decisive, the crack against his face a whisper that struck like thunder.

The Lord fell over.

Dead.

The world went silent, blood rushing into his ears, heart beating like a drum. The body didn’t move, didn’t twitch, didn’t stagger. Dead.

Slowly, he turned to the crowd, dimly aware they were roaring and cheering, but barely able to hear them. “Let this be a lesson!” He lifted the stool into the air, his own voice sounding muffled in his ears. “No one hurts one of our own! No one leaves our own to starve! To die!” The city screamed approval, little more than a dim distant ring. He waited for them to quieten before he turned to the kneeling Mousegirls. “These maidens saved my life, they protected me despite the risk it put them in. They are heroes, and tonight they will be treated as such. Tonight everyone feasts.”

The maidens looked at him with wide eyes, rubbing their wrists as the guards cut off their rope. The gesture got a far larger cheer out of the promise of food than the congratulation of the rodents. And though the Mousegirls looked at him with wide eyes, unsure of whether to be scared or elated, the gray-haired one appeared determined.

Not that it mattered right now.

Everything felt as if it were flowing around him, but without him. The world was spinning outside of the range he could detect or feel anything; he was trapped in a bubble. To Rick, the one thing in his mind was how heavy the blood-stained chair felt in his grasp. His grip on the weapon tight, his entire arm felt numb.

There was a heavy pat on his shoulder that nearly knocked him over.

Urtha’s voice came through as a garbled noise, the cheery tone cutting off as she met his eyes. The Orc’s eyes widened, she reached out to grab him right as his legs gave up.

“Father?”

It was the first time he had ever heard her speak with so much concern.

“I-.”

Before he could say anything else, he hurled. The world was spinning; he was cold, exhausted beyond measure. Heavy hands hefted him before he could topple over, swiftly taking him into the fortress.

He was so tired…