Alchimia Rex

Rick woke to an unfamiliar ceiling not for the first time in recent memory.

“It’s been an hour,” Dia kept his head on the pillow with a firm touch. “You were in shock and crashed from the adrenaline.”

He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of her palm pass over and through him. He recognized the soothing spell for what it was, inviting the balm against his frayed nerves and exhausted body. “Are you going to ask me why I did it?”

“You need to rest.” This close to her, he could feel the well of emotions within the healer through the bond. She’d spoken every syllable with a mix of anxiousness and certainty, a mix of fear and unwavering trust that made him feel like she was looking at someone other than him.

“But?” He offered, feeling the unspoken words linger in her lips.

“Lord Thorley was a noble.” Her tone was soft. “They…”

Rick let out a small sound of disapproval, squeezing her fingers. “You know I’m always open to hear your thoughts.”

Dia nodded. “The Darkton family… there’s not a healer in the kingdom who doesn’t desire some of the enchanted tools they create.” She caressed his forehead. “With that much influence… it would be very easy for them to claim you also killed the Baron of Astunes.”

“And it’s the truth.”

The image had been burned into Rick’s memory. His body on the ground, brain burning from the enchantment that ate away at his mind, and Dia, slashing the Baron’s throat, plunging the dagger into the noble’s flesh to save him.

Dia’s touch stiffened. “Is this punishment?” She whispered. “Has everything that followed us because of…?”

“No.” Rick breathed in, there was a lingering scent of mold and salt, but above it, he could catch a hint of the herbs the healer usually carried with her. It had the scent of mint and honey. “I couldn’t give anyone up then, and I couldn’t now. That’s all.”

She gently stroked his hair. “May fools reach for the Draiga and burn.”

That was not something he’d heard before. “What does that mean?”

“It’s an old wive’s curse.” She muttered. “A Draiga is a maiden, of the same genus as the Dragoness. Their scales burn hotter than any fire when they are enraged.” With a whisper, she pulled herself up to kiss his forehead. “We use it as a warning upon those who seek what they don’t deserve.”

“The world is filled with idiots.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching up to her and caressing her cheek.

She leaned into his touch. “Then it will burn.” She kissed him, drying a tear when she pulled away. “I greet my Lord.” She spoke the words with reverence, and something else. Pride.

It stung.

“I’m no Lord.” He laughed dryly. “They’re desperate, they’d have taken a deal from the Vampires if it meant another meal. They’ll throw me out the instant someone else is at the gates.”

She glared, covering his eyes. “You should rest. And if you don’t agree to it, I will make you rest.” She spoke with a mock growl. “Everything is being taken care of. Yasir and Sir Whitneye are coaxing the people out of their homes to assess who is in most dire need of help. Urtha has the safety situation handled. Kiara insisted on making a celebration out of feeding the citizens, and Eva’s resting… somewhere.”

“Monica here.” The feline patted his leg. “Rick safe.”

“What she said.”

What was there left to do? It wasn’t as if he felt like he could do much more than just lay there. “Fine, you can go help too. Just… don’t put yourself at risk.”

“You’re one to talk.” She leaned over him, laying a soft peck on his lips. “Lord of cheese.”

He swatted at her, the maiden giggling as she escaped his reach, softly closing the door as she left.

And just like that, the world went silent. The walls and windows thick enough no sound could reach inside. It made him keenly aware of his own breathing and how the sheets shifted with every exhale.

His heart thumped, entirely unwilling to calm down.

The weight of Monica’s paw against his chest startled him, the feline not having made a sound, but his hands reached up to stroke the soft fur. In the darkness, her blue eyes weren’t on him, but the door. She was guarding him, and that brought a sense of invulnerability that the darkness had nearly robbed him of. Rick’s fingers slowly drew circles into the fur, feeling her knuckles, her phalanges, her claws, the pads on the very tip of her fingers.

It was a relaxing presence, but one that didn’t keep his mind from churning.

Just like that, the responsibility for the city and its people had fallen on his shoulders.

Was this how it felt? To conquer?

Rick found he didn’t enjoy it much.

The chuckle he let out was bitter.

A year ago, his list of concerns was so… so… insignificant. Tests to grade, rent, and whether the woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with would answer the big question. And now here he was, laying in a stiff bed with scratchy sheets, in a room devoid of a heating or cooling system. If he wanted to warm the room, he’d need to start… something, whatever.

The life before this world felt like a dream.

His body rested, the exhaustion too deep to allow for anything else. The hours melted away, unnoticed, but slow. Rick could only turn towards reviewing the day, breaking it down piece by piece.

Rick wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, protected yet trapped. Four people had died to pay for his mistakes. Who would pay for the next? There was so much he could’ve done, so much he could’ve avoided. If only he’d known more, if only he’d been smarter, if only he’d been better…

He stirred to the sound of music, waking up without having realized he’d fallen asleep. There was a window open, Monica was at his side, her paw still on his chest, light as a feather. “Rick need food.”

She proclaimed with a purr, vanishing into the darkness as if she’d been nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

When he’d first met her, he’d found such absolute silence to be terrifying from a creature nearly twice his height. Now it was reassuring, there was no one she could not sneak up on, none that could see her coming.

Slowly, he sat up and meandered to the window to see what was going on below.

They had illuminated the plaza with torches. By the looks of it, the celebrations were at full swing. The tribe had pulled out just about every scrap of food it had to spare, and the Lord’s hoard had been added to the pile.

The drums were playing, a beat that rattled the tower like it was made of cards. The maidens of the tribe danced, they cheered, and they made merry. The Orcs were the rowdiest, singing praise to the Great Conquering Father, and calling out the names of the fallen with clear pride and awe.

Meanwhile, the former slaves and now tribe-sisters were no less enthusiastic, albeit in a much more coordinated way. Over and over, they would sing the same hymn.

The old lord, his greed had caused such woe

But now he’s been overthrown, don’t you know

The new lord takes the throne

And frees slaves, it’s now shown

That the tyrant’s end, has finally been sown.

It was from this group alone that Rick spotted more than one pair of eyes turning up to his window. They would point, they would raise their ration, and they would sing all the louder. There was a sense of… bittersweet gratitude. His bond to them was nowhere near that of Monica or Dia or even Eva, yet with them gathered like that, it made it easier to sense the shadows lifting from within.

As if he’d vanquished a great evil.

His gaze turned towards the third group. The ones that didn’t celebrate, the citizens. The ones whose faces were thin and eyes sunk in with either long sleepless nights or hunger, or both. They remained at the edges of the light, approaching with the utmost wariness, some with fear, others with anticipation. They formed a line, one with Dia, Kiara, and Sir Whitneye would greet, along a dozen other maidens from the tribe, and the knights.

Rick saw the stunt for what it was: an attempt to show unity.

They would greet the people, give them healing, or food, or both. They would be invited to celebrate with the rest, and the people would only ever approach the food, take whatever they could, and leave. The only humans that approached were those that showed clear signs of some illness or another. The rest remained back, with the children, looking with blank faces or even contempt.

Rick didn’t blame them. He’d just shown up out of nowhere and within the span of a handful of hours removed the man who ruled them.

“Monica bring food.”

The maiden emerged from the shadows, holding three boar legs and noisily biting down.

Rick snatched pieces, not exactly having much of an appetite. “How do the people of the city smell?”

The feline pondered this for a second. “Hungry, angry, weak.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

The Lord might have been a cunt, but it didn’t seem like he’d been enough of one to alienate most of the city. Rick didn’t blame them, the kingdom held beliefs in the sanctity of blood, nobility were special, protectors, beacons for the community. A symbol.

A celebration and some pretty sounds and lights would not convince the city the situation had changed. To them, he might as well just be the new tyrant. Just one that happens to be giving them food.

Worse, he was an unknown. An outsider.

Someone that clearly didn’t align with their beliefs or traditions.

Rick lounged there, enjoying the breeze, and mulling over the great many things that needed to be done. The previous tenant hadn’t been kind to the place and there were things that needed to be fixed, improvements to be made, and responsibilities to throw at whoever might fulfill them.

Looking at everything from above, he couldn’t help but feel surrounded. This fort-like tower was at the very center of the city, a place with nowhere to run.

His thoughts were interrupted when Monica wrapped him into a hug from behind. She said nothing, mewling softly into his ear and rubbing her cheek against his head. The bond glowed with the comfort and safety.

“Rest.”

It was half a question, half an order, and half something else. Whatever the case, he couldn’t find the energy to refuse. “Not here.” He declared.

Monica obliged, taking him through the shadows, emerging away from the party, taking him to an isolated building not too far off. Far enough that it might be easily protected. “Monica tell others.” She promised, taking him inside, and leading the way to the main bedroom. It was stuffy, and small, but far more reassuring than the darkness of the room in the fortress.

She left him there for only a minute, and it didn’t take long before Dia was there as well. The Rapha didn’t ask questions, merely helped him undress and soothed him into the bed, the two maidens lulling him to sleep, never letting go, as if trying to will themselves to enter his dreams.

He woke the next day, late, on an empty bed, and the sound of knocking at the door.

“I brought food.” Kiara declared, raising the small wicker basket, plucking a grape from the wooden plate and popping it into her mouth.

“Welcome in.” Rick frowned, stepping side and closing the door behind her as they made their way to the only table inside the abandoned house. “Can you even eat normal food? I never saw you eat anything solid while we traveled.”

“Though I can survive without it, I enjoy a bite from time to time,” she spoke leisurely. “I’m mostly testing for poisons.” Her lips curled up at his startled look. “Killing the new Lord before they set roots is the standard of the game. Can’t be too careful.”

“I’m not a Lord.”

“You will find most of the city agrees with you.” She replied with a smile. “It’s why I’ll be sticking around you if neither of the two brutes are available.”

He made a face. “Fine.” He sat down. “Monica?”

“Your cat caught a feral near the area, and has been hunting for others that might have snuck through.”

“Fucking how?” He threw his hands up in annoyance. “The wall has a massive fuck-off reverse porcupine at the top.”

Kiara shrugged. “The farm was also attacked, but nothing the muscle couldn’t handle. Current priority is to expand it as fast as possible and pluck some of that political sway the fishmongers might hold.”

“Seems you’ve got it all hashed out.” He leaned back into his chair. “Am I even needed here?”

The Succubus tossed one grape, smacking his forehead, making him wince. “Do not think of yourself as useless, little human. Yours is the task that carries a burden no Orc can lift.”

He rubbed at it, picking up the fruit. “Go figure.” He muttered. “As soon as the obvious decision of moving forward isn’t as clear…”

“Exactly.” She dug her nail into the table, carving out a circle on the wood.

Rick paid no mind to the vandalization of the piece of slightly rotten furniture, quietly chewing on the dried fruit. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

Kiara’s hands clenched shut, leaving deep gouges in the wood. “Something like that.” She had replaced the leisure tone with wary apprehension, masked behind a neutral expression. She inspected his expression, loosening up after a second, and returning to destroy the table with her nails with the same ease anyone else would if they were wielding knives. “This was part of our original deal, did you forget? Or are you reconsidering?”

“No, not reconsidering. Just… curious.” He muttered. “It just feels like all of this is more than just wanting to be bonded to me.”

“Only a fool would have believed it was merely for the bond.” She conceded after a second. “But it’s not like what I seek is something physical. It can’t be made or taken. Only found and nourished.” Her golden eyes glimmered, lips curled with that edge of… greed.

“The only other time I’ve ever seen that look was when my ex was looking at jewelry.”

“A jewel fit for a crown.” With a soft laugh, she tapped the table twice, boring holes into the wood each time. “Now, it is time to think, little lord. What is the greatest weakness to your goal?”

Rick leaned back against his chair. “Are you going to give me a lecture if I fail the test?” She just smiled, so he continued. “The greatest weakness is that I want to be left the fuck alone, and that I want everything else to just go smoothly. That means that the greatest weakness is everyone outside the city who wants a piece of me.”

“Mhm.” Kiara didn’t seem to answer, claw dragging along the wooden surface, chipping away. “And what about me?”

“What about you?”

“I’m not an outsider, yet here I am… destroying your table.” She smirked, sinking her sharp nails further into the wood. And with a snap, it broke, shattering, spilling the fruit all over. “Whoops.”

Rick sighed. “You’re saying that a house is only as strong as its foundations.”

“I was just commenting on the sturdiness of the table.” She innocently batted her eyelashes at him, the smugness oozing out of her.

With a flat look, he picked up the fruit and stood. “So what’s eating at this city’s ‘table’?”

“Order. Or the lack of it. Murder, theft, robberies, and the tiny little Lords that think they are owed parts of the city’s gold. The mines, the fishermen, the woodworkers. It’s not a situation that could be solved with the… bluntness the tribe offers.” She made a gesture to the window as if to make a point. Rick glanced and found one of the ‘guards’ playing some dice with another. “A subtle or disciplined bunch they are not.”

“I don’t think there would be an easy way to get them to behave, either.” Rick admitted. “What do you propose?”

“There are some knights left in the city, all supporters of the old man. They might prove useful to prepare a proper militia and policing force. And we can look for new Hunters once this rush relents.” She twirled her fingers. “That said… I’m sure none would contest if you declared them your porper-”

“No.” He cut her off with a snap.

Kiara paused. “That will weaken your position.”

“Then we’ll have to compensate.” He replied. “If I have to shove a bond down a maiden’s throat so they don’t kill me, I might as well just jump out the window and save them the time to plot something.”

With a wide smirk, Kiara plucked up an apple, slicing it with her nails, handing him one half while she bit down on the other. “Exactly so.” She licked her succulent red lips, golden eyes flashing slightly. “I might have an idea or two, to get you something more subtle than the Orcs, but we need something to increase your legitimacy in the people’s eyes.”

Which would make it easier to lock him into the position, Rick hid the grimace, looking out the window and trying to decide whether this was another hole he wanted to dig himself into. “Got any ideas?”

“The Lord had a third cousin working for him as a judge’s scribe. He was married to a maiden called Arietta. The mortal is dead as often mortals do, but I’ve heard the maiden is alive. Currently owned by the man who runs the mines.”

That sounded like a giant headache. “It can wait, then.” He declared, standing up and heading for the door.

The sun was shining; the day was fresh, and the eastern breeze only had a minor hint of sulfur. Rick greeted the Orc guards, took ten steps, and stopped. He looked around, then frowned.

“You’re lost, aren’t you?” Kiara grinned.

The Orc guards chuckled.

“I’m going to go to the fortress, someone send a message to Whitneye and Eva to come over.”

Kiara quirked an eyebrow. “What do you plan to do?”

“I want to know how that place generates electricity.” He gestured at the surrounding houses. “Especially when there are no lightbulbs anywhere except inside the fort. And…”

“And?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something that struck me as odd when I was thinking about it.” It was slightly unnerving, looking at the fang that was the fortress. “Out of all the places he could’ve holed in, he did so in the one spot where he didn’t have an easy way out.”

“Warriors don’t run away.”

“And smart warriors don’t let themselves be easily surrounded.” Rick replied at the Orc.

Time to dig into some of the former Lord’s secrets.