Alchimia Rex

"Halt! Who goes there?"

Upon being asked the question, Dia stood as proudly as she could, making sure she held the stick tipped with white cloth signifying peaceful intent alongside the purple cloth to signify the 'house' they belonged to. "I am Dia of Cross, and I am accompanied by Monica of Cross, also known as Whiteclaw. We are a Rapha and a Sabertooth. Captain Deneva knows of us."

There was a little bit of satisfaction from seeing the two knights physically twitch. Their visors turned from one side to the other, looking for Monica but not finding her. "Stay where you are and wait for confirmation," the taller of the two proclaimed, power walking away from the scene with the nervousness of someone expecting to be attacked on the way out.

The silence that followed was a tense one, the remaining knight trying to pretend that they weren't looking at every shadow within the forest and failing. Dia could understand her nervousness; Monica had hidden her presence well enough she doubted anyone could spot her. But as amusing as the knight’s awkwardness was, her own gut was a knot. She’d used a spell to soothe the feeling a while ago, but dared not do another lest it make things too obvious.

"Remove your helmet."

The voice made Dia jump a little. The source had not emerged near the knight but further to her right. Captain Deneva stepped into view in her full armored glory, holding her helm under one arm and a short sword in the other. The maiden looked like she’d just emerged from a bath, her emerald hair primly combed into a short ponytail, silver eyes swelling with power and control.

It was the exact kind of visage Dia would’ve imagined the perfect warrior to look like, cool, composed, and pristine no matter the situation. Just a year ago she would’ve pretended to be in the presence of a royal knight, let alone a captain. Now she hated how easy the Swordmistress made it look.

"And know that you are in the presence of Deneva Lightedge, Swordmistress and Royal Knight Captain of Earl Tylen the Magnanimous, of house Vittchat."

The proclamation came with a boom of power, an invisible roar that exploded out from her, hammering against Dia like an avalanche. Dia’s legs trembled as she fought to remain upright on her own two feet, hands shaking as she pulled her helmet off.

Their gazes met, and she held it for a full second before lowering her focus to the Swordmistress’ chin. She locked her legs in place so that she could remain firmly in place, drawing in a sharp breath.

"I come in representation of temporary Lord Rick Cross; he desires to parlay."

Deneva’s gaze narrowed. "Rick Cross is no Lord of this kingdom. On whose authority does he claim such a title?"

Dia squared her shoulders. "He is overseeing Sinco’s safety at the moment."

The words were bile in her tongue, wrong on every level, but these were the orders she’d been given, and this was the role she was to fulfill. Rick had made it clear his position held no official backing, and they should act in exactly that way. All of it to remove potential room for accusations or misunderstandings.

Slowly the tide of power began to recede, and Dia let out a barely audible sigh.

"What is the cause for your presence here?" Deneva asked. "And why do you bring an Orc scouting party with you?"

Dia flinched at the second question, she’d thought the Orcs and Urtha were back far enough to remain undetected, but it seemed Deneva’s senses were as sharp as her sword. A sword she’d yet to sheathe.

"Temporary Lord Rick unified the Orcish tribals in the southern region of the kingdom, and through his leadership, they defeated the feral rush that threatened to overwhelm Sinco's defenses." Truths, but not all the truth. Dia could not speak freely, especially of the weapons Rick had created. But there were many other things she needed to be careful of. "We learned the attack had a leader, that she’d used parasitic plants to make the ferals incredibly aggressive. He brought his forces here in search of finishing her before she could gather strength once more."

Deneva’s grip on her sword tightened. “And Lord Thorley of House Darkton? Where is he now, and how come he is not fulfilling his duties?”

Dia swallowed. “Under the supervision of a truth detection spell, Lord Thorley confessed to conspiring with the Vampire Lords.”

“A plot Rick just happened to find out about when approaching Sinco with a minor warband of Orcs under his command.”

The silence grew stiff, and the knight guard lowered her hand to the pommel of her blade while Deneva did not move a hair. Dia knew she posed no threat, nor would she be able to react were an attack to occur. The only chance of protection against violence was Monica… wherever the feline was.

What did that leave her with?

Sucking in breath, she stepped closer to Deneva, though just barely to keep herself at a polite and well-intended six meters of separation. Neither truly needed to be closer to the other, and though Dia stood at a significant disadvantage even with the space between them, to increase it would only signal reluctance to engage in conversation.

“The Vampires had taken control of the Orc tribes, and we fought them off. We took to Sinco under the hopes that they would welcome us, seeing how their military might had been greatly diminished under the feral onslaught.”

Deneva’s perfect brows lowered. “How… convenient. I take it you will not answer if I asked what ‘temporary’ Lord Rick’s intentions are with the city?”

“It is not my place to assume his goals,” she bowed her head a little, feeling mild satisfaction at a more proper return to the sort of conversation she could handle.

The relief furthered when Deneva sheathed her blade.

“You and… Whiteclaw… are allowed the protections of a parlay.”

It went unsaid that this did not mean she’d granted Dia’s request, only that they could now properly sit down and talk. The Swordmistress promptly turned around to head further in, implying Dia to follow.

Monica was somewhere, she hoped, but the feline was not making herself visible, which was fine. Remaining impossible to see and hidden was better than starting a fight. Dia could only hope the feline wasn’t plotting anything.

Passing the first perimeter, it became clear the knights had not been sitting idly. Defensive structures had been raised all around the monstrous tree that was the “palace.” The tree itself appeared impervious to even attempting drilling, to which the response had been to create simple barricades composed of sharpened logs. The whole thing was clearly meant to slow down a potential charge from those within.

There were also subtler signs of construction; metal wire appeared to be present on every walkable surface leading to or coming out of the tree. Dia recognized them as simple enchanted detection devices, ones that would ring if any maiden came close.

The knights had no intention to allow someone to sneak out of the “palace,” and were taking no risks.

Further away from the tree were other maidens tirelessly working. Centaurs for the most part, scouring various edifices and dumping whatever they found into piles so that they could be processed and checked over.

They couldn’t have gotten here more than two days prior. The scale of the operation didn’t appear small by any measure. Dia had only ever heard of war-parties and platoons, but this was the first time she’d seen one outside the city.

It appeared the Earl had chosen to make a serious push into the forest.

Dia wondered how it had been made possible. Surely they hadn’t spent all these resources on blind luck.

Whatever the case was, she had to focus on the negotiations ahead.

Leading the way into a surprisingly humble cloth tent, Deneva was greeted by several maidens dressed in light leather armor, a stark contrast to the pale blue murisium armor the knights wore. Pages, or closer to combat-capable apprentices until they earned their knighthood. They happened to be the most frequent visitors to the medicen back when Dia worked in Balet.

Deneva dismissed them with a gesture and proceeded to cast three spells within the span of as many seconds. The movements had been swift and precise, the speed catching Dia off guard. She’d barely recognized two of the spells meant for privacy, and had to assume the third one was as well, seeing how the captain had not bothered to hide her impressive skill.

Her host sat down on one of the only two available chairs. Hers was a simple wooden stool, devoid of decorations or embellishments. Meanwhile, Dia’s only option was something more “proper” for a diplomat, a seat carved with the shapes of flowers of various shapes and sizes.

Dia might have mistaken the move as a sign of humility, but she’d seen Rick do the exact same thing more than once. In the hands of her human, it was a sign that he did not see himself above anyone, and that his power came from those that followed his leadership. In the hands of Deneva, it was a sign that her station and power merited a smaller chair if only to make things “fairer” in the exchange.

“We found that amongst the belongings of the wildlings,” the captain proclaimed without fanfare, her gaze turning to a seemingly empty corner of the tent. After a moment staring, she returned her attention to Dia. “What is your purpose here, Dia of Cross?”

She straightened her back and raised her chin slightly. “Our primary wish is to ensure the death of the one responsible for the attack on Sinco. A Pinielf.”

“I see,” the captain stated plainly. “Why should we allow you to aid us?”

The question presented an uncomfortable truth: that indeed it did not appear as if they had any need for the Orcs. By the looks of it, the palace was entirely surrounded, and it would only be a matter of time before they got inside. If Dia were in charge of this operation, she would’ve turned herself away without a second thought. The Orcs were an unknown factor, and taking their help would present risks.

“We suspect this is not the only base of operations the wildlings possess. According to a prisoner we caught, there is also an Elven grove further in. This might prove-”

“An Elven Grove,” Deneva cut her off, her voice sharp, speaking as if Dia had just insinuated an insult of some sort. “And why would this Pinielf seek refuge there? Sleeping Elves, if any are to be found there, they cannot pose a threat to anyone.”

Dia bit her lip. This was one of the topics Rick had not taken a hard stance on. It was within her discretion to reveal further details, but would they prove useful? Information was the only advantage she held in this exchange, and there was very little of it.

“The Pinielf had been a High Elf, awakened by the wildlings at some point late last spring.”

Her own words sounded preposterous; Dia still had a hard time believing them. Elves going feral was a deathmark, an endless deep sleep they could not be woken from. But the otherworlders had changed that.

She hoped that the truth-spell Deneva was undoubtedly using would provide enough weight to the claim. Yet the maiden across from her didn’t react, not openly. The only sign anything had changed was how still she’d become, as if she’d been frozen in time, eyes locked on a point in the infinite, far away and invisible to everyone else.

“Reiterate that statement, elaborate.”

Dia shivered at the lack of inflection in Deneva’s words. There were no emotions, nothing save a sharp steel. It was akin to witnessing an unsheathed blade; there was no need to have the weapon pointed at her to know how dangerous it was.

“They awakened a feral High Elf, and she ascended into a Pinielf by her own hand soon after. She had knowledge of how to do it and acquired the resources from the palace you now besiege.” Dia leaned forward, elbows resting against her knees. “According to our prisoner, the maiden in question had been asleep since before our kingdom was founded, from a time this land was under the control of the ‘Green Empire’.”

She emphasized her words to push forward that she still saw this kingdom as her home, a gesture that earned the most imperceptible of nods from Deneva. The maiden shifted slightly in her armor, appearing to seek some minor comfort. “Any proof or merely their assumption?”

Dia nodded. “She taught them how to awaken the palace’s defenses, or at least whatever is currently allowing them to block entry.” Drawing breath, she made a gesture outside. “According to her statement, the palace has a limited amount of energy, and the defenses themselves aren’t at their full capacity as age has eroded them greatly. With any luck, there might be gaps, ones that would make penetrating the palace a shorter endeavor.”

That earned further approval; Deneva made a gesture towards the tent’s entrance, and a maiden fully decked in knight armor hurriedly stepped inside. “I’d like to begin another full sweep of the tree’s protective wards. See if anything has changed since the first time, note if any spot appears anomalous.”

“Yes, captain!” The maiden saluted and promptly left.

Deneva’s gaze shifted to the empty corner from earlier, lingering half a second and then focusing back on Dia. “After your departure from Balet, we discovered the corpse of the Vampire that attacked you. Unfortunately, the Sabertooth got away.” She leaned back slightly. “The Earl could not discover any ties leading to nobility within the kingdom, most likely they were operating under the command of the tribes to the southwest of our kingdom.”

This had to be some sort of peace offering, perhaps a soft trade for the bit of information Dia had just provided. She appreciated the gesture but couldn’t freely speak on the matter. Rick had made a strong point that there had been someone within the kingdom providing aid to the Vampires’ attempt to overtake Sinco. A ploy that could very well include deep connection to the wildlings the knights were currently attacking.

For all Rick knew, the Earl himself could be that person, and this raid was an attempt to erase any chances of being discovered. There was just no way to be certain currently. Even if Deneva claimed to the contrary under a truth spell, there was the chance that she was just not made privy to everything the Earl did.

She doubted it was the case, but there were just too many variables to consider.

“We appreciate the effort Earl Vittchat has put forward,” Dia said instead.

“The blood-reader the Earl hired to investigate did discover something concerning, however.”

Where was this coming from? A blood-reader was any maiden with the capacity to read the past of someone else. These were rare and expensive if what she’d heard held any truth. Then again, the rumors also claimed a blood-reader could peer into the past of anyone living or dead so long as they touched anything belonging to you.

“I am unsure of a blood-reader’s capabilities; I have never met one. There are many tall tales of what they can do, however,” Dia said.

“Seeing how she found the Vampire’s life had ended at the hands of a Succubus, I would at least hope for some awareness on this matter.”

Deneva didn’t smile, but the trap was clearly there for Dia to step into. Her mind rushed through the last time they’d met. Had Kiara’s nature been revealed at the time? It felt like such a long time ago that she wasn’t entirely sure anymore, only that Deneva’s orders had trapped her into engaging the wildling Sabertooth.

Thinking quickly, she pushed back. “I take it this would be the same maiden that was present during our last encounter?”

"When in doubt and under a truth spell, asking a question was the easiest way to deflect. It was not a statement of fact, thus it could not be a falsehood."

The captain’s posture tensed ever so slightly. “There were other reports verifying the presence of a charmer within the kingdom. She’d infiltrated the kingdom through Astunes, just shortly after you’d left.” Despite her impassive face, her gaze was cold. “We found the human she’d been bonded to during her trip to Balet.”

Dia’s heart skipped. “I take it he was aptly punished?”

“He took his own life before we could interrogate him. Had he been found to be a willing conspirator, the sentence would’ve been to hang.” She allowed the words to hang like a blade over Dia’s head. “Yet if he’d been coerced, then he would’ve walked free.”

Neither moved, staring each other down, silently measuring the other. Dia could feel cold sweat running down her back. Her bond screamed at her to confess, to claim Rick was no conspirator, that the Succubus had pushed him into a corner. It was true even if in a twisted way, but the bond didn’t care, it would cheat and lie and kill if it was the only way to save Rick’s life.

“I see,” was all she said instead.

The following silence was only possible because it was the other way to ensure her human’s survival, even if at the risk of discovery.

Her counterpart broke the silence. “We could not find any tracks left, nor a body, after Balet. It was as if the charmer vanished into thin air. Needless to say, the Earl was very much alarmed by this. A charmer poses a major threat to any kingdom.” She leaned forward. “The King himself has agreed to the seriousness of this threat and has quietly assured that a noble title would be a… fitting reward for anyone responsible for the capture of such a monster.”

“B-but public-”

“The statement cannot be made public, of course.” Deneva cut her off. “If the charmer is currently merely hiding, a public outcry would push them into further caution. Besides, a noble title is a tempting enough reward that many would harm strangers if only for a chance at grasping such a prize.”

Dia nodded, swallowing hard, mentally clutching at the truth-detection pendant the constable had so graciously loaned to Rick.

A title of nobility. A real title, granted by the King himself. Not something claimed through force and as flimsy as the support of a wildling tribe of Orcs. Her breath was tight against her throat.

This was it, she knew, and the Swordmistress knew it too, they were aware that this was everything Dia could’ve wanted for Rick. It was everything any maiden could ever want for her human.

To be rid of Kiara and earn a real noble title in one fell swoop.

It would set them up comfortably until they grew old and wrinkled.

It would be perfect.

“I-I doubt that even if I knew anything, there could be something done by reporting it to you.” She stated. “After all, there are humans here who’d take the glory, we’re but maidens, we could not be able to stop some noble, a-and…”

“There are no nobles here. The operation is too delicate for that.” Deneva spoke with a soft reassuring discipline, the same tone a mentor would use when urging a student to learn. “The Earl saw it fit to keep things discreet; it would not do to divulge that wildlings took not one but two otherworlders.”

Dia nodded quickly.

Deneva proceeded. “To us, our priority is the retrieval of Miss May Brown and Mister Barry Dodson. After that, our orders are to ensure their safe return without any… fuss.” She leaned closer. “I do not see why an otherworlder such as Mister Rick could not take the accolades of the eradication of the charmer. The Earl had been seeking an excuse to elevate such a capable man into a title of his own after all.”

What went unsaid was that even Rick would not need to know. A maiden’s secret, a deal struck between equals that would never reach human ears. Dia could see the lingering certainty, and the path ahead, but perhaps Monica… she glanced at the shadow in the corner of the-

“Whiteclaw is not there,” Deneva said. “She left a few minutes ago, though I cannot fathom why. Perhaps she grew bored. Whatever the case, your privacy is assured.”

The Rapha closed her eyes, clenching her hands into fists.

She only needed to say yes.

An odd wave of relief washed over her. Dia gasped at the suddenness and briefness of its presence. It lasted for a split second, but the source had been clear enough: the bond. Her eyes snapped in the direction, in the exact direction she knew would lead her to Rick. Had he managed to reach out despite the distance? Or had he gotten closer? She couldn’t tell; the link that allowed the feat had gone quiet once more.

“Something wrong?”

Deneva asked, peeking in the same direction Dia had.

“No, it’s… nothing wrong.” She answered, taking a deep breath and addressing her fellow. “I am sorry, Captain Deneva, but this topic would be outside what is required of me. You will need to speak to Lord Rick about this matter.” She squared herself once more. “That is, if you grant him parley.”

Something in the Swordmistress shifted, a tiny bit of warmth seeping into her words. “A maiden must do as she is bidden.” It was a simple statement, and perhaps it’d been Dia’s imagination, but she could’ve sworn she saw relief in Deneva’s eyes. “Is there anything else about the palace defenses your prisoner might know of?”

“I am uncertain. If there was more, I was not made privy to that information,” Dia shook her head earnestly, letting out a tiny sigh, wanting nothing but to slump into her armor and stay out of sight for the next few days. She eyed the maiden for a moment. “Who is Miss May Brown? I remember hearing the name before, but not where.”

“You should have. She is one of Mister Rick’s former students.”

Dia jolted a little at that, eyes widening. “Our prisoner claimed the Pinielf is experimenting on her,” she declared without a second of wait. Of course, she should’ve known. Embla had informed that there was a second pureblooded human, but that she’d known very little on the matter since it’d been handled by the Warlock.

“I see.” She stood up. “Then I believe it will be apt to accept your Lord’s parley. We might see the need to get aid from those Orcs after all.”

Standing with a little enthusiasm herself, she reached out to offer a hand to shake. The smile was honest. “This has been a fruitful meeting, and I am thankful for your open-mindedness in this matter.”

The moment their hands clasped, Deneva’s grip turned into a bone-crushing vice. The protection of the armored glove proved enough to keep the grip from being painful. In that moment, the Swordmistress stepped closer, looking down into her eyes with the coldness of steel. “Tell me, who does Mister Rick serve?”

She didn’t flinch. “No one.” She would’ve preferred if it had hurt. It was that uncaring icy apathy that made her feel like she should run at the first opportunity. “He serves no one.”

“Then how does he control an Orc tribe?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “How did he come to rule a city?”

“By making his enemies regret pointing their claws at him.” Dia hissed back, bravely stepping towards the Swordmistress rather than away, leaning close enough she could feel Deneva’s breath against her skin.

And then licking the Swordmistress’ nose.

Deneva was startled, pulling back and letting go, one hand on the pommel of her blade while the other cleaned the spittle from her nose.

“He’s done so through doing things none expected from him.” With a firm nod, she turned towards the tent entrance. “I will inform my Lord that his request to parlay has been agreed to.”

It took considerable effort to not just run out of there; her heart was beating so hard, and she was drenched in sweat. Walking stiffly, Dia counted the number of times she should’ve been killed over such a stunt. With her heart thundering at a gallop inside the metal confines of her armor, she reeked of panic and fear, every part of her practically shaking uncontrollably.

If this was what Rick felt every time he pulled a stunt, then it was a miracle his hair had not turned white from stress by now.

“Now, where is Monica!?” she hissed under her breath, immediately spotting the feline emerging from some other tent.

She was carrying a bag, keeping it held aloft high into the air, well away from the reach of the two knights that were currently trying to snag it out of her claw but kept being tripped by her tail.

Monica’s grin could not have been larger. “Found chocolate!”

Dia swore.