Alchimia Rex

Rick woke up surrounded by moss and lichen. It was a small crevice he immediately struggled to escape from; the soft bedding gave way to bark, and he was forced to claw his way toward the only source of light. There was a desperation pushing him forward, a claustrophobic panic he couldn’t properly comprehend but had no reason to oppose, until he broke free.

Drawing fresh air into his lungs with half of his body emerging out of the hole, he looked around in a desperate attempt to make sense of what was going on. He was somewhere near the foot of one of the mutated trees, having been constrained within one of its stadium-width roots. No, he quickly realized, as he stared over the edge and to an impossible drop of hundreds of meters, he was on a branch, not a root.

Unlike the other titan-trees, this tree’s central trunk immediately split into dozens of thinner “trunks” that grew in a radial pattern arrayed like a flower. Each of these trunks had their own branches, connecting to each other and to the nearby titan-trees to create a three-dimensional web of paths moving up and down.

He was an ant. There was no other way to conceptualize what he was looking at. He was an ant upon a tree; he could spend his whole lifetime trying to chop down just one of the branches and die of old age before having made a significant dent.

“This is the Empress’ own personal creation, a variant of the titan-tree she planted shortly before entering her slumber.”

Rick didn’t turn to look at the owner of the voice; his brows furrowed in recognition. “Sivent,” he stated under his breath, a half-growl that made his blood boil. “This is the part where you put a knife to my throat and use my life as a bargaining chip, right?”

“You’ve proven to be a resourceful obstacle,” the words came out with amusement. “I will admit to some personal satisfaction. You and your companions have proven to be more competent and stubborn than I’d expected.”

He found a sick sense of humor in her choice of words. Not once had the people he’d gone up against called the maidens at his side “companions;” it was always some degree of implied superiority in some part of the equation. Never equals.

“And you think you’ve won.”

“No, I have not won,” her voice became cold. “But the Empress’ awakening is within our reach.”

Rick gritted his teeth hard enough his molars cried out, keeping his eyes firmly on the faraway branches. “And what part did you expect me to fill?”

“You guessed it well enough. The Succubus was uncooperative, and your presence here guarantees her aid,” she paused. “Now follow along.”

“And if I don’t?” He finally turned to face her; the Pinielf was dressed in a white shirt and pants with something wriggling underneath.

“Please, resist,” Sivent stepped closer. The cloth covering her face trembled, her voice carrying a breathless anticipation. “Let us discover together what I will do to you.”

Suppressing the urge to shudder too obviously, Rick stepped out of the hole he’d been in and began to trail after her, following the slight upward incline toward the center of the massive tree.

After only a minute or so of silence, Sivent paused at a hole in the bark that had been much like the one Rick exited a moment ago. The Pinielf stared into it for a moment before glancing at him. He spared a glance to confirm what was in there and paused.

Within the hole was a sleeping woman with sharp ears and long, green hair. An Elf. The lone figure on its own wasn’t very surprising; what caught Rick’s attention were the hundreds, if not thousands, of similar holes he could vaguely spot throughout this branch alone.

“There were dozens of places like this one, each set up to house and protect the best and brightest, all so that we could weather the Fall and rise to a new Spring,” Sivent continued on her way upward. “But things didn't go as planned. Our slumber stretched for so long that now most of those you see here are not even of the Empire, but Elves that were drawn to the Empress’ glory when the feral curse began taking over their minds.”

Rick didn’t say anything, wanting nothing more than to look for an opportunity to shove her off the branch so that she’d fall to her death. It was a fantasy; there was little doubt she’d have ways to survive such a thing, and she was a maiden; he wouldn’t ever be able to catch her by surprise.

“If any of the others have awakened, then they were eradicated.”

“Good,” he declared dryly.

Sivent snapped to look at him. “You come from another world, no doubt one with a great deal of difference from this one. Do you not also hold the desire to eradicate from this world that which you disagree with?” He could almost feel her stare fixed on him through the cloth. “Enslavement of maidens, prevalence of ignorance, back-water customs and technologies that are glaringly harmful to any with a shred of common sense… things the world would be best without.”

“I’m not about to hear about common sense from you,” his fists clenched.

“Is this an attempted insult as an inventor or as an individual?” she asked with some degree of apparent amusement. “Will you decry that my creations were better than yours in harming someone close to you, or will you criticize the design?” Sivent visibly shuddered. “As a fellow creator, I can openly laud you for the explosives you made. Truly the epitome of utility. Their simplicity makes it useful in a near-infinite number of scenarios. It is one of my shortcomings, if only my babies were as adaptable, then things would’ve been far different.” The maiden, if she truly was that, continued her way upwards. “But such is the process of invention; the work is never done. These are lessons I will apply to the next iteration if it is a project the Empress wishes me to continue following.”

Rick stared at her coldly, glaring holes at the cloth covering her head. “One way or the other, at the end of this, you will be dead.”

“If it is the price to pay for the Empress’s awakening, then so be it.”

She was a zealot; there was nothing he’d be able to say or do that would turn her from her path. The only relief to be found was that Rick couldn’t find even a shred of sympathy for the maiden, not even a mild desire for connection. It was a strange but if reassuring, thought, seeing how he’d actually been able to form a bond with one of the Gold Elves.

A bond that wasn’t there now that he sought it out.

With the silence that followed, Rick had the opportunity to focus on that aspect of things. Kiara’s bond was the closest one, but he could also sense some mild movement from Monica and Dia’s. There was a distinct impression that the Sabertooth was headed his way, even if she wasn’t anywhere nearby just yet.

That presented a big problem. The bond’s nature coerced the maiden to do anything to ensure their human lives. It was a massive problem if the maiden couldn’t break the bond to ensure they thought with a clear head. The Golden Elf had done something to undo the bond, and Rick was certain it had been to ensure he couldn’t use its nature to his advantage.

It was a trump card that Monica, Kiara, and the others didn’t have. So long as he remained bonded to the others, they could even be forced to fight against anyone if someone put a knife to Rick’s throat.

So long as he remained a disposable hostage…

As they approached the center of the tree, the area where all the bigger branches emerged from, the duo was forced to walk around several of these massive columns of wood and bark. The concentration of “holes” also increased the closer they got to the center. Rick felt like he was being closely watched, and even though he couldn’t spot anyone, he had the distinct impression that he was one bad move away from getting his brains turned into confetti.

They quietly moved closer, the air becoming charged with power, tingling against his skin. Rick felt a mild wave of nausea pass through him as they stepped into the very heart of this city-sized piece of vegetation.

There, at the very center, was a figure wreathed in green and white flowers. Her details hidden under the flora, but there was no mistaking this one maiden was where the power of the tree converged. Everything around them went to and came from that lone figure, regal and pale and so perfectly still that she was something between dead and asleep.

Standing next to the figure was something that might have once resembled a Warlock. The old crone was now a sickening amalgamation of half-rotten blackened vines and flesh, her own head entirely missing, replaced by a mass of knotted bark. The creature, for she could no longer be called a maiden, glowed and pulsed with green and purple power, the energy converging on her body and transmitted down to the tree bark.

Getting closer, Rick noticed the energy the Warlock-thing was releasing drew out a massive pattern spanning at least two hundred meters, discreet in that each individual line was barely a hair in width, but impossibly complex.

At the feet of the Warlock were two figures.

The first could only be Kiara, her electric blue hair and horns easily recognizable even when she was kneeling with her back turned towards him. The Succubus was hunched over the second figure, a young woman with sickly green skin.

May.

“I failed,” Kiara spoke under her breath before he could say anything.

The bond was locked tight; she was keeping it that way, blocking him from any potential insight into her condition. But the misery was impossible to miss in her voice.

Rick wanted to get closer, but the Pinielf made a casual gesture to block him. “If either of you gets within five meters of one another, then you will both have your legs removed. Two meters and it will be your arms. Any closer and the human will be executed on the spot.” She spoke with a harsh coldness, tempered anger steeled by unwavering determination. “The same will happen if you do not do as you originally agreed to do.”

Kiara weakly nodded, not even turning to look at either of them. “The girl will die even if this works; it’s too much.”

“That is not of your concern,” Sivent declared. “Just do as you ought to, and he gets to live.”

Thinking fast, Rick stepped forward. “Is there a way for me to participate?”

Only the crackling of the Warlock’s power could be heard, Kiara having turned her head to fix her gaze on him. “No,” she called out harshly.

The Pinielf also shook her head. “It is not-”

Rick raised his eyes to the branches overhead. “Would it not be better to use a willing human adult? Or do you want to take the risk of half-assing it?” The question had not been aimed at either of the maidens but at the observers that held the metaphorical guns in the room.

This time the silence stretched on, neither Kiara nor Sivent saying a word. Both of them were focused on him, but it was hard to imagine they weren’t trying to figure out what their silent audience would respond.

A masked figure emerged from behind one of the trunks. “Use him as well,” she ordered Sivent.

“I have a condition,” Rick hastily declared. “I will help, but only if you promise not to kill anyone I am bonded to. I don’t expect it would help with this for me to get the blowback.”

Realization seemed to dawn on the Pinielf, the maiden moving towards him. “You can’t—!”

“Only until the Empress awakens or you fail.” With a nod, the figure walked behind the branch once more, vanishing from sight.

Rick’s mind raced, turning to look at Kiara and giving her as significant a nod as he could. She stared at him with a mix of fury and concern, one that flared out when Sivent lashed out at Rick. The strike knocked him straight on his ass, the side of his face burned, and stars swam across his gaze.

“I will not let you ruin my plans again,” she hissed, stepping closer. “I—”

An arrow embedded itself into the wood between them.

Their audience had spoken.

Sivent’s whole body wriggled and spasmed as if forgetting it was meant to keep a humanoid shape. Rick couldn’t see the eyes behind the cloth, but the burning glare as her body trembled was impossible to miss.

“Fuck you.” It took him a moment to regain his balance and stand back up on his own two feet. The side of his head was throbbing massively, and the world was spinning a little, but he made his way towards the Warlock.

Kiara quietly shot him a long look that held too many emotions for him to properly unravel.

“Less than a day, more than a few hours.” It was how long he estimated Monica and the others would take to reach them.

Rick just needed to make sure he remained indispensable until the fight concluded.