Alchimia Rex

“This stinks.” Urtha pinched her nose as they walked around the area. “Smells like that time everyone clogged up on meat and started-”

“Yes, farts.” Rick shook his head. “The smell is sulfur, which is what I was looking for.”

The lake before him was a mix between electric blue and yellow, steam slowly rising into the air. The heat in the area was enough there was barely any snow on the ground, having completely melted. Rick had insisted they keep to the high-ground relative to the lakes and upwind, just in case the area had some concentration of anything dangerous in the air.

The last thing anyone needed was to suffocate without realizing it until it was too late.

As a matter of fact, Monica had reached her nose’s limit about two hundred meters further back. Rick could feel the feline’s eyes glaring in his general direction, even if she dared not get any closer to the “stinky place.” She’d even been nice enough to scare off any ferals in the area with the tactful use of eardrum-bursting roars.

“Do we really need any of this?” The Orc asked, dipping her foot on the boiling lake as if it was only mildly warm.

“What of gunpowder, my Lord?” Rollo offered, drying his ever-sweaty brow with a handkerchief.

“It’s roughly as powerful as the nitrates I’m already producing, probably slightly less energy dense. Not much worth trying since it’s just a separate process needing more resources.” Rick contemplated as he just watched the various thermal lakes, wondering whether he ought to be concerned there was volcanic activity near the surface. “As far as warfare goes, sulfur’s pretty neat for incendiary devices, smokescreens, and asphyxiating gasses, but all three are… unreliable. One good wind and they’re made useless… or used against us.” He shook his head. “Honestly, most of the reason why I want this is for the sulfuric acid I could make out of it.”

“Whatever would you need sulfuric acid for?” The merchant prompted, beady eyes twinkling with naked greed.

“Just about anything, really.” Rick shrugged. “Think of it like being a chef and suddenly having access to wheat. Overnight the number of recipes you can play with multiplies in size. Same thing here, sulfuric acid has a very broad number of uses.”

The main one he’d likely use it for would be to make the nitric explosives carry more oomph. But once this whole mess was over, he’d switch and start experimenting around properly. He was particularly keen in its utility within the middle-steps for metal extraction, producing dyes, and even making detergents.

“The problem is getting the sulfur out and to Sinco reliably.” The city was almost perfectly south of their current location, roughly a day’s worth of hard march on Orc-back.

Rollo immediately straightened out, smoothing his vest. “It would need to be in supply runs. Protected, of course, to minimize risk.”

He glanced at the merchant and spared the sigh. Rick had been half certain he would’ve sent the psychic, Arietta, but she’d been quite sparse, clearly avoiding him whenever given the opportunity to do so. Or maybe this time around Rollo had just come on over in an attempt to earn brownie points… or intel. Probably both.

Whatever the case, Rick was certain he was out of his depth when it came to… well, being a merchant. “Gather your team and draft something up. It’s getting late, we’ll head back to Sinco tomorrow morning.”

“Certainly, my Lord.” With a deep bow, Rollo turned to leave, shuffling along back towards where they’d made camp.

Rick glanced at the other merchant, Yasir, this one he preferred a lot more over Rollo, but the man had been very quiet over the whole conversation. “Thoughts?”

“I will readily admit Rollo has better experience in resource extraction and transportation than I do.” The man spoke calmly, stroking his thick beard. Kind eyes turned to look at Rick squarely. “I am, however, concerned.”

“In what way?”

“About this upcoming battle.” He spoke gently. “I am well traveled, and I’ve been witness to many a war, and something that concerns me is the prospect of… fear.” Seeing Rick didn’t say anything, he proceeded. “It is not uncommon for a noble of a lower station to successfully recruit powerful maidens. More powerful than the forces a higher noble might wield.”

“Ah.” Urtha nodded. “You’re talking about the wobbly seat.”

“What?”

“Wobbly seat.” She chuckled. “I saw it plenty when I was growing up. Back then there were many tribes in this part of the kingdom, small ones, maybe a dozen maidens each. There was an established hierarchy, and when I started fighting for my tribe, it was like breaking a leg off of a chair. Things got wobbly… until everyone tumbled down and I ended up on top.” She puffed up at that last part, tusks raised proudly.

“Perhaps not the way I would’ve worded it, but yes.” Yasir turned to Rick. “I’ve seen enough of the wonders you’ve made to know what you’ve brought will cause a storm. Many a noble might reach the conclusion that you are a threat to their status.”

Rick sighed at that and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll need to… think how to approach this once the Darkton situation concludes.”

Urtha chortled. “Calling a war a ‘situation’ just sucks the fun out of this.”

He held back from commenting how war wasn’t a game, or fun, but he knew it would be an argument he wouldn’t win.

After Camila’s awakening and some of the hints she’d dropped, Rick had started holding more extensive conversations with Kiara, Dia, and Eva about “the nature” of the different maiden breeds. He was no doctor or biologist, but the more they’d talked, the more he felt like there was a physiological aspect to some of the quirks the various maidens presented.

Kind of like how a husky would suffer in the heat and would love the cold.

There was something within Orcs that drove them to fight, a drive not quite as present in Goblins or Hobgoblins. Rick was keenly aware how carefully he needed to tread when going down this path, however. His own world had been ripe with race-based pseudo-science, and even well-intentioned individuals had ended up with their conclusions being utter garbage because of their shitty methodology.

For the time being he’d make extra sure not to set foot too deeply into this riddle, not without someone that had more than a vague notion of psychology.

The problem was that the rift between the tribe and the city was very much still there. Neither side had found much common ground other than “let’s not die.” It was a rift that wasn’t problematic… for now. Rick might not be a history buff, but he knew enough to be keenly aware of how frequently a population would turn towards “the foreigners” when things turned for the worst. The whole purple-cloth thing had been a step to close that gap, but it wasn’t enough.

Hopefully Alice would have some insights she might be able to share, but maybe he was banking too much on the former psychology teacher.

If she got the letter, that is.

“Stupid war.” Rick kicked a rock, watching it tumble and plop into the boiling pool.

Urtha glanced down at him, then at Yasir. “Give us some space, little man.” She instructed, and with a slight bow, the merchant made himself scarce. Urtha waited another minute before hefting Rick off of his feet.

“Hey!”

“You’re worrying too much over the wrong things.” She declared firmly, bridal-carrying him away from the pools, and away from the little ‘scouting party’ they’d brought along into this exploration.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.” She insisted, finding a rock to sit on and placing him on her lap. “I’m going to go do that work for the elf bitch, remember?”

“You’re supposed to also be our envoy.” He muttered.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not much to talk about. I’m just worrying over how to future-proof this mess. There are a lot of cracks that need to be reinforced.” Shaking his head, he sighed, glancing up at the green giant. “But whatever, you’re right, that’s for another time. You’re about to do this whole thing with Camila and it’s going to suck having you away.”

The Orc chuckled, rumbling as she wrapped her iron-tough muscular arms and pulled him closer. “I should be the one complaining and nervous about this, not you.”

“Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes. “You’ll get an all-expenses paid vacation where you’ll get to fight with new people and use your powers until you drop.”

“Without my husband.” Her eyes glimmered meaningfully, and they hugged.

Rick didn’t comment on how the term still felt weird to his ears, this was meant to be reassuring for her after all. So he made sure to give her all the attention available until it was time to leave back to Sinco. While most of the group would head south to the city, Urtha was escorted towards the Elf Queen’s grove.

On their way back, they’d come to pick up Dia, and the nurse had come with a message.

“Mister Dodson wants to talk to you.”

“I’d been wondering if he’d ever take the stab.” Rick glanced at the healer. “Any suggestions?”

“He’s like a caged feral.” She shook her head. “Whatever he went through, it roughed him up into something… dangerous. I honestly don’t like you being in the same room as him, not alone.”

The declaration caught Rick by surprise. He frowned slightly as he mulled over her words. “Kiara roughly guessed that he’d been taken in by some sort of crime boss. Underworld stuff. I can’t imagine he survived there by being nice… or trusting.” The details were sparse, but if they were certain of one thing, it was that the psychic fox Mark was bonded to was quite the piece of work.

A zealot, a maiden that firmly believed human supremacy was necessary and good. Yet seeing herself above most other people, even humans. Kiara had offhandedly mentioned the fox was likely a thresholder, but hadn’t bothered to make more guesses.

“He won’t attack me, Dia,” Rick said, shaking his head. “Mark’s self-interested. He hurts or kills me, and Monica will be on them before they can even step out of there.”

“I still don’t like it.” She fidgeted. “It’s like he’s…”

“I’ll talk to him, and Monica will be right outside.” That seemed to reassure her enough, and after a quick confirmation with everyone else, he approached the bunker.

This was the first time he’d been here, and he took a moment to look it over. Kiara had commissioned this place to be built in secret, and it had all the signs of a place she’d readied up for her to hide in if anything went badly. Not in the sense that it was hard to enter, but rather that it was incredibly well hidden.

For all intents and purposes, the bunker was right at the spot where the forest met the mountain. There was plenty of shrubbery and wild vegetation growing about the place, hiding any semblance of a path. The bunker itself was tucked in between two rocks, hiding the cave entrance from sight, a rather well-crafted illusion if he said so himself. Undoubtedly, the structure had several layers of depth to fool even the heightened senses a maiden might possess. As far as Rick could tell, the fact that the air stank of sulfur was part of this deception, making use of the nearby volcanic activity to better hide away scents.

“So you’re the Lord of Sinco.” The one that spoke up was the bodyguard, blocking his path further in, a young looking maiden with gray skin.

“You must be Sherry.” He answered simply. “I’m here to talk to Mark.”

The maiden eyed him with an odd amount of carefulness, the maiden clearly uncomfortable about him being there. “I’m going to check you for weapons.”

Rick quirked a brow, not seeing the point of needing to be checked when Mark would be in the room with his maidens while he’d be on his lonesome. But he obliged, spreading his arms and allowing the maiden to pat him down. He noticed how her fingers lingered a bit more than they ought to, the maiden frowning as she continued.

“I exercise.” Was all he commented, earning himself a quiet scowl.

Not finding anything other than the short-sword, she put that next to the entrance. “You’ll pick this up on your way out.”

With a shrug he continued inward. The inside of the bunker itself was… spacious wasn’t the right word, but more like it was a place that held potential. At a glance, the narrow corridors had been clearly intended to be used as a way to obstruct a hypothetical intruding force. But beyond that, the rooms were larger than they needed to be, leaving Rick an impression that Kiara had wished to decorate the place and make it comfortable, but hadn’t had the chance before the new tenants moved in.

The room he’d been led to was a dining area, with Mark seated at the head of the table and a… Mousegirl? at his side. No, not a Mousegirl, the way her ears twitched and the air felt charged around her made Rick rather certain she was a Tigermouse. There was just an air about them that went beyond merely having stripes on their ear-fur.

He gave Mark a cordial nod, taking the seat opposite to him.

Mark looked like something had burrowed inside him. He was healthy, in the sense that he didn’t look famished or sleep-deprived, but there was a definite hollowness behind his gaze. Rick suddenly understood why Dia had been so nervous, the redhead was giving off the same vibes as Monica when she was hunting something. An ice-cold apathy combined with a ruthless calculation over what might prove to be the best way to kill her target.

“Last I saw you, we were freshly crash-landed in the forest. I get the feeling you didn’t really make it out,” Rick said, nonplussed as he folded his arms on top of the table. “Barry mentioned you were very wary of me, and I can see that now. Did you have anything you wanted to talk about, or should we just skip over to me leaving?”

The mention of his sibling made Mark flinch. The deadness in his gaze loosened up, but not entirely. “You took over a city.”

Was that an accusation? It felt like one. “Yes.”

Mark’s stare lingered, the Tigermouse next to him twitching nervously. “How?” He asked after a moment.

“I took over the Orc tribe and brought them over.” Rick answered. “The local Lord hadn’t been too happy, but I was willing to negotiate. But he wanted to take Monica, and I knew it wasn’t going to work out.”

“So you killed him.”

A twinge of shame crossed through him, he lowered his eyes to the table. “I did.” The feel of the wooden stool in his hand lingered at the memory, the burning anger and hate inside his chest, the stare of dozens of maidens betrayed by the noble… He knew part of what he’d done had been under the influence of the emotions from the maidens he’d bonded, those rescued from the feral state. But it didn’t make it any less of his decision.

“You regret it?” Mark frowned, a hint of confusion as he observed Rick.

“Yes and no.” Rick sighed, shaking his head. “If I had to do it over again, I would’ve kept him as a hostage rather than kill him. The guy couldn’t be trusted with a rusty spoon, let alone a city, and I wasn’t about to settle down in Sinco with that guy breathing down my neck.”

It was hard to tell if his answer had been the right one; Mark had a seriously good poker face. But Rick was more concerned about the rodent at his side, the maiden looked like she was having a minor panic attack. “I’d recommend she doesn’t try to poke into my head.” He commented idly. “This whole bond business does something weird in it, and when the fox tried, she started screaming.”

She flinched, lowering her gaze, wriggling her fingers together.

“Her name’s Noah.” Mark chimed. “She was a human not that long ago, so she doesn’t have as much control over her powers as… Brye.”

“Threshold?”

“Curse of Eve.” The Tigermouse muttered. “It’s a powerful magical item, it forces a human victim to become a maiden. I’d tried to use it on Mark, back when I didn’t know…”

“The thing only works on people who have some maiden in their blood. Which is everyone.” Mark’s jaw tightened. “What do you know about the Boss?”

“Aside from a tacky title, not much. The fox hasn’t shared anything yet; Kiara’s been working her slowly.” Rick felt a twinge of amusement at how everyone else in the room flinched. “About your bond with Brye-”

“What of it?” Mark snapped, crossing his arms and glaring.

Rick waited a moment until the young man relaxed a bit before he continued. “I’m not sure if you’ve found out, but recently we woke up a maiden from… well, from when there were no maidens. She was of the first generation, grown in a vat, science experiment stuff that goes way over my head.” Leaning slightly forward, he kept his gaze on Mark’s. “I learned a few things from her, but my main takeaway was that bonds are a two-way street. Your moods influence those around you… and the moods of those around you influence you.”

“I knew that already.” He snapped.

Rick raised his hands defensively. “Giving a head’s up, just in case. Back when I killed Lord Thorly, a big part of me felt righteous anger about it, and most of that had not been my own.” With a shake of his head, he lowered his hands. “But you know what you’re doing, so just consider it an old man giving empty warnings.”

“He’s too stubborn to give a crap about his own health.” From behind him Sherry spoke up, the gray-skinned maiden leaning against the entrance, arms crossed. “You’re bonded to an army. Mark’s been having a lot of trouble with just the three of us. How.”

The young woman went quiet when Mark glared at her, but Rick ignored that, looking at her for a moment to try and figure her out. There wasn’t anything about her that felt distinctive other than her breed. Gray skin that almost looked like rock wasn’t something he’d seen before, so he had to assume she wasn’t from around these parts.

But more importantly, she looked like she was the odd one out in the room. Mark and Noah clearly had something going on, their subconscious body-language had the mouse almost leaning into him. Sherry in the meanwhile seemed to be just… there. Not forced, exactly, but not happy about things either.

“I’m not entirely sure on the how’s and why’s of it.” He looked back at Mark. “As far as I can tell, a bond requires a moment of empathy to form. It can be a split second, but so long as you and the maiden in question share a strong enough emotion… it can snap into place. Just like that.” Taking a deep breath, he quirked a grin. “The hard part is keeping it in place… and not being drowned out.”

“Keep it?” Noah tensed. “The bond’s practically unbreakable. We’re in this mess because that bitch made it too deep!”

“I don’t know much about breaking bonds, unfortunately.” Rick shook his head. “What I can tell you though, is that the bonds allow a lot of things to filter through. Way more than you’d think possible.”

“Like?” Sherry asked, suddenly concerned.

“This.”

Rick focused on Monica, on the feel of her, on her thoughts, on the way she moved and sat and looked at the world. It was almost second nature by now, a flip of the switch. One blink and it was like putting on a warm cape. His posture shifted, his gaze sharpened, suddenly every detail within the room was more readily available to his senses. There was a slight stench to the place he’d ignored when he came up, stress and fear. The two maidens were tense. Their positions from the get-go had been with the clear intention to protect Mark from an outside threat, Sherry herself having taken a spot behind him close enough she could jump him at the slightest twitch. Mark had not realized this, having sat in the single spot of the room that gave him full visibility for the others within.

A moment later, both maidens had jumped to their feet. Sherry had lifted her mace, Noah had a dagger. It took Mark another second before he’d caught up, though he didn’t move from his spot.

“See?” Rick let out a slow breath and focused on raising his defenses again, sending a slight feeling of reassurance at Monica as she’d nearly barged in to ask whether he was ok or not.

“What the fuck was that!?” The Tigermouse snapped.

“I borrowed the feeling of being Monica.” Rick shook his head. “It’s like putting on a disguise, or like acting class, trying to pretend to be her.” His gaze focused on Mark. “But it can happen unintentionally too. If you happen to be in the wrong mindset at the wrong time, you can find yourself caught thinking like someone you bonded. And I’ve done it too often to count, honestly. I can’t imagine what it might be like to have a bond that was forcefully strengthened.”

The two maidens shared worried looks, Mark’s gaze darkened. “And how do you counter it?”

“Practice and training.” Rick glanced at Noah for a moment. “I’d recommend having someone you trust try to shove their way into your head. Over and over and over. It’ll give you a feel for your own mind, and from there you should be able to raise your defenses better.”

On one hand, he could’ve offered to bring him to Sinco and have the psychic-mice try to drill into his head. But on the other, Rick was quite sure Mark would sooner run away than leave himself in any position of vulnerability. Just looking at the guy left Rick wondering why he was still around.

Better not rush things.

“Anyway, I think that’s going to be that for today.” He stood up. “If you want to talk again, you can send Noah. The Cog Horde would be happy to have her show up, some have been asking about her.”

The Tigermouse’s ears lit up, turning red as she immediately lowered her gaze to the floor.

“Wait.” Mark called out before Rick had turned to leave.

“Yeah?”

“The Boss… all that’s been happening around these parts, it’s because of him.” He called out, lips drawing thin. “I don’t know the details, but Aubria is chock-full of his people. Not in the courts, but in the streets. Any criminal activity there, he knows of it.”

Rick frowned, nodding slowly. “Thanks for the tip.”

He felt like he’d been given a piece of the puzzle, yet wasn’t entirely certain where it might fit. A crime lord, one who’d intended to get Sinco into Vampire hands. Why? Normally, he’d just throw aside the detail, but right now his concerns lay beyond the impending fight with the Darktons.

Because even if he won the battle, if he couldn’t get the chance to sue for peace somehow, then the wider kingdom might get involved. And that was a fight he was certain he’d lose no matter how many tricks he pulled out of his sleeve.