Alchimia Rex

“How much do you trust me?” Camilla asked, staring at the Nightingale.

“I wouldn’t trust you with a cup of water.” Dia replied in a deadpan. “Why?”

The Elf Queen didn’t answer, not right away. It was a habit the older maiden had, to leave things hanging in the air, prolonged silences, followed by a continuation of the conversation as if nothing had happened. Dia had to wonder whether this was just something to be expected out of long-lived maidens, or if the Elf Queen’s many years trapped under the feral curse had something to do with it.

“The Watcher is likely someone who we would do well to kill.” The Elf Queen proclaimed, walking over the swampy ground.

The roots of the trees shifted before her, arranging themselves in a dry road, making every step comfortable and without trouble. Everyone else, however, would need to either follow in her wake, or trudge through mud and swampy soil.

“I’d expect actual reasoning out of you.” The healer countered, jumping over to the next large root she could find, flapping her bony wings to give herself a little boost. But her wing snagged with a low branch, and with a splat, Dia found herself laying on her back. There was a grunting sound from further behind, the maiden responsible choking on her tongue. But not Monica, the feline purred out a healthy chuckle, tail reaching out to pull her up to her feet.

Camilla didn’t even twitch, just watching Dia with those dazzling green eyes and turning to continue on. “The Watcher has been ready to strike us down for the past several hours. I suspect the only reason she’s yet to try is due to our hostage.”

Dia glanced at Monica, who shrugged.

“I don’t believe you.”

“There are threats that can’t be sensed the usual way.” She glanced over at the Viscount. “The Watcher is an Elementalist, is she not?”

The human, being carried like a glorified sack of potatoes in the arms of one of the maidens, stoically gave the barest of nods, not bothering to elaborate further. Dia frowned at him, but didn’t push. The noble’s most likely answer would be to avoid the question, or to obfuscate some detail or another. Still, it was concerning that the Elf Queen had sensed a threat that Monica had not, was there such a thing as a quality or ability that could escape the Sabertooth? The feline had been able to detect even the Ghosts of the Elven grove.

“Elementalists are the pinnacle of the Witch genus, they are the embodiment of their spellcraft.” The ageless maiden proclaimed, as if reading scripture to everyone else.

The words had certainly not been intended for Dia but to the others, keeping her voice both soft but unbending. The combination of self-assurance and almost empathetic tone reminded the healer of her older mentors. It was the voice of someone who’d taught others for countless years, knowing exactly how to draw attention and how to instill discipline amongst those who listened.

The fact that the maiden had made her mostly empty statement feel as if it was all the necessary explanation left Dia wanting to punch her. It was such an obvious trap, meant to hook in some unobservant fool into-

“Why threat?” Monica said, her tone demanding an answer rather than asking for one.

Camilla’s expression did not change, giving the barest of nods. “Because an Elementalist can cast spells that will strike targets beyond the horizon.” Her hand made a slight northward gesture. “I believe the tower we are heading to is not the one she is in, but rather, where one of her spotters are. Isn’t that right, Viscount?” The man remained perfectly stoic, keeping his gaze fixed ahead and not upon the ancient maiden.

This was the first time Dia had heard of an Elementalist’s powers, she couldn’t help but frown. The mere thought of something being capable of striking someone down from beyond the horizon was not new to her, strangely enough. Because it was a concept she’d heard from Rick, of one of the weapons that, according to him, redefined warfare in his world.

But that was a concern for another time, for now they pushed onward.

As the sun began to set, they reached what looked to be a lake, except it had all the signs of being artificially made. It was a perfect circle almost a kilometer across, with dozens of wooden totem poles as tall as Monica following the shoreline. At the center of the lake was a stone tower jutting out five times the height of Sinco’s walls. The tower was so thin it almost looked as if it could topple over from a harsh breeze.

There was a singular rope bridge connecting the center of the tower to a set of wooden totem poles near the shore. The bridge itself appeared to be in good condition, though not sturdy enough to hold more than maybe a few people at a time. It was clear the tower was meant to be appealing to ferals, while at the same time presenting a decent amount of protection from potential attacks.

“They know we’re here.” Camilla intoned, with those words of knowing things she should not be able to know.

Dia glanced at their hostage. “Well?”

“I will not forsake my duty.” The older man did his best to appear dignified even as he was held like a sack of flour. “Threaten and torture me if you must, but-”

She swiveled, facing him with a glare of barely contained fury. “Your duty.” She gritted her teeth, moving closer, wings spreading wide. “Was to protect your people. Where was your duty then!?” Her voice had risen in pitch and volume, hands clenched so tightly they shook.

A soft paw squeezed her shoulder. Monica stared down at her with a reassuring touch, gently pulling the healer away from their prisoner. “Monica help.” She declared, stepping towards the man, and grabbing him by the armor, lifting him up as if he weighed nothing at all. Everyone watched as the Sabertooth then marched towards the edge of the lake, and proceeded to dunk the Viscount into the water.

“Wha-!?” He’d no sooner get a word out that she’d push him back in, paw firmly holding his breastplate as she pulled him out after a few seconds.

“Talk now?” She asked.

“I will n-!”

And back in he went.

Dia stood there, looking as Monica effectively tortured a nobleman, blinking at the sight of it, watching as she would dunk him in over and over. After what felt like a minute, she realized that though everyone else had also been watching the feralborn’s “strategy”, many of them were also eyeing Dia warily.

“STOP!” The Viscount gasped, coughing out water, twisting his head towards the tower. “I am Viscount Gabriel Darkton, Lord of Aubria, leader of the Aubrian court! Come out!” As he said this, Monica glanced at Dia, and with a confirmation that this was what they were after, the feline turned around and handed over the sopping wet noble over to someone else.

Just as the Viscount had commanded, the door in the tower opened, a young maiden stepping out, one wearing a large floppy green hat, and a crystal ball. “That is not the Watcher.” Camilla warned, voice calm as they all waited.

The maiden crossed over the creaking rope bridge, slowly kneeling just before touching the shores. The large crystal ball was placed in front of her, and the maiden began channeling her power through it. Dia readied herself in case this was some sort of attack, certain that her gray flames would be able to destabilize whatever it was the Witch was casting. But there was no need for that, as the glass orb’s glow began to diminish, revealing a human’s face.

Slowly, the man glanced around, as if he were truly within the orb. His eyes settled on the Viscount for a moment, frowning, before swiveling the rest of the way until he fixed on Camilla. “Know that holding a nobleman prisoner is a crime punishable by death, wildling.”

“I am the one in charge.” Dia scoffed, stepping forward and straightening out. “The Viscount attacked the city of Sinco, and my Lord defeated him. A victory that would’ve resulted in no further complications, except a Tigress clan and a Vampire war-party ambushed us. They took the Lord of Sinco, and we are here to get him back.”

The Elf Queen gave her a slightly amused look, but turned her attention to their prisoner. “The truth will set you free.”

“The truth.” The man spoke solemnly, lips drawing thin, gaze leveling a glare at Dia, before turning to face the orb. “The wildlings and the Vampires found a hole big enough to send a small warband. They attacked Sinco, and they are on their way back.” Slowly, he knelt on the ground, placing his hands on his knees. “The gray-haired maiden next to me is a fleshcrafter, my life, and that of my son, are forfeit. Avenge us.”

Everyone froze.

The man in the orb stared at the Viscount with a grave look in his eyes. “I understand, my Lord.” He spoke. “Is there anything I could do?”

“Yes.” The nobleman spoke. “I have information about the Alchemist. The kingdom must know.”

Dia tried to move to shut the man up, but found her feet trapped in place by roots and vines. She stared at Camilla, and the Elf Queen’s stoic expression revealed the barest of smiles, shaking her head ever so slightly and pointing up at the sky. There, up above, was a faint glimmering light, like a tiny star next to the sun. A light that was fast approaching.

“He’s made weapons like none I’ve seen before.” The Viscount rushed to say, almost babbling the words out. “Capable of-”

“That’s enough out of you, I believe.” Camilla waved her hand. Immediately, the black collar around the Viscount’s throat tightened, cutting off his words and air. The man reached for his neck, fingers digging into flesh, trying to pull out the piece of black wood suffocating the life out of him. “Now, you, the little man in the little crystal ball.” She looked at him with a soft smile. “I am Camilla, leader of the Emerald Grove, and I was in the process of negotiations with your kingdom. Could you make certain to inform your king that this attack upon my person will make your leader’s job infinitely harder?”

There was no answer, the image merely vanished. The maiden that’d been kneeling there bowed her head low, shivering, letting out a tiny whimper as she became very still.

And Camilla quickly turned to face the healer. “Now, Dia.” The maiden turned towards the healer, ignoring the ever quieter gasps from the nobleman. “You have a choice to make.”

“What?” She looked at the crystal ball, at the noble, and at the approaching light in the sky. What unnerved her was how Monica had shifted, moving closer to her, one hand on Dia’s shoulder, hackles raised.

“That is an incoming spell-strike, I cast a little something to make it visible to you.”

Dia’s heart tightened. “We can run.”

“We could, it will take a minute to reach here, after all.” Camilla nodded. “But it would be followed by many more such attacks, we would be in constant threat of one wrong move resulting in death.” The air around her became thick with power, roots and vines and trees all shook and shivered. They grew and thickened with every passing second. “You have two options. Either the Elementalist who sent that attack is dealt with, or we must leave this region entirely.”

“Can we deal with her?” Dia asked through gritted teeth, eyes fixed on the approaching light even as the forest around her twisted and grew.

“I would be willing to lend aid, with the understanding that, politically, this was made by Rick’s request.” The maiden gave a soft amused smile even as the forest behind them began to loom overhead, taller, thicker, bigger. “Having the blessing of the representative of the Lord of Sinco would make things less bothersome overall.”

Dia couldn’t believe her ears, less so with how the Elf Queen appeared entirely unbothered by the approaching attack. Everyone else was staring directly at Dia, everyone save Monica, whose eyes were fixed on the ancient maiden. Dia’s mind spun, realizing the implications of the choices presented to her. If they stayed, it would be impossible to save Rick, not while a powerful maiden could attack them from beyond the horizon. They needed to either deal with that, or get out of here. There was no room for a middle-ground, they lacked the sort of mobility that might have made it possible. But at the same time, “dealing” with the Elementalist would be… the maiden was the one thing that had kept the Tigress clan from making a run for it.

“Fine. Do it.”

Three words.

The trees around them exploded in size, thrusting up into the sky overhead, becoming a frondous canopy. Lush green and mossy wood rippled as if made out of water, a reverse waterfall that rose into the sky, arching over them and creating a dome that blotted out the sky.

The attack struck a few seconds after, a deafening crash that made the dome buckle and splinter.

“It appears I have been wrongfully attacked,” Camilla said, smiling down at the Viscount for only a moment before making a gesture towards the bridge. Vines reached out through the bridge, overtaking it and reinforcing it. The tower crackled as the lush greenery began to spread. “Now, while the little sentinels here are otherwise distracted, let us hurry and find Richard. We would not want them to make a run for it once the Watcher dies.”

Dia frowned. “The Watcher was not in that tower.”

“Oh no, of course not. Not that I killed anyone there either, I merely blocked their exit.” The Elf Queen waved her off. “But I’d sent off my Ghosts this morning once I’d realized the true nature of the Watcher. Just in case things did not go well, of course. This would not be the first time they hunt down a spellslinger.”

Jaw tightening, Dia glared. “And why let the Viscount speak? Why not cut him off sooner?”

“Very few things are as useful as a powerful first impression.” She gestured at the Viscount. “Do you still need that little thing, or would you rather dispose of him now that his use has come to an end?”

The nobleman’s suffocation had come to an end at some point after he’d fallen unconscious. Dia held back on just agreeing he should be offed. “Rick ordered to keep him alive,” she said firmly. The ancient maiden had been right, and they needed to move now before the Tigress clans spooked deeper into the deadlands and out of their reach.

She ignored the amused smirk from the Elf Queen. “So he did.”