The story of the Elf Queen

* * *

Luaval ran his eyes over the items on the table, ensuring he hadn't forgotten anything. Combat, communication, and cloaking amulets. A full set of spare storage crystals for each. Medical and stimulant alchemy in small portioned vials. His hacking and infiltration kit, including upgraded consumables. Weapons. Combat magic wands. A set of change of clothes. Everything seems to be in place.

Next to him, Twilight and his subordinates were doing the same. Everyone was carefully checking their personal belongings. General things like food supplies, special consumables, additional weapons, and other things had been collected the day before. They had finished packing and everything they needed had been carefully packed, the Secret Guard agents, along with Luaval headed for the portal hall. There, Third and the Queen were already waiting for them. As well as two dozen other employees of the Elven Special Services to replace their colleagues in one of the secret operational bases. Last instructions, a short farewell, and it was time to depart. The mages on duty activated the portal arch, creating an extremely narrow and maximally concealed passage between two points of space. For a few moments, the passage between the columns of the arch was a continuous rippling gray nothingness, and then the outlines of another portal hall appeared in it. One by one Twilight's subordinates loaded to the top passed through it. Along with them came the rest of the Secret Guard agents, also laden and carrying heavy wooden boxes in pairs.

At the new location, their colleagues were waiting for them. Two dozen agents of the Secret Guard and the commandant of the base with his assistants. After briefly greeting Luaval and Twilight he handed them over to one of his deputies and began to deal with the newly arrived shift. The latter escorted them to the two rooms allocated for the guests, where everything had been prepared for their arrival. One was a living room, the other a working room. The first, however, was not necessary, as it was decided not to stay long. Having quickly settled in, the squad of Twilight began to immediately prepare for the departure. The assistant commandant of the base handed them a stack of sheets of paper, written in neat handwriting, as well as two crystals with imprinted images. After carefully studying them, the elves sat down in their prearranged places and began to carefully disguise themselves, using both amulets and banal, albeit very high-quality makeup.

* * *

The Secret Guard's base of operations, called Rocky, was a few days' journey north of the Middle Sea, where the Free Cities ended but the Sunworshippers' lands had not yet started. In the past, over four hundred years ago, these vast territories had been home to several large human kingdoms of varying degrees of power and civilization. They stretched from the Middle Sea in the south to the Sea of Ice in the north. In the east, their conventional border was Dantra, beyond which the lands of the Orcs began, followed by the lands of the Steppes. To the west, they bordered the Sunset Ocean. Over the long centuries of their existence, they had many ups and downs. Borders changed, dynasties and capitals changed, cities were destroyed and new ones were built. Alliances were made and broken. These kingdoms, the names of which few people except elves remember now, sometimes broke up into smaller ones during wars or rebellions, then united again. Once there was even a really outstanding leader who managed to unite them all into one huge empire. But almost immediately after his death, numerous sons from several official wives and a couple of dozen concubines, behind which stood various parties, again tore the united country apart. And then they started another bloody feud. But four hundred years ago, all that came to an end.

As many had hoped, the last Great Horde, which, by the way, included Humans in addition to Orcs and Goblins swept in a fiery shaft from the east reaching the Sunset Ocean and sweeping away almost everyone and everything in its path. Everything that could be looted, cities, and fortresses were destroyed, and much of the population was either slaughtered or enslaved back to the East. In the devastated north, only the most remote and distant settlements survived. Those in the deep forests, mountains, or near the shores of the Ice Sea, where the Great Horde units preferred not to go. to enter. In the central, most fertile and rich lands survived only a few of the most well-fortified cities, whose inhabitants fought back particularly hard and desperately. And that was at the cost of great destruction and the death of tens of thousands of defenders and inhabitants. Most of the coastal cities, which had already been Free and formed the Maritime Union, which later became the Confederation, suffered a lot of fear. But they were practically unharmed, as they managed to buy off the conquerors. By that time the commanders of the Great Horde were already racking their brains over how to take all the looted goods and captured captives back to their native lands. They considered it unnecessary to seize new trophies at the cost of even greater losses.

After the departure of the Great Horde, the Northern Kingdoms never revived. The few surviving cities badly damaged and depopulated quickly fell into disrepair. In time, some of them were completely abandoned. Vast territories became desolate and turned into the Wildlands, quickly overgrown with forests and populated by dangerous monsters. The latter were brought in abundance by the Beast Masters of the Great Horde. Some escaped into the wild, and some were let go by their masters, so as not to feed the voracious creatures and not to drag them back. Soon, the former greatness of the Northern Kingdoms was mostly ruins and some roads. In fact, in the ruins of one of the small border fortresses that once held control of the surrounding lands and a section of the Northern Path, the Rocky was located. When these places fell into disrepair, Forest had stealthily rebuilt the ruined fortress, perched atop the large rocky hill that gave it its name. Or rather, the part of it that was hidden in the depths of that very hill. The elves not only restored the fortress but also expanded it considerably. They installed a portal, and organized warehouses and barracks. They also made sure that no outsiders would come here.

The Northern Path started from the Free City of Endoras, Morgrave's northern neighbor. It split off from the Coastal Tract and ran, as one might guess, northward. First along the Bay of Endor, then along the right bank of the Lendra. It had been laid many centuries ago, in the heyday of one of the kingdoms of the North and, despite its decline and the passing years, it was still in use. Trade caravans and various expeditions, consisting mostly of adventurers, traveled along it from time to time. Tales about all kinds of treasures of the Fallen Kingdoms of the North, hidden by doomed owners before the Great Horde and waiting for new owners, were countless. They had been attracting all sorts of adventurers to the northern lands for centuries, willing to try their luck in their quest. To be fair, there was some truth in these tales. Some did manage to find this or that hidden treasure. And some also managed to get rich from such a find. However, with each passing century, there were fewer and fewer lucky ones, as all the ruins that could be searched relatively easily had already been searched and looted many times over. But there were still those who wished to do so, and especially many of them appeared after another of the dozens, if not hundreds of adventurer teams had the good fortune to find the treasure.

And of course, hundreds of traders of absolutely unique, absolutely authentic, and completely reliable maps that could point the way to untold riches. Most of which were forgeries of varying degrees of quality. But there were plenty of real maps of the Fallen Kingdoms of the North, and in Neirat there were plenty of them in the Academy's archives. Of course, the Rocky was marked on many of them. And of course, the ruined fortress, located in relative proximity to the Free Cities, could not fail to attract the attention of such adventurers. Needless to say, the elves did not need such attention. In order to minimize the visits of adventurers, the forest around "Rocky" through the efforts of a whole circle of druids made as thick and impassable as possible. At the same time, they started rumors among the inhabitants of the surrounding lands and the nearest Free Cities about ferocious monsters inhabiting them. The soil for such rumors was fertile - there were plenty of dangerous creatures in the lands north of the Middle Sea. Various monsters met here with enviable regularity, periodically taking back the land from the people. However, all the monsters around the Rocky were perfectly trained by the Beast Masters of the Forest, but that was something outsiders didn't need to know about.

Nevertheless, from time to time some daredevils decided to try their luck in these places. Most of them stayed in the wilds around "Rocky" forever. But some, by some miracle, managed to return and tell about the horrors they had seen. Two groups of adventurers even managed to reach the ruins of the fortress, at the cost of great effort and the lives of their comrades. Only to find nothing. The returned adventurers not hiding their frustration and anger, told everyone who wanted to know about it while licking their wounds and pouring alcohol into the taverns. Of course, both of these "successful" visits were staged by the Secret Guard from beginning to end. This reduced the attention of outsiders to the Rocky, further increasing the notoriety of the place. Still, there were the occasional fools who decided to take a chance. Humans, that's it.

* * *

A few hours after their arrival, when it was already deep night outside, a dozen and a half... people left the operational base of the Secret Guard through a special exit. Most of them were in simple but quality armor, and all of them were carrying weapons. Along with them were a dozen mules loaded with various bales, and a couple of wagons pulled by the same mules and loaded with bales. Accompanying the men were a pair of elves in dark green druid robes. And before them thick and almost impassable thickets literally parted, revealing a narrow, but passable road. Which led the band of men straight to the Northern Path. There they bade farewell to their guides and set off. To the only northern city that had not only survived the Great War with the Orcs but had managed to revive itself. Slowly but surely, it was uniting the abandoned lands around it, literally reclaiming them back from the wilderness. Descendants of the surviving inhabitants of the Fallen Kingdoms of the North and even settlers from other lands flocked to him. Establishing and strengthening settlements, and building new roads and bridges, over the centuries it grew from a city-state to a small but full-fledged kingdom. Strong and able to fend for itself. Of course, this happened largely with God's help. Iysatar. The Temple City. The heart of the Theocracy of the Sun.

As they emerged from the forest onto the path, the squad of men walked briskly forward, despite the total darkness. To be more precise, a squad of adventurers. Officially registered, with a confirmed bronze rank, and assigned to the guild branch in Endoras. And even having a well-deserved reputation, albeit a somewhat murky one. This squad had never been involved in anything overtly criminal. It was just that the tightly-knit core of veterans was extremely reluctant and rarely took in newcomers. Which, moreover, often did not stay with them. And they didn't take on too many tasks in the guild. Mostly for guarding and escorting caravans, but sometimes they took contracts for clearing out monsters, mostly of the beast type. And they seemed to have money all the time. That inevitably led to the idea that they earned it somewhere on the side. It wasn't hard to guess what experienced fighters could earn. But they pay all the contributions to the guild, and as it was said before, they were not seen in any outright criminality. There were more suspicious teams among the adventurers, some of which almost officially worked for the representatives of the Night Guilds as their blades. Or, rather, for the wealthy and respected citizens of the Free Cities. But everyone who needed to know knew and understood.

In a short, unremarkable, small, but tightly-knit squad of adventurers, as there were plenty of them in the Free Cities. Except for the fact that none of the people who were veterans of the squad had ever existed. They were all the result of the hard work of the elven Secret Guard, who had created this squad from scratch. From the very beginning, someone from the elves had acted under the guise of each of the mercenaries. As far as Luaval knew, this and a couple of other similar "squads" were supervised by a special department of the Secret Guard. The adventurers were as convenient a cover as possible. No one would be surprised by their long absences and dropouts. It's the perfect cover for operations in foreign territories. The only drawback was the need to pose as humans and still maintain the appearance of a squad. But such is the tough fate of the Secret Guard.

Fortunately for Luaval, he was spared the need to impersonate a human. Partly because he was much harder to disguise because of his skin color. And partly because he wasn't required to impersonate a human while undercover. His skills were needed for something else entirely. Therefore, unlike his colleagues, the dark elf was moving along with the squad with a satisfied face, wearing the favorite attire of the Dungeon Hunter. The deep night was not a problem for him, the sky was clear, and the light of the stars and the month was enough for someone who grew up in the domain of the Eternal Darkness. Even without the use of special amulets.

They had traveled a decent distance along the Northern Path overnight, and by morning they had reached the settlement that had been the border. It was the end of the lands that were at least formally within the zone of influence of the Free Cities. A rather large and well-fortified settlement was called so. Frontier. It was located on a large and gentle hill overlooking the bank of the Lendra River. It was surrounded by a powerful fence with a moat and several observation towers, from which one could see the surrounding lands in all directions for many kilometers. The local inhabitants lived mainly by fishing and forestry, providing shelter and food for those traveling to or from the north. Unlike Endoras, or its younger northern brother Guerdoras, the influence of the Sun-worshippers could already be felt here. The Temple of the Solar was not very large, but it was well maintained and cared for, gleaming against the general background of wooden buildings with walls of white stone brought from the north. And also the symbolic Small Sun in the form of a polished copper ball, which decorated the high temple spire and on sunny days shone brightly all around. In the Free Cities, there were no full-fledged temples of the Sun-Face yet. There were already followers in almost every city and hidden small shrines in some places.

However, neither Luaval nor his companions were interested in the local temple of sun worshippers. The band of adventurers arrived at Boundary-town at dawn. The sentries on the good tower spotted them from afar and prepared to meet them. Just in case. The place was not the most peaceful after all. But recognizing the guests, who had already been to Boundary-town, they let them inside without any problems and opened the gate. The detachment commander, whose disguise was taken by Twilight, quickly agreed on an inn for the whole detachment and fodder for the mules. It was good that there were enough vacant places at the inn because autumn was approaching and there were few travelers.

Of course, a group of elves could easily pass this settlement unnoticed, but conspiracy and maintaining the legend required playing a role. Therefore, they had to spend the whole day in Boundary-town, resting and diligently playing the role of adventurers who closed the next contract. And they were not lying. There really was a contract, and the squad really fulfilled it, honestly paying all the fees to the guild. All these details to Twilight were provided in advance, and the agents of the Secret Guard carefully prepared for their role. The department engaged in the creation of such cover-ups did not like it very much if their work was wasted because of someone's laziness or carelessness. It was too time-consuming and troublesome to create and maintain such "disguises".

And so the agents were forced to spend the whole day resting in the guise of people in the inn of Boundary-town, noisily drinking and slapping the buttocks of the maids. The few female members of the squad looked at it very obliquely, perfectly playing the role of veteran mercenaries, who do not like it very much when their men are molested by some village whores. As a result, not one of the foreign girls could bite adventurers for pleasant services, to their great annoyance. It was not a pleasure to work under such a cover. But they had to endure and play the part.

The next day, early in the morning, the party left Boundary-town, to the joy and relief of the locals. Adventurers were a colorful crowd, and often quite troublesome. Especially when celebrating another sealed contract. Having said goodbye to the headman, who knew the squad leader and his assistants by sight not for the first year, and even bought some small things and supplies through him, the elves moved further North. The next few days passed in a continuous journey, and they had to spend the night in the open air. Beyond Boundary-town, which deserved its name, began already half-wild lands. And some places were simply Wild. And the breath of the north could be felt more and more. Every day the nights grew colder. Autumn was coming. In the lands of the Fallen Kingdoms of the North, it came much earlier than on the shores of the warm Middle Sea and was much colder. However, this was no problem for the experienced agents, and they continued on their way cheerfully.

To the west of the Northern Path, as far as the eye could see, stretched gentle hills and plains, densely forested and growing more and more red and yellow with each passing day. To the east, in the interfluvial lands, the same forests stretched out, but they were swampy and deservedly dead. The Northern Path was empty, and no one came across it. The elves saw only the tracks of wild beasts. Including those who were not afraid of two-legged prey. But on the Lendra River, the squad passed by different ships several times. Both merchants and fishermen. The river was safer than the land road.

The first encounter was on the fourth day of the journey. Luaval noticed a pair of sentries watching the Northern Path from the top of a tall and spreading tree, even without the help of special amulets, the skills of the Dungeon Hunter were enough. Reporting to Twilight, the dark elf invisibly shadowed one of the observers, who deftly descended from the tree, barely noticing the caravan on the road, and rushed into the forest thicket along an inconspicuous path. Not too far from the road was a small but well-made fortification. A couple of sturdy log houses were surrounded by a high fence, with a ditch pocked with stakes, and a few skillfully camouflaged wolf pits with the same stakes. Nearly two dozen people, including a few stout women of stern appearance, were engaged in dressing numerous hides, cutting and skinning various animal carcasses. Among them were the bodies of quite dangerous predators, who were not squeamish of two-legged prey.

Free hunters, preying on the beasts of the frontier lands. A dangerous occupation, but also quite lucrative. The sentinel, having reached his companions, quickly reported the caravan he had seen to the chief, a stout man in his late teens. He scratched his graying beard and shook his head, waving his hand and returning to his business. It was too dangerous to get involved with a squad of adventurers. If it were a full-fledged trade caravan, he could try to sell them some of the skins or trade them for something they needed. But with these mercenaries, it's too expensive. They might decide it's cheaper not to trade, and just take everything away. When Luaval heard this, he ensured the alarm was false and caught up with the squad without anyone noticing.

But the next day they met a full-fledged and well-prepared ambush, organized by a mixed group of orcs, humans, and their half-breeds. There were goblins among them. Judging by the patterns embroidered on their clothes, they all belonged to one of the green-skinned tribes that after the Great War had decided not to return to their homeland, but had settled in the north. And they were all well-armed. Their spears, bows, arrows, and blades were not their own, but human-made, branded by one of the Confederate guilds. Which either said that their tribe was wealthy enough to buy such things from the Free Cities. Even though they'd have had to pay three times the price. It was officially forbidden to sell weapons to the greenskins. Or that the gang or the whole tribe was patronized by someone rich and powerful enough. Which was not uncommon. Many trading Houses and guilds were not averse to using knife or axe workers in competition. Or passing off their blades as such. The agents of the Secret Guard had neither time nor inclination to find out. All those sitting in ambush were quietly and without fuss liquidated, so that none of them even realized that they had died. The bodies were dragged into the forest and special baits were scattered around them. In the evening the local predators would have a sumptuous feast, and the elves continued on their way. This incident did not even slow down the squad's progress.

Once more the party met a young and frankly savage ogre. These larger and more ferocious kin of the orcs, who did not recognize them as such, were semi-intelligent creatures. There were even small tribes with some culture among them. But most of them were not much different from wild beasts. It's very dangerous wild beasts, capable of gaining experience, building clever ambushes, stealing prey, and very hard to kill. But not in this particular case. The ogre, two and a half meters tall and armed with a huge knotted club, was let down by his arrogance. Despite his age and experience, he considered the small group of humans relatively easy prey. Or rather, easy enough to take away one of their mules and retreat with it without losses. If the elves were really humans, he had a real chance to get food for the next few days, or even a week.

But the experienced agents of the Secret Guard did not give him such a chance. The ogre's life roared out of the woods breaking bushes and branches, and was cut short by a single arrow that flew straight into the open mouth. It did not pierce the skull, but it pierced the occipital bone from the inside. It was a very serious wound, but, as experience had shown, not guaranteed to be fatal to ogres, who were second only to trolls in regeneration. If the arrow had not been enchanted. It caused the monster's brain to rot, as well as much of its innards. After calming the frightened animals, the elves continued on their way. Only two agents, cursing quietly, stayed near the carcass of the slain ogre to make it look less suspicious. If someone found it with a rotted head and part of its chest it might arouse suspicion. And the Secret Guard doesn't want that and neither do any traces of it. Even the shakiest of traces.

There were no other encounters, and two days later the squad reached the lands of the Sun-worshippers. Here, on the Northern Path, they had erected a well-fortified monastery, where a detachment of paladins and a garrison of warrior monks were permanently stationed. The forests around it had been carefully cleared for fields, and from the high observation tower, the North Path could be seen for many kilometers in all directions. In addition, armed mounted troopers rode regularly through the neighborhood. The travelers were spotted from afar, and as they approached, they were met by a mounted troop, led by an entire paladin of the Lightbringer Order, wearing luxurious armor that glistened in the sun. In addition, they were covered with abundant gold chasing, folded into the texts of prayers to the Sun-Face. A sign of rather high status and rank. As he approached the halted troop, without dismounting, he said the traditional Sun-worshipper's greeting:

"May the Sun forever shine over you, wanderers."

Dressed up as an older man, Twilight replied in a slightly hoarse voice, bowing his head:

"And it will not set over Shining City again, honorable one."

The paladin nodded at the numerous bales as he circled the mercenaries with a steady gaze of gray eyes:

"Have you come to the Light Lands for the purpose of trade?"

"And for that too, honorable one. My companions and I have sealed a successful contract, and now we are on our way to Iyastar. We want to spend the winter in the warmth, and maybe there'll be some work for us to do for the glory of the sun."

"I see. I'm gonna have to ask you to follow me. Have your badges and belongings ready for inspection."

"Of course, honorable, of course."

The horsemen surrounded the group and escorted them to the monastery walls. At the same time, they did not let go of their weapons. The Frontier does not tolerate slackness and punishes it severely. The adventurers were not allowed inside, having been checked in the square in front of the main gate of the monastery. Four novices, led by a senior monk, scrutinized the contents of each of the bags, making careful notes and checking the adventurers' badges. At the same time, a couple of clerics along with a paladin said a few prayers and applied the minor relic. They found nothing defamatory, and only then did the Sun worshippers soften somewhat. They even offered the travelers a meal. Twilight politely declined, citing his desire to reach Iyastar as soon as possible. Having paid all the required fees and received the appropriate paper with a seal, all the adventurers went on their way. At the same time, each one did not forget to leave a small personal donation to the monastery. Privately and strictly voluntary, don't think.

The rest of the journey was uneventful. The farther the border remained, the more settled the land became. There were fewer and fewer forests, but more and more plowed fields. All the villages along the road were still surrounded by high palisades but not as strong as the ones surrounding Frontier-town. And every village had at least a small shrine to the Sun. And in the larger ones, there were temples albeit small but full-fledged. The Northern Path itself was also noticeably better. After the group passed the monastery on the border the potholes plentiful in the Wildlands disappeared almost immediately. It was evident the road had been carefully watched and repaired when necessary. They began to meet fellow travelers, mostly in small groups and sometimes in whole wagons. Some, like the elves, were going to the capital, and some, on the contrary, from it.

But the most noticeable change was that it was getting warmer every day. The cold northern autumn was receding, against all common sense, the farther the squad went into the lands of the Theocracy of the Sun-Face. While closer to the border the harvest was ending in the fields and the trees were turning yellow and red, on the outskirts of the capital the sowing season was in full swing, and it felt like the middle of spring. The explanation for this became apparent on the second day the squad crossed the border. The sky in the north had stopped darkening at night and remained bright as if it were about to begin to rise. The closer they got to the capital of the Theocracy, the brighter the nights and warmer the air became.

And the places were becoming more settled. There was no trace of the dense forests. Instead, there were spacious fields and pastures. If there were any trees, they were either orchards or small light groves, where the most feared animal was the fox that hunted chickens. There were so many travelers on the Northern Tract that the squad had to slow down. Numerous wagons were coming to the capital of the Theocracy with all sorts of goods, from food and building materials to goods from the southern coast of the Middle Sea. Because of this, the squad reached their destination a day later than planned. Although, a day was a very arbitrary concept in the capital of the Theocracy. Because the sun never set on Iyastar.

When the group reached the top of the next hollow hill on which the Northern Path ran, a bright light shone in the faces of all the elves and a breathtaking sight opened up to their eyes. On the shore of the full-flowing lake from which Lendra originated, in the middle of a fertile valley surrounded by gentle hills, there was a huge city surrounded by a high snow-white wall. In the center of the city, a temple of the same white stone towered above the three- and four-story houses. The height of its huge dome exceeded them three times at least. And its gleaming spire, pointing skyward, loomed even farther away. And above them, the Lesser Sun shone dazzlingly. The incarnate Miracle granted by the Sun-Face to his followers on the day when the last stone was laid in its place and the First Temple opened its doors to the congregation. A true sun that had never set over Iyastar.

Thanks to it, the capital of the Theocracy and its surroundings were perpetually summer and warm. Even in the harshest northern winter, instead of snowfalls and bitter frosts. At worst torrential rains, but warm. In the fields around Iyastar, the peasants harvested three crops a year. It's the only place south of the Middle Sea that could boast of such a bounty. The bounty of the land was due in no small part to the favor not only of the Sun-Face but also of Gaia. The Life-Giver was one of the few celestials whose open worship in the lands of the Northern Theocracy was in no way frowned upon, let alone forbidden. Her temples and shrines were far fewer in number, but her priestesses were honored and respected before every planting season.

After admiring the view of the Theocracy's capital for a while, and with the nodding approval of the locals the group headed for the open city gates that led to the Northern Path. Despite the deep night, it was bright, birds were singing, the grass was green and lush, and a cool breeze was blowing from the lake, where dozens of boats were visible. But this idyll and pastoral setting did not please the agents of the Secret Guard and Luaval. Especially not the latter, given the sun-worshippers' love for dark things, and for the inhabitants of the Underworld in particular. They had a difficult and dangerous job ahead of them.

* * *

The clatter of high heels on polished marble slabs made him flinch and once again adjust the collar of his expensive robes. At times like this, Curator envied his personal assistant, who was purposely devoid of unnecessary emotions. A charming maid in a flawless black and white dress stopped in front of them and curtsied gracefully. Curator's gaze slid involuntarily to the cleavage of her enlarged breasts, barely covered by the dress.

"Master is ready for you. Please follow me."

Her face and voice, completely devoid of emotion, were a little dissonant with her charming appearance and figure. It was like talking to a reanimated statue. Curator himself preferred bed toys to retain emotion. Or at least authentically portray the same passion and desire. But everyone has their preferences in bed... Damn it, you're thinking about the wrong thing! With an effort of will, the Curator forced himself to tear his gaze away from the seductive figure of the maid, which the dress emphasized. Licking his parched lips, he again considered the words for the upcoming conversation. There was no doubt that it would be a difficult one.

When he reached the door of the workshop, the maid made another perfect curtsy and stood motionless. A moment later, the heavy solid wood doors opened without a creak, and the Curator stepped inside. Little had changed since his last visit. Still, the same desk was littered with numerous books and instruments. The same cabinets. Except that this time no bodies were hovering over the table, and the owner of the room was reading a scroll. When Curator approached, he said, without taking his eyes off it:

"Good day, Curator."

Swallowing, the guest bowed his head politely and said in a firm voice:

"Good day, Master."

The room was silent for a few seconds. Then Master sighed quietly, carefully rolled up the scroll, set it aside, and looked up at his guest. He folded his hands and said in a calm voice:

"Why did you do it, Curator?"

Licking his lips involuntarily again, he replied, trying to speak firmly, calmly, and confidently:

"I know you have a great appreciation for your masterpieces, Master. I know how much work you've put into V2. And I was hoping I could save her. For you. I thought she might be able to escape. Given her capabilities, it seemed quite realistic."

"Is that so?"

Master's scrutiny made Curator uncomfortable. There was nothing but attention on his face.

"Yes! That's the only reason I..."

"You've jeopardized our entire case," Master interrupted, squinting at his guest.

He twitched as if from a blow and opened his mouth, but his companion stopped him with a gesture.

"I told you very clearly that you had to take extreme measures to solve that problem. All you had to do was eliminate V2. But you didn't listen to me and things have gotten a lot worse. Did you really think the Elfs would let her escape? After they found out that their agent had been turned into a puppet by someone? Now our entire case is in jeopardy. And because of what?"

Exhaling, Curator answered slowly, trying with all his might to keep his voice steady:

"I really wanted to save V2. She is... truly a masterpiece, even against the background of your other works, Master. I... I really wanted to save her."

There was silence in the room. Master and Curator stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds. Then the former exhaled tiredly and leaned back in his chair, palm pressed to his face. After sitting like that for a while, Master snapped his fingers and rose to his feet. Turning his back to Curator, he headed for the closet against the wall.

"I am flattered that you think so highly of my work and value my masterpieces so much, Curator."

Behind the guest's back, the doors opened again without a sound, and several women and a couple of young girls entered the workshop. And not only human ones. All with equally indifferent faces. Very beautiful faces, and beautiful figures. As they entered the workshop, they lined up to the left of the table, like guardsmen on parade, and stood perfectly still. Swallowing, Curator cast a tense glance at them. Master's personal toys, made by him for himself. Deadly toys cost a great deal of money, both in terms of capture costs and resources to process. Meanwhile, Master returned to his desk and continued in a calm voice:

V-2 is truly a masterpiece. Material like hers is frustratingly rare for me to work with. So much potential. And so much hard work. But it's by no means unique. I have other masterpieces, as you can see. Take your pick, whichever one you like best.

"Uh... Excuse me what?"

"I say pick whichever one you like best."

With a feeble gesture of his hand, Master pointed to several small figures he'd pulled from his closet. Each was a perfect replica of one of his personal toys lined up in a row. Only naked and frozen in a slutty and lewd pose. Glancing at the figures and then at the originals, the Curator swallowed nervously and pointed at one of them. A barely perceptible smile appeared on Master's face:

"Good choice, Curator. I like her a lot, too."

"What are you..."

Master lifted the figure of the chosen woman with a graceful gesture under his guest's astonished gaze. For a second he looked Curator straight in the eye, then he moved his fingers, and the figurine crumpled into a shapeless lump with an unpleasant slurping sound. A moment later...

*CRUNCH!*

With a shriek, Curator jumped in place, palms up to his face, and reflexively clenched his eyes shut. When he opened his eyes, he blinked several times, looking at what was left of the girl he had chosen. Then he slowly turned back to Master, holding himself in place with great difficulty. Master, satisfied with the effect he had produced, said in a completely calm voice:

"Our cause, Curator, our primary goal, is far more important than any of my masterpieces. None of them are worth jeopardizing. I hope you realize that now."

Taking a snow-white handkerchief out of his pocket, Curator frantically wiped away the bloody splashes on his face and spoke with effort:

"Yes, Master."

"Very good. Because you have no margin for error anymore. There's too much at stake. Luckily for us, elves and sun-worshippers dislike each other very much, and ears are unlikely to share information. But after your blunder, they will not sit idly by. Be extremely vigilant. Especially with anything involving the V-3. They'll probably try to get to her now that she's compromised."

Shuddering once again, Curator nodded hastily:

"I know! I've already made arrangements for her, but we really need her. We've already worked out a cover for the V-3. It'll give us time while you work on the..."

"Speaking of her."

Master opened a drawer of the table and took out another figure, which was fundamentally no different from the others. It was also naked and depicted in an extremely lewd pose.

"I'm done. She's already waiting for you outside. I had to sacrifice some of her potential due to time constraints. But that won't stop her from fulfilling her role. Use it wisely."

At these words, Curator became sharply excited and even forgot about what had happened. For a moment.

"Oh, good! She's just... Uh... I meant to say, thank you, this will help us a lot, Master."

"I dare not delay you any longer, Curator."

Master waited for the guest to leave, taking the finished figurine, then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes tiredly, rubbing his hands together. What the hell... Is that so? One day he's so smart and efficient, and the next he's a total idiot! Putting everything in jeopardy because he laid his eyes on an ear puppet. A really good, really masterpiece, but still a doll! How can you do that? You can have as many of them as you want if you succeed, no, he wanted this one. And he didn't lie or cheat, otherwise he could have been a bloody stain on the floor. No, to think of it, for the sake of a doll, damn it! Oh... I must rest.

With another snap of his fingers, the motionless toys came to life and restored order in the workshop. Given that some were gifted, quite talented, and strong, there was soon no trace of his little... breakdown. While his girls were tidying up, he mentally commanded one of them. She obediently walked over to her Master, knelt silently in front of him, bared her breasts, unzipped his pants, and nipped his cock with her plump lips. With a satisfied smile, Master leaned back in his chair, enjoying her skillful tongue sliding over his cock from root to head. Reaching out, he placed his palm on her head, stroking her silky hair. Good girl, practically perfect. And all she needed was to get rid of her exorbitant arrogance and over-the-top bitchiness. And make her tits a little bigger.

Speaking of tits. Turning to the rest of his toys, Master snapped his fingers, sending another mental command. His girls already finished cleaning up immediately lined up in front of the table and began to undress. A minute later, they stood completely naked, staring at nothing in front of them. His pretty little dolls. Another mental command and they all started bouncing in place, making their enlarged tits start to very seductively and exciting bounce up and down. Up and down. Up and down. A lovely sight. A snap of his fingers, a new mental command, and his dolls froze. Then, one by one, they deftly stood on their hands, stretching vertically upward. After a moment, they spread their legs apart, becoming horizontal twines, and became like the letters "T". The remaining dolls immediately came over to them and began to kiss the exposed pussies of the girls passionately. Smiling, the Master made himself comfortable and continued to have fun with his completely submissive girls.

* * *