Chapter 135
Veronica flinched as her boots crunched in the sand and rocks. The world was a cocoon of water, save the river bed she crouched on, with her spell to the right twisting the river's flow over her. In times past, she would have used a spell that manipulated the entire stream around her instead of only molding one side to create the space. After practice and trial, the water scion had mastered the ability to work with her elements' natural flow rather than force it into the desired shape.
The orcs her blue eyes beheld ahead of her through a peephole in the water probably wouldn't applaud such growth.
Eight of the green vermin were held up in a small patch of trees just beyond the riverbank. Each had a bow trained on one of the surrounding men waiting behind a shield or large rock. Attention that meant none were looking at the small opening in the river. Feeling impatience from her bird familiar in their spirit connection, the blonde finally felt the moment arrive as she tightened her grip on the spear in her hands.
'Now, Chattox. The one furthest from the river.' She whispered in her mind despite the complete inability of anyone save the two of them to hear the words. As she relayed the command, Veronica pulled out a mana crystal from her right pants pocket. Trained movements cracked the side of the bluish crystal, then sucked in the blue specks.
When the javelin fell from the sky and landed right through the skull of the orc furthest from Veronica, the water scion widened her peeping hole and unleashed her spells. Seven blades of water shot out of the river, each taking a green head. Victory flooded her veins, yet her face was unmoved save the blue eyes perusing the bodies. After a second of inspection, she was satisfied that the green threat was put down.
The men who had surrounded the now dead orcs were moving forward, their steel chest plates and arm guards dented and muddied from their long campaign. Veronica left them to inspect the bodies as she made her way back down the river. No matter how dead those orcs were, there were always more out on the Bloody Plains, so she walked on the riverbed despite the expenditure of mana. During the chorus of crunching rock and sucking sand, she felt the buzz of Chattox's spirit connection turn towards the opposite side of the riverbank, then grow smaller and smaller before disappearing. Minutes of profound loneliness passed by before she finally came out of her liquid cocoon onto proper land and the closest thing to a safe zone to be found for miles.
Veronica bit her lower lip as she turned around and worked the strap of a javelin quiver over her metal chest plate. The steel reflected dashes of white and blue from the late-day sky above. A chorus of insects and the roar of the river in front of her barely registered, though she kept mindful of any noise resembling footsteps. A lesson her arduous training had hammered into her skull time and again, as it had the need to make sure the spear was driven into the dirt deep enough to hold yet shallow enough to be easily pulled out.
Slightly larger than arrows, the javelins were cleaned, then jostled about as they were placed inside the wide, leather cylinder. Her ability with them was merely passable. Chattox, her familiar, had used them to far greater effect on the trip, much in the same way he had minutes ago. After wiping some dirt from her leather pants, she took in her reflection in the water. The eyes looking back at her were still blue. Her stubby chin and soft cheekbones still had the heart shape to it despite the tan, though any lingering baby fat had melted under missions in the Bloody Plains and spear practice. The object of said practice was lifted from the grass before she took off further to the right.
Ahead was the main camp of her troop, sprawled on a stone slab lying on the riverbank, about a hundred men and near as many tents. Off to the right were a pack of men on horseback, going off to scout both further ahead and for anything following. They took a wide dirt road pressed into the surrounding grass by sheer use, though the endless fields of waist-high grass stalks didn't seem to mind.
Her approach was noticed by the men, who immediately vacated whatever path around the tents she took. The forest of white cloth eventually produced the three specimens she and her friends had called home this past week. Being the most important members of the troop, they were naturally placed in the dead center of the camp, though the other two occupants were currently elsewhere.
Veroica walked towards the left tent. Opening the flap, she immediately placed the tent as Eska's, owing to the stack of three books beside the sleeping bag. She shook her head, sending shoulder-length blonde hair in a wave. Pulling herself back up, Veronica went to the next tent and worked the flap to find a small stack of hardened, herb-laden breads beside this tent's sleeping bag. A favored treat of Chattox's and confirmation of having found her temporary abode.
Working her way inside with a low crouch, the world turned to white cloth. The only indication of the previous universe was the shouts of men and feet hitting stone. Here, however, provided a respite she couldn't get anywhere else during their two-week-long excursion. Placing the javelin quiver and spear to the left, the blonde plopped onto the poor excuse of a bed.
Times between marching, collapsing from exhaustion, and fighting were few and far between on these excursions. Given that, she allowed her body to make its objections known. Having been denied their time on the podium for so long, every fiber of muscle gave its rousing condemnation of these past weeks and months. She listened to the chorus, lying down without removing her metal chest plate.
Adding to the moment, a faint buzz suddenly flicked on her head. The spirit connection from her familiar said the bird was approaching from somewhere far over the river. Veronica was content to sit still and feel the buzz for a few minutes, but the voices of Eska and Mia just outside the tent paused the meditation. When it was clear the tent was too insulated for her to make out the words being spoken, the water scion cut off the aches song and got up, slinging the javelin quiver over her shoulder and gripping the spear firmly in hand as she did so.
Once past the flap, she saw Eska standing in front of her, looking to the right with arms crossed. Black, shoulder-length hair barely touched the metal chest plate adorned on the wind mage's chest. A pair of black glasses matched the hair, though the brown eyes within provided some contrast. Her brown pants and grey shirt bore splotches of dirt, though the quiver of arrows and bow along her back were spotless. Eska's sharp nose snorted before she turned her tanned face to the rising water scion.
"See? No injuries." Eska scoffed before turning to the redhead she had been arguing with over to the further right.
Mia was the third member of their magical troop, and of the three, she had been the least visually affected by the training. Her skin was just as tanned as it had always been, the red hair kept its usual shortness, and her muscular frame still protruded the same portions of fat and muscle they had from her escapades back at the academy. It was the sword and shield at her back that informed the other two of the redhead still moving forward in time with them.
"There was a lot of blood." Mia retorted with a pucker of her dark lips. Her brown eyes went to Veronica, sending a smile near her smooth cheekbones. "I suppose it was more theirs rather than ours."
"Yeah we-"
"Arrows!" Someone yelled near the river.
All three women and the surrounding men dropped to the ground or raised shields. The expected screech rang out and culminated in a deadly shaft shooting over and past the women. In the second that the attack took place, Eska was already cutting into a palmed mana crystal and sucking in the escaping blue specks as more arrows were heard both coming and going.
Following the arrows' estimated trajectory, Veronica looked out over the river to see three orcs dressed in grass and leather made to resemble mud. They were perched on a small boat whose side was fashioned after a log. Their most eye-catching feature was the bows currently being fitted with a second round of arrows.
When the shafts were on the cusp of being unleashed, a gale blew over the camp as Eska sent a whirlwind towards the green woman. Rather than waste the arrows, the orcs holstered their bows and took up their paddles. Eska, not being a scion, couldn't perform wide-scale magic easily, leaving no wind blades to accompany the protective gale. Instead, she readied her own bow. The motions got an arrow barely out of its quiver before she stopped.
Experience told Veronica that the orcs were out of range for bows. Something the human archers on the riverbank agreed with as they brought their previously readied arrows back into their quivers. Anger, however, had other plans for the blonde. She retrieved a mana crystal from her pocket before taking the first step of a sprint towards the river.
"No!" Two familiar voices called out at the same time, along with Mia's rather forceful grip on her left shoulder.
"I can get them!" Veronica yelled, trying to yank her arm out of the redhead's vice-like fingers to no avail.
"Arrow holes are what you'll get," Eska growled as she grabbed Veronica's right arm. "They've probably got friends waiting on the other side."
The blonde stopped, gritting her teeth as she took in the orcs slipping away downstream. This attempt at murder was the most recent example of a long list of provocations they had endured on the trip. Nighttime sniping and poisoned blow darts came as thick as mosquitoes on this section of the Bloody Plains. It had been more aggravating than anything her training could have prepared her for, making it clear why mages were so hard to cajole into taking such assignments. Using water, her magical element, to hide and escape was the needle prick that finally drew blood.
And she could make right that insult. A water shield along the right and some water blades would make the week-long trip worth it. Anger and logic tussled for a second before she felt rage bleeding through her familiar's spirit connection.
'Chattox! No! It's too dangerous. Fly far overhead and come down here.'
It took several seconds for a sense of resignation to come through. Veronica, having decided her course, pulled back with a defeated look. Mia and Eska took their victory with smiles as they loosened their holds on the leader of the group.
"He's coming down with the latest scouting visions," Veronica stated.
Mia smiled on the right while Eska raised an eyebrow on the left.
"Not going to send him after the orcs? You're fine being stupid, just not with his life?" The wind mage asked, trying to not sound too entertained as the redhead scoffed.
"Yes," Veronica grumbled, rubbing her right shoulder.
The amused looks, combined with a bit lip from Eska, said they wanted to convey more.
"Anything else you want to share while I'm tending to my fresh wounds?" The blonde demanded with a pout.
Mia shrugged, but Eska tossed her head back and forth in thought before her brown eyes met Veronica's blue gaze.
"Nothing. If I were feeling a bit bolder, I might say it's amazing how much your face and manners reminded me of your mother just then. The priorities, as well. Of course, I would never say such a thing. So, I won't."
The water scion gave a sour puckering of her lips.
"You're right. It's a good thing you didn't."
Her usual turmoil at the mention of her mother came and went in a manner less sharp than it had in times past. How she did or didn't feel about the woman who bore her was slowly being brought into hand, yet the firm grasping of it was for another day. As the spirit connection from Chattox grew, she saw a group of men in armor approaching from the left. A head turn revealed it was the mid-thirties commander of the troop and his personal guards.
He bore hazel eyes peeking out from a steel helm whose sheen had dulled under dust and dirt, as had his chest and leg armor. Which made the cleanliness of the red sash running from his right shoulder to his left hip all the more notable. No hair touched his strong chin or neck, though bits of black strands dangled about the top of his steel cap.
"Are you all right?" He asked, looking between the group.
A round of shaking heads answered his question.
"Excellent. Command would have my head if I was the one you got injured under." He said, surveying the rest of the camp. "We should probably get ready to leave."
Danger now mostly behind them, the water scion moved to the road-facing portion of the camp. Cloth peaks were gradually undone by the men as they prepared for a late-day march. Two wagons beside the big disk of stone were soon loaded up with the goods that a hundred men couldn't carry.
When the last man took the troops' last step off the stone campsite, Chattox finally fell from the sky. The cloud of white feathers and golden beak gave the impression of a seagull, though cruel red eyes and bits of blue water mana coming off the wings undid the initial mundane impression. Veronica rubbed her familiar's crown of sharp feathers as the bird settled on her right shoulder. The final member of their group now present, they set off in a triangle with Veronica on the left, Eska in the front, and Mia trudging on the right with a bored look.
As the three mages continued their walk in the middle of the human tide, a scrawny man bearing a board with a map and some quills came up beside them. He bore a small smile, though his brown eyes were fixed on Chattox.
"If I could prepare the report, grand scion," He asked with a smile.
A sense of agreement came over Veronica from the familiar's spirit connection. To emphasize the point, Chattox launched itself off her shoulder to land on the left wagon leading in the front of the column.
"Sure," The blonde offered, smiling.
An expression he returned with a bow before power walking further ahead. Considering it was the main purpose of the weeks long scouting mission, she did not begrudge the man time with her familiar. An agony nearing its end. Something the men's faces reflected with glee.
After an hour of marching down dusty road, the near end became the proper end, to both their tour and day.
Seven black dots in the distance denoted the carriages used to plow through the glue grass that made traversal through Escher lands impossible. The second they were spotted on the horizon, the commander of the men slowed down from his position in front of the mages to walk beside them.
"An excellent showing all around, great mages. The men certainly appreciated the efforts you've exerted for them. Though, it appears our trip has reached its end. I'll have a man run ahead to fetch a carriage for you."
Veronica looked to the other two women, her rejection of the presented idea obviously shared by her female companions.
"No. The maps and the injured first. Chattox will watch the skies while Mia stays by the glue grass to burn a path through to the river, if need be. We'll go on the last round of retrievals."
Black eyebrows shot up in surprise before the commander brought his face under control.
"This is the most dangerous bit, great mages. We are still in orc territory."
"Good," Mia grumbled from the left, "I only killed five of them. A few more would make this trip truly worth the drudgery."
The commander kept his face still, save for a subtle curve on his lips threatening to form a smile. When it was apparent she spoke for the group, he bowed his head.
"I will inform the carriages at once. Again, thank you. On my and the men's behalf."
With his gratitude expressed, the commander jogged ahead as three men took up his flank. Veronica looked at her two companions, each now bearing a small smile. Appreciation, it seems, pierces armor of both metal and depression.
When the black dots became proper metal carriages, they took up positions around the makeshift camp. Mia was near the back waiting for the first sign of trouble, Eska stood vigilant on top of the carriages, and Veronica stood in the center, trying to inspect the legendary treasure hidden beneath her breastplate without anyone noticing. It was dark, so perusing the bag made of red dragon scales and leather unseen wasn't hard. It had been trivial to hide it among her personal belongings, inside a bra, or flown above with Chattox. Out here, where a single potion or mana crystal determined life and death, it needed to be more at hand. The extra space was about the size of a wardrobe, a good expansion for a bag sporting the dimensions of a book. After determining that the goods inside were all of the correct quantity, she placed the priceless object back where it belonged.
Despite the prophecies of danger, no arrows or swords were drawn during the trips final hours. Save the dog-sized beetles coming by to munch on any glue grass that dared come this far south; the wind alone assailed them.As night dragged on, the black carriages with flames coming out of their horses made the final round. Only at the slam of the second-to-last carriage's final door did the trio finally abandon their position for the trip.
Once inside the red room with cushioned benches on the left and right, the driver rattled the iron chains holding the fire horses in place, beckoning them forward. A chorus of pops almost immediately covered whatever wind, hoof stomps, or crickets would otherwise be heard. Most might find such things annoying, but the women's backs demanded too much attention on the softness of the carriage seats. Finally safe and free from worry, Veronica fell asleep on the right bench as comfortably as her equipment would allow, Chattox tucked firmly on her chest, while Eska and Mia split the left bench to perform the same routine.
"Mages?"
The male voice jolted Veronica awake. She looked to her companions, just stirring out of sleep, something Chattox mimicked with a stretch of his wings. Her blue eye then went straight ahead towards the tanned man smiling at them above the door window. More noticeable was the midday sun beating down through it. Sure enough, bits of sweat clung to her back and arms.
"I thought we were going to be dropped off at the caravan to ride a bigger box," Veronica said, stretching upward.
"That was the plan. When you were found asleep, the men demanded that you not be disturbed and instead be sent on. The commander and his troop nearly got into a fist fight with the captain when he insisted on the original plan. Driver said he'll never forget it."
Small smiles broke out over the women's faces. A second passed before they started getting up. Veronica made the first move out, something made easier by the man pulling open the door. The water scion, feeling every bit of dirt and sweat in each movement, stepped onto sandy stone with a grimace.
Before her lay vast glass walls whose interior showed various trappings of civilization being meandered through by both mage and mundane. The giant pyramid of glass blocks, each the size of a mansion, was called the 'Roost' by its lesbian residents. At this close angle, she could only just see its top comprised of three flat glass mansions instead of one. A decision rooted in aesthetic or structural considerations that had never been explained.
The Roost had many needs placed on its glass front door, not the least of which was a troop of white-dressed maids coming up behind them with watering cans for the glass mountains' various plants and gardens. An approaching mass that made the three women rush ahead through the open glass slab, though Chattox, perched on the blonde's right shoulder, would have been more than content to make any and all wait for their turn.
Inside was an open expanse bearing the same sandstone, though smoothed to a polish. On both sides were sets of wooden stairs leading to any number of floors above. In the center of the vast room were stands and hooks on the grey stone walls waiting to relieve any weary warriors of their burden. Around this spot were couches, chairs, and a hallway beyond leading elsewhere, all of which were occupied with women of every skin and hair color, save pale white. They weren't in a desert, yet the Roost was close enough to Escher's famed heat to get tanned no matter the dress.
Veronica never relieved herself of the armor or weapons, and since this space didn't have a shower, she and her companions turned right towards the doors of shining steel under the stairs. Pressing the button on the left sent the metal slabs to the sides, allowing entrance into the wooden box inside. With barely enough patience to stand still, Veronica waited until Eska and Mia finally crossed the threshold before she set the dial on the elevator panel to four and pulled the lever.
The elevator went upward, a motion the trio had gotten so used to that they barely registered the pull down on their bodies. Though it felt just a bit more punishing after a mission. When the motion stopped and the doors opened, they all shuffled out into a large hallway of wood. The red rug running along the center of the floor was the same as always, though the chairs on the left near the window were sporting a white fur their wooden predecessors lacked.
Walking down the right, the walls were likewise getting a fresh coat of blue along the top while some gold chandeliers were getting installed. Each floor of the Roost came with privileges that naturally increased the further up one went. However, the levels of the pyramid were comprised of different sections of glass squares that held up to fifty or more mages. These pretty barracks all came with cosmetic rights afforded to the best team of said block. Shortly after Veronica and her friends made it up to the fourth floor, their blocks best team had moved up a level. The newest holders of the proverbial brush had a far less rustic appreciation than their predecessors and were slowly enforcing their aesthetic tyranny.
Taking off between maids and messenger boys, they took a left at the main waiting room and up a set of stairs along the wooden wall. Days of marching had taken their toll despite the sleep, leaving them to struggle up to the second floor of the glass mansion, which was comprised of a long hallway going left and right. Their floor hadn't gotten any of the new decorations, leaving the walls plain wood and the mana lamps on the ceiling simple star-shaped crystals.
Being somewhere in the mid-rank of their block, the trio was allowed easily accessible rooms a few dozen feet past the stairs, yet their middling record of official missions denied them the rooms with outdoor windows. None cared for the slight as they came up to their three rooms on the right side of the hallway. Veronica nodded to her fellows before working her door handle, making Chattox leap off her right shoulder and through the door before it was even fully open, leaving her to go in with a roll of her eyes.
Ahead was a, at best, decent bed along the far left wall and a desk on the right past a wardrobe, all illuminated by a mana lamp by the entrance. It was the door on the immediate left that drew her attention. Closing the door behind her was effortless, stripping her armor was not. Steel breast plate came off easily enough, as did the red bag. The leather beneath, however, had almost fused to her from days of sweat and wear. As she worked the pieces off to a nauseating wave of body odor, it was only practice that kept the missions' meager meals down.
Throwing the last bit to the floor and leaning her weapons against the wall, she shoved through the left door and into the only other room her domain had. It was a cube of white and blue tiles disturbed in its checkered pattern only by a wooden shower head in the ceiling to the right, the drain below it, and an alcove bearing soaps and sponges between them. Chattox showed his usual patience by landing on her bare right shoulder and hitting her head with his left wing.
"I'm going as fast as I can." Veronica scoffed.
She dashed under the wooden circle, its holes promising sanitary salvation. Unfortunately, the instant her finger pressed the white square in its center, Chattox flew up to get the full blast of the heated water. It was only a scion's immense love for their familiar that kept her from grabbing his legs and beaming him against the tiled wall.
After a second, he pulled back to her shoulder, allowing the full deluge to wash over her. Sweat, grime, and dirt swirled down the drain, restoring the full measure of her humanity. Out on scouting missions in the Bloody Plains mana deadzone, the crystals to use her magic for cleaning couldn't be spared, nor could the risk be taken for the use of mundane water. A minute of scrubbing and rubbing soap finally rendered her decent. Another minute of enjoying the heat finally got her to press the white square again to stop the flow, despite Chattox's severe glare at the shower being cut short.
Sucking in some of the surrounding blue specks, she formed a water spell to pull any residual drops off her. Once her skin was dry, she left the washroom in a cloud of steam. The wardrobe was quickly emptied of grey underwear, a bra with the red bag hidden behind its back strap, and a cute blue dress with a white stripe over the chest, an article the blonde had been eagerly waiting to try on. Retrieving some leather sandals and setting her rancid armor outside for the maids to make decent took a minute, but she finally allowed herself out into the hallway where her friends were waiting for her.
Mia was on the left, clad in a red dress, matching both her short hair and magic element, while Eska on the right stuck to a white slip with a frilled chest. Their last member, Chattox, rested on the blonde's right shoulder.
"Should we head to the assembly first?" Veronica asked the two with a pat on Chattox's head, "Sort out what mission we'll do next?"
Eska furrowed her eyebrows, but it was Mia who spoke up.
"No!" The redhead exclaimed, drawing a look from a passing maid. "Dress on, work off. Back from a mission is also work off. Put the two together, and that's negative work. We're going to the canteen and abusing whatever they're serving today."
A smile from Eska said she agreed. Veronica was about to share her agreement when Mia grabbed both the woman's hands, yanking them along with her. A smile came over the blondes heart shaped face. The time to let loose and go wild had finally come.
She promised herself she'd live it up, have a party without a care. Maybe even meet a cute guy from the local troop. Sadly, the exciting promise ended the same way it always did, with a drink and a late-day nap by a pool. Anytime the prospect of a lively get-together or meeting new people presented itself, a gaping void in her heart opened up. The trio was bound by friendship and unforgivable sin, the latter of which always inserted itself between them and any other soul that might come close.
The steak dinner was at least good. Something she consoled herself with as the trio retreated back to their rooms from the unfulfilled promise of a heady day. Putting on a white night gown, Veronica slipped into her bed sheets. The mana lamp beside her bed was turned off and when she heard the rustle of Chattox settling into his favored wicker basket near the foot of the bed, she slacked her neck muscles to let her cheek rest on pillow. Oblivion, unlike her self-promises of wild prancing, came fast and true. As did its end.
Morning came with a tired stretch as she blindly groped for the mana lamp on the right wall. Nearly ten seconds passed before she felt the smooth texture of crystal. Which just happened to be its on/off square. A groan escaped her lips as blinding light sent her eyes scrunching. This left her motionless for a few seconds as she waited for the after-images to die down. Once that and the morning stretch were completed, Veronica pushed down the blanket and set about her day.
Leaving Chattox to rest, she showered and then changed into black pants and a white shirt, hiding the red dragon bag in her bra strap as she did so. By the time she was looking over the last few blonde strands in the wardrobe mirror, her familiar stretched in his basket before flying onto her left shoulder. With one last lookover, she smiled in satisfaction before heading out the door. On the first step out, her foot produced a crunch of paper.
Her blue eyes went down to see a slip of white paper on the wood floor. She might have thought it carelessly discarded if not for two other specimens waiting in front of her companion's door. Plucking it off her foot, a moment of gratitude came when she saw it was undamaged.
'You are hereby summoned to the head office at your earliest convenience. But the meeting will be due before midday, and drinks will be provided.'
Suspicion shot through her. As accommodating as the Roost was, at least by mundane standards, it was still very much a military institution when it came to anything outside of comforts. Things were told then followed. Drinks and 'come whenever you feel like' were far outside the norm when it came to the directions from those above. Honey for a bitter medicine, no doubt. Stuffing the letter in her right pant pocket, she went to her friend's doors.
Eska was getting up while Mia was finishing off a delivered breakfast, a warm cheese pastry of which was given to the scion and her familiar. After a few minutes of preparing and reading their own slips to confirm they had all gotten the same orders, the trio took off, clad in the standard white shirt and black pants.
Getting back to the elevator didn't take long, as few were up at dawn, save the servants. To get the morning meals to their destined rooms in time, however, the girls in white dresses had to make use of every elevator in the Roost. The heavy demand on those wooden boxes naturally turned a ten-minute trip through the glass mansions into a nearly half-hour slog. If not for the fact that most afforded a lovely view of the sun rising over the plains outside while waiting, Veronica might have felt some irritation.
Memory eventually guided them to the last elevator in the center of the glass pyramid, indicated by both the gold plate on its left with the words "Central Command" on it and the relative lack of traffic. When the metal doors pulled sideways, they revealed a floor of white marble and walls of mirrors, polished and spotless. This one also came with a designated attendant. A burly man clad in steel and a short sword stood by the dial and lever, nodding to the trio as they shuffled in.
"Destination." The shining metal bucket said, grey eyes barely seen behind slits.
Veronica coughed, preparing her vocal cords.
"Head office. We got some orders this morning."
Nothing could be seen of the face, yet the way his head slightly jerked in surprise still displayed enough emotion.
"Got the midday slips, huh? Admirable, willingly coming first thing in the morning." He mused as he worked the dial. All three pursed their lips, yet the metal statue remained silent as their guts and knees felt the pull of a sudden ascent. Veronica looked around the room, a weird feeling bubbling up in her gut from the sight of her and her three friends.
Chattox was the same, as was Mia save more muscular definition in the arms. Both Veronica and Eska were the most changed by this place, both in terms of tan and muscle. Now bereft of urgency or distraction, it hit that, yes, the blonde with no baby fat and a more defined jawline staring back at her was indeed the same one that she had seen in the bathroom or change rooms for so many years. And not a bit of morning cake or makeup to be seen. When the elevator finally slowed to a stop, the moment died, forcing her attention onto her current surroundings with the doors sliding open to a small chorus of sobbing. The metal man bowed as he ushered them out.
The hallway was a rectangular wooden cave, replete with silver chandeliers lining the top and a gold rug running down the middle from the elevator to the double doors a stone's throw opposite of them, at which two women in steel armor stood on guard. It was the women between the guards and the trio that raised the hair on the back of Veronica's head. On both sides were couches and chairs of fine leather; between each rested a table sporting a myriad of beers, juices, and teas. Something a few of the women near them took advantage of, those who weren't shaking in a chair or crying into their arms.
Most alarmingly, a few of the women were scions. Scattered among the crowd were bears, foxes, birds, insects, and living rocks, all serving as posts for their scions to cry into. Remarkably, there was only the occasional bout of wind, heat, rain, or sand. Whatever was going on, magic couldn't shield its favored gender from it.
The guards at the end of the hallway beckoned them forward. Moving through the crowds dirge ground the blonde's nerves harder than any of the bush combat they had seen. Trepidation was held in check, but there was no amount of training or experience that would undo the anxiety of seeing a fellow scion reduced to such a pitiful state. It was only her two friends looking to her for strength that kept her chin up. Whatever was coming, they would face it together.
When they came just out of arm's reach, the steel statue of a woman on the left put out her hand for them to stop.
"Names?"
"Veronica."
"Eska."
"Mia."
The guard on the right nodded to her companion.
"They are expected." She stated, sounding like she was instructing a junior.
Perhaps she was. Whatever the duo's dynamics of seniority, both pushed the doors open with equal force. Inside was a large, square room of dark wood, at the center of which was a long table whose right side continued on past their view. The trio pressed onward, revealing the rest of the room.
Past the long table was a wall of window, showing the ambling plains beyond and a sun now just reaching over the edge of the land, though its position to the right was partially blocked by a large, purple curtain ready to close at a moment's notice. If the dozen women on the far side of the long wooden table appreciated such beauty, they didn't show it on their faces.
At the center of the table was the famed princess of the Rodring Kingdom, Palta. Her black hair matched Eska's, though hers went past her shoulders to rest on a leather armor top. Those green eyes immediately went to the trio as pink lips held still above a sharp chin. Her thin nose snorted in irritation, though whether it was at the proceedings or at the horse-sized otter lying behind her knocking against her chair, was hard to tell.
To her right was one of her friends often spotted at her side, a smaller woman with black pigtails. Her stubby chin and smooth cheekbones hadn't been seen close enough for Veronica to make out such features before, though the white moth with green stripes on its wings was easy to spot from almost any distance. The rest of the table was filled with women sporting more familiars and armors of untold varieties, though it was the hand from the princess beckoning them to stand at the front that commanded any further attention.
As the trio walked to the designated space in front of the table, Veronica spotted a rather fresh-looking stain of blood on the floor just in front of the princess's spot, though she was content to remain silent. Eska moved to the front of the triangle, while Veronica stood behind her on the left, leaving Mia on the right. Not knowing where to begin, the three women stood silent before a small smile crept over Palta's face.
"Do you know why you're here?"
Eska shook her head.
"Well, if you had been going to the rewards center, you would." The princess announced, an amused smile creeping upward.
'Dammit!' Veronica yelled in her head. None heard her internal scream, though a cough from a woman to the left was.
"I have to say," A woman in a brown furred coat mused. The coat clashed with her dark as night skin, though not as harshly as the white fox familiar in her lap. At this moment, it was the curl of her thick lips that was the most pronounced feature to the trio. "It was quite a nice little puzzle you sent me on. Most of the time, it's pilfering of magical resources through inventory trickery or extortion tactics from gangs that I deal with. It took me three days of interrogating staff to finally realize you weren't picking up the mission rewards at all. A first, in all my many years here."
Silence filled the room for a moment as the trio stood still.
"Care to explain?" Palta asked, getting a bit serious.
Eska shrugged.
"What is there to explain? We were told not to take rewards for a mission more than once every month. Something about limits on supply. So, we just stopped turning them in at the Roost. As far as we are aware, that hasn't compromised anything in the field." The wind mage offered innocently enough.
Palta puckered her pink lips, clearly trying not to smile.
"It hasn't, which isn't the issue. The unspoken rule is that mages have to be paid for the missions. That's the entire point of the incentive system and guards against intimidation into overwork."
Eska bit her lips for a second before shrugging.
"An unwritten rule is one not important enough to put to paper. A rule left unsaid? Even less so."
The faces around the table ranged from guarded amusement to unrestrained eye rolls.
"I suppose we'll have to write down the unspoken then," Palta said, nodding to a wrinkled, grey-haired woman on the princess's left. A single page was handed over, which the princess looked up and down before clearing her throat.
"I never realized what a troll's fist up my ass you all were before I worked with them. No demands for special tents or beds. Not a moment's hesitation with the spells either. The redhead throws a fireball at the first sign of green skin. I've had commanders argue till blue in the face over who gets them. My highest recommendation, in all aspects."
Her manicured fingers placed the paper in front of her.
"A letter from Captain Bennet. One of our best on the mundane side of things and a veteran quite fortunate to have that old dog with puppy eyes cuteness about him."
Smiles broke out, even among the trio.
"It was the consistently high praise we got when asking the field commanders about you that led us to notice the discrepancy in missions issued versus those recorded for rewards. Why we were asking about you is the same event posted in the reward center, an area for announcements we may have to move in the future to cover circumstances such as yours."
At the last sentence, a noticeable tension filled the air. All the smiles around the table died, with more than one woman taking a deep breath and adjusting in her seat. Whatever had produced so many tears in the hallway was apparently at hand.
"What drove you to discard the rewards of missions?"
Eska bit her lips before taking a deep breath.
"They got in the way of completing said missions."
"So is it praise you desire? Recognition?" Palta inquired, looking between the three.
The smaller woman with black pigtails pulled herself up in the chair, coughing as she adjusted the moth familiar in her lap.
"Nothing to do with ego. Notice the scion hasn't said a word. In teams with such disparities, the greater partner usually doesn't even allow the others to speak in the presence of others."
"Ah," Palta then turned her green eyes on Veronica and left them there. "Perhaps a long-lost sister of mine. Scions are rare enough. To have one that shares my element, even more so. Scions who don't spend all their time without a thought to anything but benefits? Almost impossible to find. Tell me, why do you get out of bed in the morning to go on a grueling trek you know has no reward waiting for you at its end?"
The reason came to her in an instant, though it took a few seconds to articulate it.
"The reward is the orc corpses I leave in the Bloody Plains."
All around, raised eyebrows, both in approval and surprise, greeted the statement.
"And why do you want them dead?" Palta asked, looking at her with keen interest. So keen, in fact, that the giant otter behind the princess got up and turned its white face towards the blonde, its deep amber eyes staring intently.
Telling them she hated orcs because they killed Eli wasn't happening, so she went with the vaguest reason she could summon.
"It is the greatest contribution to humanity I could possibly make."
Palta nodded, seemingly satisfied. Her pointed looks towards the other two produced nods from Eska and Mia, motions the princess accepted with a nod of her own before speaking.
"I would say having children is actually a bigger contribution, tho-"
A wave of groans and tuts from the table of lesbians interrupted her. Palta looked around, acknowledging their objections, then ignoring them to fix her gaze back to the trio.
"Children and killing orcs are the big two. Though there is another. One not usually performed save on the western shores of the Bodding kingdom. This one, when it does call, is more important than the other two put together."
All three furrowed their eyebrows. Veronica was content to remain silent more often than not, but the words working up her throat would not be denied.
"More important than beating the orcs? And bringing in the next generation?"
Palta turned to her, nodding before leaning back into her chair.
"By a margin greater than any chasm or bridge."
A moment to let the words sink in passed in total silence. As if preparing for a long speech, Palta took in a lungful of air before filling the void with her voice.
"What do you know of demons?"
Veronica and Mia turned to Eska, leaving their more learned companion to answer both their and Palta's question.
"Monsters. Born from some kind of disease found in women. That's about all."
Palta shook her head back and forth in thought.
"That is one method of their reproduction. Though it is through a parasite, not a cough, that such evil spreads. The main method is by taking over land, germinating in the soil, then coming up for both air and meat. We don't know how exactly it works, but once a land has been overrun by these evil creatures, the very mana turns against us.
Blue specks turn a deep, blood red. This cruel perversion hurts the mages who use it. Use such mana enough, and it destroys the pathways used for spell work, rendering us incapable of our life's work. This poison also shuts down crafts, even before their first use, so no reprieve will be given from any trinkets brought along.
Once this corruption seeps into the soil, demons will start ripping out of the dirt. Until you've seen one close up, or worse, smelled it, you won't fully appreciate the full sum of their horror."
A question came to Veronica, one important enough to interrupt with a cough.
"What magic elements do they have?"
Palta, far from irritated at the interruption, gave the blonde a small smile.
"Claws, teeth, and numbers are their magic. And in their domain, such things are more than enough. It is an odd twist of fate that their lands share restrictive aspects similar to a mana dead zone."
The princess pulled herself straight up in the chair, leaning forward on the table to send a curtain of black hair over the wood.
"A coincidence that has demanded this meeting. Our work in the Bloody Plains makes us far more qualified to deal with such an environment than perhaps any other class of mage. A massive operation is currently underway to deal with three unique specimens of demons currently making their way to the Bodding Kingdom's walls. Your team's bird familiar and fire caster member would be tremendous assets uniquely suited to stopping them."
The three looked at each other. Facial expressions proved insufficient, prompting the electric buzz of a spirit connection to cover her right shoulder.
'Mia is for it.' Eska said, her voice bouncing around the blonde's skull instead of coming through the ears.
'I feel like the orcs owe us a unique debt. One that should be personally collected. Ask just how important this is.'
Eska took a deep breath.
"And how vital is this mission to….the greater good of humanity?"
Palta bit her lip for a second before releasing the pink skin.
"I tell you, in total honesty, I would prefer that the orcs win and we be made their slaves than see the purpose that has brought you here fail. I could fight and die here at the Roost for a hundred more years and not achieve as much good as I will out in the Lost Lands."
"You're going?!" Eska asked with furrowed black eyebrows, surprise coming clear through in her voice.
"It is a matter of both law and tradition that each nation should send a member of the leading families to fight when the great Bodding wall is threatened. I will, however, require a number of mages from here to fill out the ranks."
She took a deep breath and then released it.
"So when I say it is vital to the greater good of humanity, to a degree my meager words cannot possibly express, know that I mean it."
'Satisfied?' Eska asked through the spirit connection.
Veronica closed her eyes, trying to force out the decision already made. After a second, she finally gave a mental sigh.
'Fine. If we succeed, that should count for a good dozen missions.'
'And if we fail, at least we'll finally be dead.' Eska huffed back.
The blonde turned her blue eyes to the back of her friend's head, taking in the midnight strands for just a moment before staring at the princess.
"We'll go," Eska announced to the room.
Palta jolted in her seat in surprise. Her green eyes went wide as they flicked between the trio. The rest at the table were similarly surprised, raising eyebrows and pulling their heads back.
"Perhaps I should make our purpose here clearer." Palta offered, resting both hands in front of her. "This is not a conscription meeting. Merely an entry into a conscription lottery. I would never dream of stopping you, of course, but there is a possibility you won't be picked. And if the wailing outside the door isn't enough of a clue, this isn't a mission one should expect to return from. Of course, once you're selected to go, there is no path out save the one ahead."
"It's that dangerous in the Lost Lands? Even for a member of royalty?" Mia asked, speaking up for the first time.
Palta pulled her sharp chin up, in seeming defiance of the redhead's insinuation at the last question.
"Safety does not exist past the Bodding wall. I could be in the middle of an army, and at any point, a demon could spring from the soil to taste my blood. No one and nowhere is safe in those lands, peasant or noble."
Eska gave Veronica a heavy look back, fishing for confirmation. The blonde nodded, something Mia repeated when Eska gave her a similar look. The wind mage then turned back to the princess in front of her.
"We will forgo the lottery and accept the conscription. If we are needed."
Palta stared at them, her lips and jaw moving. Whatever words she was trying to get out wouldn't come, forcing her to shut her mouth. This was apparently rare enough that all the other women looked on with curious looks. Their eyes went properly wide when the princess stood up from her seat and did a light bow to the trio.
"You are more needed than you will ever know." She said as she rose from her bow. "For the next nine days at the Roost, you will be given no more missions. Rewarded or otherwise. The top levels spa's and accommodations are also to be made available. If these should become inoperable or reserved for others, I will make my personal facilities open to you.
Instead of simply throwing you at the demons, some specialized training will also be conducted at the City. No amount will ever be enough, but basic techniques and exposure to the demons in a relatively safe environment at least gives newcomers a chance."
A wave of nods went around the table without even a hint of objection from anyone.
"Guards!"
The double doors to the hallway opened with the two steel-clad women barging in. That their heads immediately fixed on the trio was not lost on the blonde.
"Inform those children in the hall that they're free to go," Palta announced just softly enough that it wouldn't carry too far past the doors.
Metal clanked with the guard's sudden head jerk. An action they quickly fixed with a bow and closing of the doors. A second of silence passed before a chorus of cheers and ecstatic yells sounded off from behind the wooden slabs.
"And how long will the trip take?" Eska asked, pointedly looking at Palta.
"My mother is personally escorting us in her airship. She is sparing no expense, so it will be four days under heavy mana use. She was going to use her own considerable ability in persuasion to make sure whoever was selected didn't try to run. A task no longer needed, but I'm sure she'll still accompany us all the same. For now, I would suggest enjoying the luxuries available to you."
Veronica looked around the room, taking in the women's faces. Most were impressed by the three, displaying warm smiles. A noticeable few, however, had apprehension. Probably thinking this brave and noble facade would crumble the moment it met the challenge. Since they didn't know what truly drove her and her friends, the blonde couldn't begrudge them their doubts.
With three final bows, the group turned back towards the exit. Coming back into the hallway, it was mostly deserted save a few stragglers too emotionally exhausted to leave their spot as they held both familiar and drink to their chests. As they crossed the threshold and the guards closed the doors behind them, the apparently senior guard on the left spoke up.
"What, by Bodding's grace, did you do to be instantly selected?" She asked, blue eyes finally peering through the slit.
"We volunteered." Veronica offered.
The narrow slit pulled up in shock, which wasn't as much of a display as the open jaws of the stragglers. Before it could be properly awkward, the doors opened again, through which the older woman on Palta's left peeked through with a wave of her grey hair.
"Orders directly from Palta." She said before shoving a piece of paper in the right guard's hands.
The metal head looked it up and down for a second before looking up to the girls.
"A messenger boy will be by later to tell you where you'll be staying. It will be a good hour or so, judging by previous moves. The amenities previously mentioned, however, can be immediately accessed with the right bit of jewelry."
She turned around, pulled down on a previously unseen wooden handle that matched the wall, and rummaged inside the cabinet. After a second, her right arm extended to them, bearing three golden stars sporting blue threads through their tops. Each of the trio took one of the necklaces and fitted them around their necks.
"That's not how the star ceremony usually goes," The senior guard behind them grumbled. "But I suppose this is an unusual day."
If the junior guard was embarrassed at the fumble in etiquette, the steel helm blocked anyone from seeing it. Her bow, alongside her senior fellow, was not simiraly hidden. A few of the stragglers at the couches and chairs, having overheard the conversation, sent the group appreciative smiles and nods.
"I'm hungry," Mia announced. "And have been promised great food. Where do I get it?"
"Spit Roast is the best." The senior guard announced with a pointed finger to the elevator. "The elevator guide knows this place well enough to walk it blind. He'll direct you where to go. Gold stars absolve you of any payments, so I would recommend their steaks."
The redhead gave a slight bow before taking off down the hallway, leaving her two companions to power walk behind her to catch up.
"Not going to wait for us, huh?" Eska demanded, a sour smile on her face.
"Not for one second. I've been promised gourmet meals and massages and... Everything else. I'm not waiting a single moment to get them." Mia shot back excitedly, pressing the call button for the elevator to a cascade of clicks.
A sense of agreement came from the ever-present spirit connection from Chattox.
That shattered the last bit of hesitation Veronica could muster. Whatever lay waiting for them in the Lost Lands, succulent meals and steamy baths with fragrant oils lay far closer. The blonde took a step forward and gave the button a press of her own. Eska rolled her brown eyes, looking at the two girls with the same patience mothers did their brood. When thirty seconds passed with no sign of the wooden box, Eska's right hand smacked the button, producing one pronounced click. Mia and Veronica nodded with wide grins, a feature that slowly crept up on Eska. At the rumble of the elevator's arrival, all three rushed in before the steel doors even finished their pull back.
"Woah, now!" The steel guard warned, sounding more amused than angry.
"The Spit Roast!" Mia squealed as she moved behind the steel statue guiding them.
The shiny bucket helmet looked down at their chests to see the gold stars dangling at their necks.
"At once, my ladies," He intoned, this time sounding more shocked than anything as he turned towards the elevator's panel.
She couldn't see which floor he selected, but that didn't stop anticipation from shooting up her spine. When the downward motion on their bodies stopped, all three gave the man one final bow. As the steel doors pulled to the sides, a wave of seared meat filled their noses as laughter from a massive crowd beckoned from beyond the wooden box. With nods, the trio left for their promised luxury.
The rest of the day, and the seven ones after it, sped by in a blur of sensation. Palta's promise held true, and for all that time, the women dined on the highest quality meats and most delicate desserts. Veronica maintained some vague notion of how opulent her new domain was with its white, fluffy bedding, gold lining the corners of the walls, and fine marble floors on every inch of the near house sized abode. However, it was given so little time that such beauty was barely seen, save the routes to and from her bed and wardrobe.
Duty, honor, and running from past sins had taken their toll. For a time, these things were kept in the background as every bath, meal, and drink was squeezed for all the joy that could be wrung from them. Save the nights where only thoughts remained.
Time, however, remained the supreme force in all things. By the seventh day, indulgence had become mundane. Every combination of oil and perfume had been poured into bathwater, every bite of sweetness or succulence swallowed, and every knot in muscle massaged out. They had essentially killed themselves for these now dull sensations, as far as everyone else was concerned, yet a growing desire to move on took root in Veronica's soul all the same.
On the morning of the tenth day, as they were standing by the elevator taking them down to promised death, the trio went into the wooden box with small smiles and a caw from Chattox on Veronica's right shoulder. They wore the typical white shirts and black pants for this most unusual of days. The morning proved its difference when the elevator opened on the bottom floor to a distinct lack of traffic through the building's main entrance hall. Eska dipped her head past the elevator door, looking right, then left. Her face stopped for a second before she pulled back to the group with a grimace.
Veronica raised an eyebrow at her. After it became clear Eska wasn't going to say anything, the blonde walked out of the elevator. She turned left to see two lines of troops standing on either side of the main walkway outside. It felt rather arrogant to assume they were forming a procession guard for their exit, but the smiles and nods a few gave them said it must be so. If any doubts lingered, they were quelled by the two lines of men going right up to a small wooden structure on the left holding the big wooden log they had flown in a lifetime ago. Bits of morning sun reflected off wide mirrors in the middle, shining into the dirt off to the right.
Eska came out of the elevator, followed by a confused Mia.
"Ahh," The redhead purred, clearly moved at the sight. With nothing left to do, they took what would probably be their final steps in the Roost out of the glass doors. A rather balmy day greeted them alongside a blue sky, as if nature itself was wishing them goodbye. The men they passed held expressions of sadness and respect the weather couldn't, often with watery eyes. The blonde recognized them, men they had saved or helped on any dozen or so missions. Men come to pay their respects in what was closer to a funeral procession than a grand send-off.
When they were about a dozen feet from the airship, a figure came out of the open doorway and down the stairs. It took a second for Veronica to recognize the girthy, mid-40's man in brown pants, a white shirt, and a brown leather jacket.
"Ah, Hansell. Kept well?" Veronica called.
They were close enough for the snort out of his wide nose to be heard.
"Well?!" The mid-40s man grumbled, his green eyes behind black glasses taking in the approaching trio. "My lady is more distressed than ever before."
He emphasized the statement by running a hand over his bald cap and through the remaining grey and brown strands on the sides.
"Of course, sending one's only daughter to probable death is certain to rattle even the strongest nerves. Now, for royal etiquette. On greeting-"
"Hansell!" A voice called behind him.
In the doorway stood a woman of both age and youth. Her curtain of silvery hair matched the slip of a dress, colors that only emphasized the softness of her blue eyes with its faint wrinkles despite the otherwise pale, smooth skin. An indulgent smile rested above a sharp chin, pushing up against smooth cheekbones. The way he immediately bowed and went to the left side made it clear who this woman was.
"One should not be so stiff while one is still alive." The famed widow of Rodring intoned as she came down the steps with almost ethereal grace. Despite that initial impression, the way she came up and wrapped Eska in a hug was recognizably mundane. Mia was next and was given enough time to gracefully accept the gesture. When those soft hands wrapped around Veronica's sides, she felt their strength was far beyond what appearance would suggest. The rounds were finished with Chattox getting a few strokes along his crown of feathers.
When she pulled away back to the steps, those blue eyes looked between the three for a second.
"You'll never know what good it did my heart when Palta told me she had mages willingly following her. Skill and ability are important, but will determines the battle out in the Lost Lands as much as anything else. Come, my chef's best breakfast awaits us."
Eska nodded, going up the wooden steps and through the doorway. Mia followed, but when Veronica's turn came, she stopped at the door and turned around. A wave goodbye to the men standing guard was met with cheers, clapping, and tears. Her time at the Roost at its end, for now, at least, she turned back to the airship and through its doorway.
A square room of oak greeted them, with white fur carpet and black hooks along the left wall to punctuate the otherwise constant brown. Maids stood still as statues on the right, offering them chilled towels and water. Despite the fine detail to attention in their dress of black and white aprons, nothing could hide the bits of sweat threatening to bead on their foreheads or the subtle terror in their eyes.
None of which was noticed by the young boy coming from the right of the four-way hallway directly ahead. A chubby lad of seven or so years with flowing, shoulder-length black hair in a brown shirt and grey pants of a make far above most others. His green eyes immediately went to Chattox, ignoring all others present, decorum be damned.
"Are you a scion?" He asked, his eyes still on the white bird.
"Yes," Veronica offered with a small smile.
"Can I pet him?"
Veronica dropped to one knee, allowing the boy access. Apprehension came through the spirit connection for a second, which faded as the boy gently ran his hands over the familiar's backside. Nestel's silver eyebrows raised in expectation towards the boy.
"Did you just come to pet the familiar, Oswald? Not to thank them for possibly saving your mother?"
"Nah," He answered, green eyes never leaving Chattox's cruel red irises. "Just the bird."
A laugh almost forced itself up Veronica's throat. Everyone else got rueful smiles at the youthful impudence. Nestel tried to keep it down with a sour puckering of lips, but only truly succeeded when Palta came around the corner the boy had come from. Her attire was a black dress so dark it made it hard to see where her hair landed, though a chain of gold around her neck provided some color.
"He did at least ask, right?" The princess mused as she stalked up behind the chubby seven-year-old.
"He did," Veronica answered.
Oswald, so focused on his mission, didn't deign to look back as he ran some fingers over Chattox's head. Though, it didn't stop his lips from puckering in irritation.
"Seems fair to me. After they made us wait for so long."
"Oh," Eska said, looking between the princess and queen. "We weren't woken up, and no one came to get us, so we assumed things were still getting ready."
What was meant to be a light-hearted musing produced a deep frown on Nestel's face, wrinkling otherwise pristine porcelain skin.
"No one will be rushing you in any capacity. If they had tried, I would have personally hunted them down, no matter where they hid in that glass cage."
The maids somehow got even stiffer. Palta had a small smile in amusement, contrasting with the eager one on Oswald, who was reveling at the prospect of such violence.
"Mother, that would spark at least five different scandals between almost as many nations."
"You woulda punched them in the throat, then kicked them in the shins, right, Grandma?"
A small smack on his shoulder from Palta went unacknowledged, leaving Nestel to walk past the boy.
"No, I would have kicked all of them in the throat."
"OOH!" The boy cooed as he followed behind Nestel, something Palta didn't see as she closed her eyes and shook her head. Her mother ignored the expression as she approached the four-way intersection ahead.
"But that wasn't needed. Breakfast, however, very much is." The queen announced before making a sharp head turn to the waiting maids. "Get it ready."
The servants moved in a flurry, never brushing against anyone, even as they filled the hallway in every direction. Veronica moved through the familiar airship and took a right with everyone else. Before them lay a wide oak table resting over more white fur. The chairs had bits of the sun coming through the side windows, though it was the man sitting on one of two chairs at the head of the table that drew her immediate attention.
He was a late-thirties or early-forties man. Though it was hard to tell with his black beard and mustache hiding so much of his wide face. There were no wrinkles around his dark green eyes currently looking at a smaller version of Palta on the right. If this being Jeremy, Nestel's husband and king of Rodring, wasn't obvious by his presence, then the gold crown and fine purple shirt beneath a brown fur coat made it clear enough.
A moment of hesitation came as the trio tried to decide their spots, which was swiftly crushed by Nestel directing their positions. Palta took up a single seat on the opposite end of where her parents sat, with Mia on her left, Eska beside the redhead, and Veronica on the princess's right. Oswald took up the seat between the blonde and his apparent sister. It felt odd, being between Palta and her children, but the designation was set by a being of higher existence than her, so she sat in the ordained oak chair. Her butt had just hit the seat when the maids came through the doorway Veronica's group had taken.
Platters of silver were placed on the table like the finest glass, each bearing biscuits and jams of seemingly every fruit. The drinks offered were milk, apple juice, and a thin pink liquid that sported several floating tubes of a deep purple on top. A close inspection revealed them to be a vegetable, some distant relation of cucumber by the blonde's estimate. Feeling adventurous, she accepted the latter and was rewarded with a bite of lemon and a hint of caramel. Odd, yet right at the same time.
Nothing else was said at the table as breads and meats of every variety were brought out. That did make it a bit harder to ignore how Jeremy was rubbing a large hand along Nestel's lower neck. The woman of legend accepted the gesture like a cat, pushing into the massaging hand with a tired smile. When the last bit of food was cleaned from the last plate, Nestel looked to the attending maid on her right.
"Tell the captain we're ready to shove off."
A light bow, and the maid took off at a power walk, trying to balance obedience and decorum while not letting the sweat on her brow fall.
"While everyone's here," Nestel continued, nodding to Jeremy. He stopped his one-handed massage, turning to the rest of the table with a passive face. "We need to have a discussion about our time in the City. Being from the Coalition, would I be correct to assume you three have never visited that field of towers?"
Finally understanding why they were bunched on the opposite end of the table, the three nodded.
"Have you heard anything about its customs or people?"
A round of head shakes, though this time Eksa bobbed her head back and forth.
"It was made by a female ultimate mage, though their history is scant to nonexistent, and it is the center of all magical learning and endeavors."
Nestel nodded, her light blue eyes taking in every detail.
"True. The current culture is the more pressing issue for us."
"Kids," Palta interrupted with a look to her brood. "You'd best-"
"No," Nestel cut in. "They need to know the dangers of where they'll be staying for the next month or so."
Palta puckered her pink lips, a silent tugging of willpower going on between green and blue irises. A contest that continued for a few seconds longer before Palta nodded.
"They are the center of magical affairs." Nestel put in. Her mouth opened when the ship shuddered. After a second, there was the familiar tugging on the body that spoke of upward momentum. Sure enough, the blonde saw through the windows that the glass pyramid of the Roost was getting smaller. Sparing her previous home one final glance, Veronica resumed staring at Nestel, who continued.
"To hear them speak of it, they are the center of magic itself. Arrogance, perhaps not totally unearned. They serve as the second bulwark against the demon threat, culling any specimens that float across the sea and provide emergency aid in cases where other nations cannot react fast enough. This is not done out of heroic efforts or duty, but necessity, as they share the second closest land to those evils.
Make no mistake, to them, magic is the supreme principle. Not any gods, national pride, and most certainly not morality. This had engendered certain practices in their domain, some that others might find distasteful."
Taking a deep breath, Nestel seemingly prepared herself for a hard blow.
"Not the least of which is the practice of cannibalism."
Veronica sucked in her lips, as did Mia. Eska kept her face perfectly still, taking in the facts like any book she had ever read.
"How often does that happen?" Mia asked, sounding more timid than Veronica had heard from her in years.
"The problem with your question is that it assumes such things are a notable occasion and not the usual course of things."
The curtain of dull silver bounced with Nestel's head bob.
"You have to admit the logic behind it. After all, what meat would be more magically rich than one that has spent all its time pursuing magical resources?"
Veronica thought there was a certain harshness in how the Coalition pursued magical growth. This…. There were apparently always greater depths of depravity to plunge in the name of power and mana resources.
"Beyond total disregard for boundaries," Nestel continued, "Their boast is helped by them squatting on the richest mana zones recorded anywhere. Perhaps. As always, measuring such claims is a difficult thing to pin down. The City's overall abundance is not. And unlike in the Bodding or Rodring lands, their domain is ruled by a council of families, with an elected head to act as both mediator for foreign nations and to deal with the 'lesser' peoples' squabbles.
It is a bloody and violent place, where protection is guaranteed only by one's own strength. Of course, dealing with foreign nations would be difficult if the diplomats kept getting their throats slit going down the road. To counter this, a safe zone is set up for students from abroad looking to study or others conducting external business. This is also the place where training for traversing the Lost Lands will take place."
Nestel stopped for a moment, measuring each of the women. Nods from all four of the damned prompted her to continue.
"You will hear rumors of magical foods so soaked in mana that a single steak will give off small storms of lightning and carrots shoot small rivers. Beneath the stone spires lies an ecosystem of such fantastic mana density that even a mouthful of flesh would make a peasant a scion in a bite. Mana crystals, said to be the size of carriages, form in hours around random spots.
All true.
And you will not survive getting them.
Every inch of that place has been observed, cataloged, and studied. The instant you step on a blade of grass, one of the families will know it. If you aren't instantly pierced through the skull with an arrow or spell, then you have the misfortune of being used as bait. Does this stop a steady stream of witless fools from trying? Never. Even if no magical benefits followed, the City's cannibalism may have taken root from the sheer exhaustion of disposing of so many bodies.
Do. Not. Be one of those bodies. The limits of the safe zone are well marked, so you won't have to worry about wandering into someone's cook pot."
A heavy moment hung in the air before Nestel dismissed it with a huff.
"Words to ponder. There are others, but some are for our family. If you three would wait in my office down the right hallway, I will convey your portion after I've finished here."
The trio nodded as they pulled up and out of their chairs. Shuffling past the maids at the door, they took the spoken of right turn and up to a door sporting silver edges. Given the owner's permission, Eska opened it as the rest followed through.
A rather small room greeted them. A round window lay behind an oak desk displaying a rolling landscape of green. On the right of the room rested a table. This piece wouldn't have merited more than a passing glance if not for several paintings strewn about its top. Something about one of them tickled her brain, scratching at the walls of her mind without providing a clue as to what was causing it. Veronica felt she might have a better chance of finding out if Mia hadn't strolled in between her and the paintings, sporting a far-off look into the ceiling.
"Is there something you want to share, Mia?" Veronica asked.
Her red hair barely scraped past her shoulders with a head shake.
"Just wondering what I would taste like."
Veronica closed her eyes as Eska started coughing to hide a laugh. Chattox, resting on her right shoulder, chortled, amusement surging through the ever-present spirit connection below him. After a moment of reigning herself in, the blonde opened her eyes with a quip on her tongue. The words would never leave her mouth as revelation hit like a lightning bolt.
Without a thought or plan, Veronica moved around Mia towards the table.
"What is it?" The redhead asked from behind.
Ignoring the question, the water scion carefully lifted the top painting on the right side. Something that produced a squeak from Eska behind her.
"Are you crazy? Wh-" The words died in the wind mage's throat as Veronica lifted the painting upward.
It was Eli. Half a world away and dead a lifetime ago, yet here was a visage of the man they had left to fate. Every edge and contour was so well crafted by paintbrush that it looked like the man himself had come from beyond the grave to visit. Yet, something was off, a sense of wrongness she couldn't pin down.
"Why did they get the colors wrong?" Mia asked from behind, so close Veronica felt her breath on her right shoulder, something Eska mirrored on her left.
A second passed before the blonde finally registered what the problem was. The strong chin, cheeks, and forehead were as expected. Yet the eyes were green, not the purple and gold flecked irises they had seen so many times, nor was the hair the proper silver, instead more of a dull grey. It was the quad mage's face, painted in extraordinary detail, yet the painter had failed at such basic aspects.
This ghost was held up for a moment longer before being set back down. For a second, Veronica had a very stupid question about why it was here, then quashed it. Pondering why Nestel would be interested in Eli was a matter that didn't need asking. Even if the man was long dead.
The blonde turned around to see her friends visibly pale and shaken. Feelings she fully shared, yet her station as leader demanded a stiffer spine. No words were exchanged, only hands on shoulders and a quick hug. For the next few minutes, they stood in the office on the left side of the room, kept there like the painting had a physical force pushing them away from it. When the queen finally came back and walked to her desk with a smile, the trio moved in front of it in their usual formation.
"Thank you for your patience," Nestel intoned as she settled into the leather chair. "As I'm sure you've been well informed, this mission doesn't come with good odds. Part of acknowledging that reality is caring for those we leave behind. Those mages who perish against the demon threat will have their surviving family members receive no less than three pounds of mana crystal, five hundred gold coins, and a ten-year stipend, depending on the deceased member's contribution, of course.
Considering your unique….Circumstance, I will also mention that farewell letters are part of this grim bargain."
Veronica instantly knew what and to whom she would be writing. Her mother might not want to have a detailed explanation about how Eli died and the weird tools the frojan and orcs used in their assault, mixed in with wranglings over their estranged relationship, but she was going to have to accept it. Of course, this was no information lightly written down, much less handed over to someone else.
"How much confidence are such letters kept under?" The blonde asked from the left.
Nestel raised a silvery eyebrow for a moment, clearly trying to guess the reason behind the question before releasing a long breath.
"Extreme confidence, considering a fair number of them will be children of national leaders. Seeing as how the demons don't have spies, the letters don't need to be inspected. If you want, I will keep them on my person, safeguarding their chastity until they are handed over to the right person."
The blonde nodded. While trying to find the words, Nestel raised an eyebrow at Mia.
"Are the posters really of such interest to you?" She asked the redhead.
Veronica turned right to see the fire mage blush hard enough that it showed on her tan skin. Blood likewise pumped through the blonde's veins, though more at exasperation that this subject was being brought up. That Nestel also got up and ran her hands over the various paintings only drove the agony deeper into her. By some mercy of the universe, she didn't pick up Eli's portrait. Instead, the trio was treated to the visage of a dark-skinned woman in a brown head covering that went down and blended into her skin, save a white stripe running down her slim nose. Any modesty in her dress was undone by a rather fierce look in her green eyes.
"The up-and-coming future empress of the Bodding lands, Vestel. If you're wondering how such detail came about, it was from a scion and a specialized painter."
The question of how or why the portraits were made finally hit Veronica. Something Nestel apparently picked out from her facial expression alone.
"We use these to help keep track of individuals of interest. An outside scion is contracted, or we have Palta's familiar Pipkin, to get a look at the target, then provide the images in a spirit connection to the artist, one of sufficient skill to put what they see to paper through brushstrokes. A very useful tool when you might need to employ dozens of people to find someone. Not cheap, nothing involving scions ever is, but it has saved me untold hours and headaches."
Veronica's tongue danced behind a closed mouth, desperate to ask how they had seen Eli. Probably though some spy or such. A poor worker, given the obvious flaws, but it was still a piece of that dream and nightmare. Considering the man's death, perhaps she would be willing to part with the painting for something.
One question.
Courage delivered Veronica through all the battles, slogs through the hellish Bloody Plains, and that trek all the way from the eastern side of the Coalition. Here, at this moment, her bravery finally failed. Confronting anything to do with that legend was too much to bear. So, she remained silent, keeping in the words she dared not speak and could only hope to be out of the paper specter's presence in short order.
"That is not a concern for you, however." Nestel continued, laying down the painting and moving back to her seat. "The road ahead involves more beast than man. When you're at the training ground, I want you to know any expenses will be borne by the Rodring treasury related to your daily needs or equipment. If it were in my power, I would sanction the purchase of magical resources, alas, such things are so restricted that even my hands are tied."
Eska coughed, drawing everyone's eyes.
"As far as how this expedition into the Lost Lands goes, no one's told us how this is going to actually happen. Are we going to all charge into the demon hordes or break into teams of mages who do the fighting while the mundane soldiers hold the gains?"
A smile came over the queen's face.
"The details are still being debated, but the broad strokes have all been agreed on. You'll be hugging the coast for a few miles, aided by ships on the shore who will be pelting the demons with catapult and longbow. Eventually, you'll have to leave their protection and head out onto the inner lands. At some point, you'll set up long spikes of mana crystal that have enchantments placed along their insides, which will be used to burn the brood mothers to a crisp. If that sounds simple, know that nothing involving demons is.
It takes bravery told of only in children's tales to face such horror. Are you sure your hearts have the strength to see this task to its end?"
Eska raised her chin to an almost defiant height.
"We were never guaranteed anything, yet we trekked continents and fought orcs. If this task, so vital to humanity's future, ends in our deaths, then it will be a good end." The wind mage finished with a long release breath.
Veronica kept a stony face, as did Mia. If Nestel noticed anything off in their expressions, they weren't noticed past the tears forming in her light blue eyes. The woman of legend got up from her chair and walked around the table with almost unnatural grace. Her new round of hugging, however, was all too human.
"Thank you," Rodring's widow offered in a shaken voice as she pulled back to stand in front of them. More than that, it was clear from that this vulnerability was new to her. "Palta means the world to me. Her and the children. My heart has known no peace since I got that first letter saying those laws were being invoked, and it certainly hasn't gotten easier the closer that day has gotten. Damn the laws. Knowing fate has not abandoned her and sent three souls of such bravery has done me more good than anything I've heard since."
"Is the Rodring kingdom sending any other support?" Mia asked incredulously.
"In the form of supplies, both mundane and magical," Nestel answered, rubbing away the last errant tear from her left eye. "We could arrange for a few hundred men to be sent along with you, but they would do no good. Demons are not something you can throw bodies at. Hundreds of years of doctrine have determined that shield walls and spears are the best tools on the field.
If even one person should panic and flee, that would disrupt the entire formation and doom an entire squad. Becoming even a regular soldier out in the Lost Lands is an endeavor that takes years of training for that specific environment. Mages, however, can be more flexibly used. Especially those who are well versed in mana-restricted environments. Finding willing ones is the tricky part. At least, it usually is."
"Do we have to write the letters right now?" Veronica asked with a bit lip.
Nestel shook her head, focusing her light blue eyes on the blonde.
"No. You don't have to write a letter at all, if you wish to. I would counsel that, in all my centuries, I've known more people whose biggest regrets weren't the things they did, but the things they didn't."
All three gave her slight nods.
"But I've kept you here long enough with my talking and sobbing. Your rooms are ready. Four days probably doesn't feel like a lot, but trust me, in a small space such as this, it's quite the test of patience. Try to get as comfortable as you can."
Again, the trio nodded, this time ending the gesture by turning around and out the door. There was a good two feet of distance between them and the four-way intersection, so Veronica put out her hands to stop the other two for a conversation, which accompanied a spirit connection she put to both their right shoulders.
'In the letters, should we mention….Eli's demise?'
Both visibly flinched at the name, yet they still managed to shake their heads.
'Who would believe us?' Eska asked incredulously. 'Anyone reading it would say we should hold back on the bottle before they tossed the letter aside.'
Mia turned to the right to regard Eska with a raised eyebrow.
'And there's the whole….You know, getting us killed part. What happens if the letters are read before we leave? Or worse, they're read while we're out killing demons, and we come back to a trial?'
'Nestel said they would be safeguarded.' Veronica rebutted.
The wind mage now turned to the blonde with both eyebrows raised.
'That requires a lot of trust. Of a woman we met all of an hour ago. Based on a connection to her daughter, with whom we had one conversation a week or so ago.'
'And a breakfast with both." Mia chimed in.
Eska's brown eyes slid to the left, fixing on her friend with an exasperated look.
'And still trusted enough to go on a mission of certain death.' Veronica cut in. 'If we can't trust her to hold three letters, then there's a long chain of questions we need to consider about this entire expedition.'
This time, Mia gave a slight nod, yet Eska still held a pensive frown.
'Look,' The wind mage finally blurted out. 'I just don't want to worry about it while I'm out there. The monsters in front of me will be more than enough.'
A sigh of resignation escaped the blonde's lips. Veronica, at that moment, knew she was going to put the quad mage's final minutes in her letter. It wasn't a deception if she simply never brought it up.
'Fine.' The water scion scoffed before tossing her head back towards the dining room.
Her friends followed the direction, accompanying her back to the dining room. Oswald was wrestling with the horse-sized otter to the left of the dining table, while on the opposite side, Palta and her daughter played some game of wooden blocks arranged in a tower, one of which the girl was carefully pulling out. Jeremy pulled himself upright in his seat, taking in the scene with a relaxed air that somehow still had a regal aspect in his manner. That didn't stop his dark green eyes from moving to them when they crossed the room's threshold.
"All done with Nestel?" He asked with a small smile.
"Yes….sir." Veronica sputtered out.
"Jeremy, in private. Majesty, elsewhere." He said with a rise out of his chair. "Easing my wife's heart puts you in the realm of close friends, as far as I'm concerned. Your rooms are the three closest to the showers. As fascinating as a chat would be, I'm afraid my attention is demanded back where you just came from."
He gave them the slightest nod before moving to the right. The man stopped to rub the heads his daughter and granddaughter.
"Behave, girls. You especially, Bessie. This is going to be a long trip."
Bemused smiles spread across both matching faces, though Palta scoffed through hers.
"I'd thought I was two children and several battles past girl, father." The woman complained as she worked another wooden block out of the tower.
"What?" The king shot back with a raised black eyebrow. "To my memory, you just learned to walk this past year. Now look at you, all fussed over being a big girl."
Palta puckered her lips, only slightly shaking her head as she pressed a block out of the tower's side. Bessie sucked in her mouth, trying not to laugh as the king walked away. Despite assurances of familial treatment, the trio didn't dare to block royalties' path. Moving to both sides, they were treated to a smile from the king before he walked past.
With nothing left to do, they walked past the dining room table to the entrance opposite the one they had come in. Memory saw them through the hallway and over white rugs with gold trim. When they came up to the three door along the left wall, rounds of hugs and nods were exchanged before going inside to get comfortable.