The royal kitchen buzzed with the familiar clatter of trays, the murmur of voices, and the steady rhythm of feet on stone floors. Maids bustled about, their movements rehearsed and mechanical. In the far corner, however, an odd contrast to the lively activity caught one young maid's attention.
There, seated on the ground, was a lithe elf girl. Her delicate fingers worked steadily, chipping away at a small piece of wood with a tiny knife. Her expression was serene, almost distant, as if the commotion of the kitchen did not exist. The sculpture was coming to life, though what it would become was unclear.
"I don't get what her deal is," the young maid muttered, her gaze fixed on the oblivious elf. She passed a tray along without so much as a glance, her mind entirely occupied by the strange figure.
"Who?" came her mother's voice, who was standing close, stir-frying vegetables. The older woman turned to follow her daughter's line of sight. "Her?"
"Yes," the girl replied, still watching the elf as if waiting for some revelation.
"Pass me the salt," her mother instructed. The girl absently handed it over, her eyes never leaving the elf, whose movements were slow and deliberate, each stroke of the knife painstaking.
"She doesn't talk," the girl continued. "Barely reacts to anything, and her smiles are always the faintest."
"Keep your concerns to yourself," her mother said curtly, tossing a handful of herbs into the pan.
"They're not concerns"
"Well, keep them to yourself anyway," her mother insisted. "That little elf, unlike the others, is one of only two with her own room. Word is, the king likes her."
"Why?" the maid asked, now even more curious.
"I don't know," her mother replied with a shrug, stirring the vegetables. "And I don't care to know. My job is to give her honeycakes every now and then. You never know when that might come in useful."
As they spoke, the elf girl suddenly straightened, her head tilting slightly, as though hearing something beyond the kitchen's din. Without a word, she stood and darted to the window, her eyes scanning the outside world. Then, without hesitation, she dashed out of the kitchen, her light footsteps echoing down the hall.
The young maid's curiosity got the better of her. She moved to the window the elf had peered through and leaned out. Her heart skipped a beat. There, not far off, was the king himself, striding with purpose alongside his knights.
"How did she know?" the girl whispered, her breath catching. Did she hear him say something? From all the way here?
As the king and his knights began to move out of sight, the elf girl reappeared, running towards him. Her steps were quick, almost frantic, but she tripped, tumbling clumsily to the ground. The maid winced but was surprised when the elf stood up swiftly and continued her sprint, as if the fall had never happened.
The king had stopped. He waited, and when the elf girl finally reached him, breathless, he placed a hand on her head, gently ruffling her hair. His touch was almost paternal, and then—did he tug on her cheek? The elf girl offered him something, most likely the wooden carving she had been working on. The king examined it for a moment before handing it back to her.
What he did next made the maid's heart stop. There's no way that was a kiss, right? She blinked, stunned, her mind spinning. Her mother always taken it upon herself to deliver the king's food or drink herself whenever she herself was instructed to do so, so she has not really seen much of the king's personal side but knowing that he would kiss something like an elf shook her to the core.
The maid couldn't hear their conversation, but as the elf girl turned back toward the kitchen, the king and his knights resumed their march, heading toward the palace dungeons.
┌─────── ♕ ───────┐
His eyes opened but they bore no fear. He stared soullessly into my smiling face as I leaned closely to him.
"We meet again, Jerid Kane, husband to Miriam and father to Pevin"
He stared at me then said, "you can't hurt me"
"Why?" my smile widened. "Because you already killed your own mother in cold blood?"
I stood upright, conjuring out my Grimoire. It floated towards Helene and stopped before her. It opened, and it's pages flipped frantically before settling.
"Just so you know, I wouldn't have touched her" that was a lie of course but I needed him to hear it. "Try not to disappoint me with early tears". I gave Helene a go-ahead nod and I thought I saw reluctance in her. Kane took in a deep breath, readying himself as Helene took position at his head, but there was no getting ready for what he is about to go through. Too bad he is too high level for me to do it myself.
He maintained eye contact as his body convulsed violently as the spell took hold, trying to seem defiant. At first it was a slight tremor, but soon his entire frame shook uncontrollably. He tried to bite back the screams, but finally they broke free, piercing the silence with a sound that could only be described as pure agony. The high priestess let out a frightened yelp when, with a sickening crack, the first bone broke through the skin of his forearm, splintering like a jagged spear. Blood poured from the wound, drenching the floor in a deep red pool. The bone continued to grow, curling and twisting into a nightmarish bloom. His screams never ceased—his voice grew hoarse, breaking under the strain of the pain as his skin tore further, more bones erupting from his body, each sharper and more grotesque than the last. His ribs split open, puncturing through his heart, the bones twisting into spirals, their tips dripping with gore in a way that almost made me retch. His legs and spine followed, snapping and breaking as bones jutted out at grotesque angles. How the priestess was able to keep him alive and awake is beyond me but with the sweat gathering on her face I could tell she was approaching her limit. I have never imagined let alone seen anyone suffer this much yet I felt nothing. I knew it would be hard to attain satisfaction after what he had done but I didn't expect to feel...bored. It was like I was wasting precious time and effort on something considerably irrelevant.
The Grimoire puffed, turned back to purple smoke. Helene turned to me, a questioning though relief look on her.
"Find ways to get creative with him" I told her, "I want him broken beyond broken. Get him to give you the names of all those involved" then turned to the priestess. "If he dies you will take his place"
Her eyes widened, shock and fear flickering across her face as she gauged if I meant it. But she knew I did. The temple is untouchable, but I was building a ruthless and careless name, and I didn't mind using her to further that. My people 'love' me enough to forgive me for it.
His screams broke out louder again when I was already at the doors, no doubt from been put back together to start afresh. Feels like a waste. Maybe I should send a couple maids or slaves down there with the pretense of sending a message to Helene so that they could spread rumors, put the story out there...okay I will definitely do it.
When I came back to my room mother was still there. She was sitting behind my table with my cube. She casually glanced up when the doors opened.
"I thought you said till morning" she said, smiling.
"Be in my shoes, and you'll know how hard it is to stay away from you for even a minute." Those words had a funny effect on her and she laughed softly before we shared a brief but lingering kiss. "What do you think of it?" I asked, referring to the cube.
Her attention returned to the cube. "It looks dross," she said, turning the cube over. "Its only worth seems to be that it's in your possession because I feel nothing from it."
That doesn't feel right but it was similar to what Helene had said.
"You can send it to Whitlock to get it appraised if you are confused. I'm sure he won't deny you"
Whitlock? I don't recognize the name. "And why can't we just summon him to the palace"
"Well I think he is still crippled" she laughed beautifully again, putting the box back.
I think that was her attempt on a joke so I smiled back. For someone who is considered cold I feel nothing but warmth from her. And desire. Something about her makes me obsessed, not just the sex.
"Where can I find him?"
She raised an eyebrow. "You are going yourself?"
"Yes"
She stared at me for a moment then stood up. "I will take you there"
I assumed he was a noble, thus rich, but my carriage didn't go to the area where the rich generally live. It was the opposite direction, going through the narrow, winding streets. The buildings grew more humble as we progressed, many were under construction though, and the people moved with purpose. Some cheered and waved as I passed but I ignored.
Soon we came to a halt before an old house actively resisting change. It's clean, well taken care of, but one of the few around that doesn't have any form of recent improvements. The knights opened the doors to our carriage and quickly we came down and mother approached the door and knocked. An older lady, commoner-looking, soon opened the door. She greeted us as supposed but then added, "I'm afraid he is still asleep". Though it was courteous I was still taken aback.
"Tell him it's urgent," mother replied.
She gave a polite smile, cast me a quick glance, then walked back into the room and closed the door. I turned to face mother, she met my questioning eyes for a few moments before realization dawned on her.
"He was best mates with your father" she answered "Friend of the court."
I was nodding like I understood, and soon the door opened again and the lady with a smile ushered us in.
The inside was nothing special. Clean and humble. A tanned man with a medium brown bowl cut, dressed casually, sat in a medieval-style wheelchair at the center of the room. He was squat, with deep-set green eyes that held a faint astrological glamour if you looked closely.
"Half-gnome?" I muttered. The casual shock on his face told me I had once again said something out loud that I shouldn't have known. "Don't look so surprised," I added, "it's not hard to see if you put your mind to it." I was referring to his under 5'3 height but no one was obviously buying it.
"They are right, it is like a whole new person" he said, then turned to mother, "What brings you here?"
"He has something important he needs appraised" she answered.
He shot me a suspicious, judgmental glance. "It's different this time," Mother added quickly, catching his look.
His face relaxed just a bit, his eyes fell on the cube in my hand and indicated I bring it. The man obviously doesn't like me very much.
He was turning the cube around, inspecting it.
"How are you even a mage if you can't fight?" I asked out of nowhere.
When I first saw him I used [Appraisal] on him, as usual, that's how I knew he was half-gnome, but I also saw that he was an earth-mage. An unusual type seeing that he was so high-leveled yet so little skills and none of them earth-magic.
"Who said mages have to fight?" he gave me a look then returned to the cube, inquisitively inspecting it. "There are many ways to use the goddess' gifts, we just don't know it yet"
He told the lady to move him, and she moved him deeper into the room to a desk covered with scrolls and books. There was a flat wooden bowl too on the table. He dragged the bowl closer to him, and when we got close I saw that it contained what seemed like regular natural dirt. He placed the cube in the bowl and began pouring dirt on it. He held the cube with both hands and lifted it off the bowl. The air around us changed a bit and slowly Whitlock took his hands off the cube but it remained suspended mid air inbetween his hands vibrating slightly and spinning gently as wisps of mana swirled around it, steadily.
"Hmm" he said curiously, his eyes were closed. The cube paused, then began to spin again but the other way until it fell gently into his waiting palms.
"I have nothing," he said, still staring at the cube.
"It's fine" mother said, "we just needed to confirm that it is indeed junk"
"Not like that, no" Whitlock said quickly, looking up to mother then back at the cube. "More like I was blocked from getting something. Fascinating, really". He stared at it, trying not to let his admiration show. "Can I hold on to this for awhile?" he asked mother.
Mother looked at me, and I sighed and responded, "3 days. And if you discover anything I would like to hear it immediately"
"I would send word" he said, acknowledging my presence
"No," I said firmly. "You will be in the palace, in person"
He considered me, then a little smile broke out. "I heard of this new side of you too" he said, "It's intimidating, really. Your grandfather would be proud." He said that but he didn't sound intimidated, more like reminiscing. "I will see what I can do"
He was back to it again. I waited a few more moments before I left with mother.