B3 C54: Elsewhere, War

AN: It's done! Thanks for the patience all -- getting started on the next chapter right now so that I can hopefully still get it done for Thursday! Thankfully don't have too many meetings tomorrow, so with some luck, I can pound it all out in a day.

And apologies in advance for this being a cutaway chapter. I'm aware this is slightly evil 😈 after last chapter's cliffhanger, but there are various reasons this chapter has to go here. 

Happy reading!

~~~~~~

With a dusty wheeze, the commander of the forest ambled through the dark-veined woods, eager to lay down after one of his frequent trips to the bar. That same commander sipped from a small red vial as he did so. Given its color and how he visibly perked up with each sip, one could be forgiven for thinking it was a health potion of sorts. In truth, however, the crimson color came from a much more sanguinary source.

Soon the liquid was gone, and the commander grunted.

Still feel like spider-shit. It’s not working as well anymore, is it?

Well. That was fine. If his body broke down on him, what was the harm? It wasn’t like he was needed in any case. He’d been sick for the better part of a year by now, and still the world went on. In all honesty-

What in the hells? Stumbling back into the forest shadows’ village, half-tired, half-tipsy, Rock was greeted by a strange sight. Everywhere he looked, his people ran about with urgency. To an outside observer, the entire scene might have looked like a disturbed ant hill. Rock, however, could see the hidden order within the shadows’ movements.

After all, of course he could. He was the one that had trained them all to move that way. To arm themselves. But the village was only supposed to look like this for one reason.

His heart started to pound in his chest, harder than it had in months.

Information. I need information. A familiar face in the center of the village caught his attention, shouting out orders and assurances while a throng of forest shadows surrounded him. With a single-minded drive, Rock split the crowd with ease, pushing his way to the front.

“Amak! What is this?” His voice sounded firm. Strong. The voice of a commander. Even though he’d only called a single name, all the heads around him whipped his way.

“Rock! Thank the forests.” The newest chief of the shadows shooed those nearest to him away to make room for him. “It’s an army. We just spotted it running to the north, perhaps a few thousand strong, all human.”

An army. An army!

The beating of his heart intensified further, a thunderous pulse that seemed to resonate through the entire forest. The noise drowned out all else, and only belatedly did he realize that Amak was still talking.

“... hoping we don’t need to fight. I’ve already dispatched a messenger, but we’ve yet to hear back. At this point, all we can do is prepare and wait for more information.”

As it turned out, they didn’t have long to wait, though that had nothing to do with the messenger they’d sent.

Louder than it had any right to be, a regal voice swept over the entire settlement, seeming to come from all directions at once. Rock whirled about, searching for its source before realizing some form of sound or amplification magic was at play.

In a slow and deliberate tone, the voice delivered its message.

“Citizens of Emer’Thalis! I am King Antaiu, ruler of the Antaean Kingdom and of its capital city, Ftheran. Behind me walk the brave soldiers of my kingdom, strong as steel and numbered in the thousands. Heed well my words, for I will only speak them once.”

Though he’d demanded everyone’s attention, his words had the exact opposite effect on Rock. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, as though the entire tribe stomped against the earth in unison, the blood in this veins racing so quickly, he wondered how his skin could contain it.

The king continued, some small part of Rock still listening, but the rest of him fixated on the more important details.

A war! When had his people ever been involved in a real war?

Oh, to be sure, they’d all fought before. There were far more frightening beasts in the forest than a single spider matriarch, after all, but those were just that: beasts. It had been decades -- no, generations -- since they’d fought a war against an armed and intelligent enemy. In truth, even his class, Commander of the Forest, was more of a vestigial holdover from tougher times. Until the ordeal with the kexids, he’d been far more of a glorified Forester trainer than a real commander.

But this… THIS was what he was built for. To stride into battle, to lead his tribe. To protect them with skills that, of all the forest shadows, only he had.

Of course, certainly, surely, war wasn’t something he wanted. The greatest gift a commander could ask for was to languish about in peace. He knew that. Believed it with all his heart.

Even so, though, there were times it grated. So many class quests he would scroll through, knowing he would never complete them.

Until now. Now. NOW, he could fight, grow stronger, reach new heights, save his people like he had failed to before! Not some level one therapist! Not some unknown gods! Him. Rock.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, went the war drum in his chest. To arms! For the forest! He would stand at the very front, spearheading the charge.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. So loud, so fast. He balled his hands into fist, his muscles growing taut and vibrating with energy.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. He greedily sucked in the air around him, his lungs demanding more, more, more. Still lost to his own thoughts, he panted, his extremities tingling with anticipation.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. Maybe… too loud. Too fast. His limbs felt heavier than he remembered, his skin clammy.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. He wasn’t anxious, was he? What a laughable notion. He was the Commander! He’d stared death in the face dozens of times without flinching. Some sort of attack, then?

He looked down at his fingers, rapidly growing more and more numb by the second.

His fingers.

His gaunt, stick-like fingers, draped in dry and papery gray skin, cracks of light zagging across them.

Ah. Right.

I’m not the commander anymore.

All at once, it hit him. His dust-dry throat, raw from the raspy breaths chafing against it. His frail muscles, only managing to move him around because of how little he weighed these days. And the exhaustion! The bone-deep, brain-deep, soul-deep exhaustion that left him neither while lying down nor after waking up. His aching lungs, begging him for more air no matter how much he gave them, his beating heart, swallowing his thoughts as it went faster, faster, faster.

Wait. Those last two aren’t right. That’s not… that’s not part of my condition, is it? I can’t- Why does it feel like that?

The tingling in his fingers started to spread, into his hands and up his arms, and he just needed to breathe, he needed more air, and-

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

A deep-seated feeling of dread fastened itself to each and every nerve in his body and squeezed, and he barely felt himself falling to his knees as-

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

What was- What was he doing? And why was this happening to him? He needed- He needed to breathe more. That was right. Faster. He just needed to breathe, and-

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THU-

Dimly, the ex-commander of the forest heard shouting around him. Moving. Someone was moving him. It was too dark. Had the sun set already? And then… wood? Roots?

A soothing voice like wind chimes. A warmth.

This was the final thing he felt before the darkness claimed him, and then he knew no more.

~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a certain understanding when it came to living in Emer’Thalis that weird things were bound to happen now and then. That was doubly true when it came to working in a bar partially built by a dryad. She’d been offered music lessons from an anti-like queen, life-changingly expensive wine from a white-haired noble, and training lessons from a seven-foot-tall camouflage man who drank blood. It was safe to say that Nadja was pretty hard to faze by now.

Still, she’d be the first to admit that she hadn’t woken up that day expecting the king of her former home to suddenly start magically yelling at everyone. Judging by the looks of everyone in the bar, she was guessing she wasn’t alone in that expectation either.

Nonetheless, the king continued to speak.

“Heed well my words, for I will only speak them once,” he charged them.

And they listened, too. Save for the sound of the king’s voice, the bar grew eerily quiet as he carried on with his speech.

“Many of you will know that it was through my own benevolence that the settlement about you exists today. I listened to the pleas of the forest folk, wishing for nothing more than to help them save their forest. An entire city of nothing but rubble and ruin until I arranged for builders to aid you. And it is with great sadness that I must ask, how has that goodwill been repaid? Has that same generosity been returned in kind?”

Nadja certainly assumed so. She had, after all, watched Tess steal the king’s scepter back for him, resulting in her own banishment from the Thieves’ Guild. It appeared, however, that the king was of a different mind.

“It has not! Though by no fault of most of you, your leaders have chosen to spit on my kindness, not only abruptly ending communication with us, but also harming our people at every turn. I lay the following charges plainly before you and demand the injuries borne of them be redressed.

“Firstly! I charge the settlement of Emer’Thalis with the enslavement of my people. Many months ago were my builders meant to return to me after building up a token settlement here. Instead, they have been forced to work far past the agreed upon terms, not an ounce of compensation rendered for their hard work. My first demand is the return of all my people, unharmed and immediately.”

Nadja didn’t know whether to feel afraid or amused at his claim, settling for a sort of baffled bewilderment. He wanted all of his people back? Even her? She didn’t want to go back!

More than that, anyone who didn’t live under a rock would openly laugh at what he was saying about Tess and the builders. Nadja didn’t have to like the settlement owner, but she knew all the local gossip by heart. It was a running joke amongst the builders that Foreman Tuk kept trying to work Tess to the bone whenever he saw her, not the other way around.

And even that part about payment is outdated -- we get settlement points now, and we’re supposed to get some real money soon now that the trading post is done. The builders are probably going to be the richest people around.

Well, besides Nadja, that was.

Oblivious, the king droned on.

“Secondly! Openly, you have built a vassal trading post, displaying your allegiance to a foreign kingdom. All the while, your numbers have swelled, forest shadows and kexids -- the very same dangerous kexids we were warned to avoid -- swarming into Emer’Thalis en masse. Day by day, your people run a dungeon to grow stronger as quickly as they can.

“We are not so blind as to miss a foreign power building up a military presence directly on our borders, nor will we sit idly while it does so. With haste, we demand the trading post be razed and the occupancy of the Emer’Thalis be cut down to a singular thousand people, at most. Barring this, we will have no choice but to view this settlement as hostile and gearing up for war.”

If the first charge surprised Nadja, the second completely floored her. A foreign military? In what world? Who was going to attack? The adventurers? They never thought about anything save for running the dungeon. The forest shadows? The whole point was that they lived in the forest. Even if they wanted to take over a kingdom, half their Forester skills wouldn’t even work in the open. The kexids? All she ever saw them doing was making music and pottery.

Admittedly, she didn’t really know the story behind the trading post, but if there actually was some foreign power trying to turn them into an army, they were doing a pretty piss poor job of it.

“Thirdly, lastly, and most personally, there is the matter of my daughter. It is known wide and far that of all the souls in my kingdom, there is not one more pure, more chaste, more faithful and loving than the holy, god-touched princess. So true is her devotion that she, at the behest of gods, knowingly put herself in harm’s way to aid and accompany your settlement owner with no reward to herself. And how was she treated for her assistance? She has been kidnapped. Held hostage by the monster that dared to carry herself as a just and righteous Protagonist.”

Oh shit. So Tess really was a Protagonist after all. Not that there weren’t plenty of rumors going around, both here and back when she was getting kicked out of the guild, but she’d figured they were just that. Rumors. Tall tales. Hearing it from the mouth of the king was different, though.

Still, what’s all that about kidnapped princesses? That seemed a little… extreme.

Not as extreme as the king himself, though, as it turned out.

“I pray that she is not presently here, that she may not be used as a cheap bargaining chip against me, but know that if she is, you may save yourselves from what is to come by handing her over and adhering to our other demands. Should you refuse, though -- refuse to return my people, my daughter, and then to disperse -- we will have no choice but to ensure your compliance through force.

“Know that we will not be satisfied by half-assurances, nor will we allow you to endlessly delay while you fetch your Protagonist or further reinforcements. You have ten minutes to send a runner with your reply. At any sign of aggression, or should I not find your words satisfactory, we will begin bringing your barrier down. Know now that we will not hesitate to tear down your buildings or burn your forest. It is thus for your sake that I pray you make the right decision.”

Somehow, it hadn’t really hit until then. It had just been some surprise visit from the king, some ridiculous accusations and fanciful words. But he was talking about war. Like, the actual killing people kind of war. And burning down the forest she was currently in.

Perhaps the king’s words had carried some sort of minor mental effect, as no one had shouted over him as he spoke. With his speech ended, however, the entire bar erupted into chaos as forest shadows rushed to their village and adventurers ran off to go arm themselves. Only a few stray souls stayed behind, but if they thought Nadja was in a mood to sling a few drinks, they were delusional.

Of course, she could use a stiff drink right about then, but perhaps even that wasn’t the best idea.

But what in the hells do I do? Just sit here? Do nothing? She had some bar-related defense skills. Maybe that was exactly what she would do. Just wait it out. Hope everything passed her by. Who’d attack a defenseless bartender, right? Right?

I really just need someone to tell me what to do right now.

As if summoned by her plea, a voice sounded out from the side of the room. Despite its melodic quality, it sounded… strained.

“Young one. Come here. Listen.”

Nadja turned to one of the tree trunks that made up the bar’s corners, finding a face within the wood. Relief flooded her.

“Elphaea! We’re all safe, right? You’re going to keep us safe?”

No response came for a solid minute, Nadja growing increasingly worried by the second. When Elphaea finally did answer her, it wasn’t the answer she was looking for, either.

“I am afraid that I am presently… occupied with a rather important matter, young one. My help may be limited. I would ask that you go somewhere safer.” Even through the wooden medium, she seemed tired -- something Nadja hadn’t known dryads could be.

“Well where the hells is safer than here! You want me to go hide under some rubble? They’re talking about burning the forest down!”

Another tense minute passed in silence, a few more patrons having fled while the last of them listened in, hopeful for a solution. Then once more, the face moved.

“You recall the noble’s house? Go. The wards on it are… extensive. I believe I will be able to break a few of them for you to gain entry. Even then, however, I do not believe any who have not already been invited in by the owner will be able to enter. You will be safe there. Do not leave, young one. I will be… busy. Too busy to watch over you.”

Either not expecting any argument from Nadja or not caring to hear it one way or another, Elphaea’s face disappeared from the trunk of the tree.

And of course, a small part of Nadja did want to argue. Whether or not its owner was present, she didn’t want to go back to that woman’s home. Fancy wine or not, the last time she’d been there, she hadn’t left very happy.

But there were times for childish arguments, and there were times for not being dead.

With a few apologies, she left the last few bar-goers to their own devices, running out on them before they could try to follow. Hopefully when she got back, they wouldn’t have drained the place dry.

And as Nadja ran to what she hoped would be the one safe haven in the city, her mind couldn’t help but wander to the person who’d likely gotten them all into this mess.

Tess, what the fuck were you thinking? Have you really not spoken to the king at all? And did you actually kidnap his daughter?

Hells, she probably wasn’t even in the city right now, was she? She’d be off doing who-knew-what in whatever random foreign city she’d ended up in.

Actually, scratch that. Nadja had a great idea of what Tess would be up to while they were all worrying about dying.

Considering who her friend is, she’s probably sipping on fancy noble cocktails and having a spa day right now, isn’t she?

Yup. That sounded just about right.

~~~~~~~~~

The cold air assaulted me as I was roughly thrown against the floor. The collision didn’t hurt courtesy of Warram’s skill “protecting” me, but by the same token, I couldn’t access my mana to warm myself up, either.

Of course, that was the least of my problems right now.

After being pulled into a thin carriage built for the streets of Sylum, I’d been blindfolded, handcuffed, and gagged immediately. Even my ears had been stuffed with wax, with only my nose left unplugged to leave me room to breathe.

Still, I could feel it as my spatial pouch and most of my jewelry was confiscated. Only once I was entirely pacified in every conceivable way did the carriage pull away. Where to, I had not the slightest clue. All I knew was that we had rode around for quite some time.

At some point, I’d been yanked out of the carriage and hauled away, and it was shortly after that that I’d been thrown into my present location.

Call me a pessimist, but I had little doubt that said location would prove unpleasant for me.

When at last the blindfold was ripped off and the wax removed, I was dismayed to be correct.

Iron bars slammed shut, locking me within a cell with dank and dusty black stone walls.

I expected to see more than I did. After all, I was in a prison wasn’t I? Maybe I’d see other cells. Hear other prisoners, or some prison guards. But no. Just the one room, the one cell. Somehow, I didn’t even spot a door out.

The only things I did see were the two figures with me, and both of them caused me to curse, if for very different reasons.

The first was a reedy, robe-wearing researcher exuding an aura of darkness, and seeing him made me want to cry.

Emin. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. He didn’t need to take you too. Evidently not warranting the same level of caution as I did, Emin stood on the other side of the bars, though still frozen by Warram’s skill.

Which naturally brought me to the second figure. The one whose very face sparked up the last few dredges of energy I had, if just to fuel the sheer sense of loathing I felt for him. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the man, but sadly, fate wasn’t so kind.

With a sliver of a smile and in the slimiest of voices, Warram whispered.

“Ah, how long I’ve waited for this moment. Welcome, Miss Astorius. Or I suppose that’s not your real last name, now is it, Protagonist?”