My hair whips around pushing onto my face. I have longer hair than most, and the stable boys were relentless in their teasing. It goes down to the middle of my back, it's uneven, from the time I awoke to it being cut off in my sleep. I'm too much a coward to try to even it out, so I leave it as a reminder. To not care for my physical appearance, to never trust someone, and to always, always, punch first and ask questions later. In this world, everyone only looks out for themselves.
I'm snapped out of thought as Artemis begins to lower in elevation. Her long, majestic, white feathered wings, are stretched out to their full wingspan. We glide slowly yet surely on a soft, warm breeze floating through the tree line until we land in front of an unbecoming stone tower.
Tower is a very gracious description that I will only use due to MM being one of my current benefactor's. Besides, if I tell others I was taught how to use magic in a collapsing pile of rubble, they will surely burn me at the stake. Instead... a tower. How delightful.
It has 2 floors, 3 if you dare to count the attic. The building is circular with a pointed roof and has a tattered, weathered light blue, white, and pastel pink flag with the Queen's noble family's crest, a bearded dragon, embroidered onto it. The bearded dragon's body and head are covered in small spines and it sticks it's tongue out mockingly. Or perhaps it's hungry, and that is how it feeds?? There are a concerning amount of stones missing from the tower, enough to where you can see into each floor, some areas almost looking like windows.
MM rubs a finger under her nose and a mixture of smugness and humiliation appears, "I like natural light", she lies. What a load of horse shit.
A jarringly beautiful mahogany wooden staircase wraps around the inside of the tower, carrying all the way up into the fully boarded attic. There is a metal pipe with a domed glass face jutting out of a square hole on the pointed roof.
Wrapped around the tower stretching out to about 6 acres theres a shoddy wooden fence. Sections are broken, some fully missing. There's 4 women consumed in early morning farm chores, feeding the livestock, the chickens, the cows, and there even appears to be a stable with 2 horses. Taking care of the fields of grass, wheat, and a large flourishing garden with more types of fruits and vegetables than Lucas has ever seen. They're radiant colors of blue, red, green, yellow, purple, and orange. "Wow, it's like a rainbow".
MM smiles sweetly, "Sometimes you're just so innocent, you've been too sheltered from the vastness of beauty this world can contain".
Lucas replies, "You know I can actually tell what a horse's diet is by the shape, texture, color, smell, and consistency of their shit." He flashes a beaming grin.
MM smirks and smoothly replies, "What about the taste?"
Swiftblade gasps, Fat Tree feels a cold, damp sweat start to pour down the back of his neck. They both snap to attention and freeze into their customary positions of respect shown towards only high ranking military officials. Their hands clasp behind their backs, they stand perfectly straight up, looking directly forward, their chins jutted out ever so slightly.
The figure slowly walks around them in circles. They can feel cold, calculative, eyes tracing their bodies, inspecting every sign of damage. At once, they hear a voice, frozen, chilling, it aches and rattles directly inside their minds, "What happened?"
Swiftblade feels like a knife is at her throat. She stutters, "T-the m-m-moonli-i-ight maid-den, she wa-." Swiftblade feels her mouth clamp shut, her jaw muscles ache, seizing up, and squeezing so tightly her teeth begin to bleed. The figure turns to Fat Tree.
Fat Tree knows what he does not know. And he does not know how to handle a situation like this. He is quite certain about that. If someone like Swiftblade, couldn't talk her way out, there wasn't a chance in hells that he could. Fat Tree simply shuts his mind off and allows his soul to speak, "I dunno what happ-". He's blasted through a tree by a strike he never even registered. He spits up blood.
The figure, looming, ominous, begins to ease. "Fine. I can use some pawns. Besides, you were outclassed weren't you, Lucille?" A snickering laughter fills their heads, leaving their ears ringing. "At ease."
Fat Tree gets up and waddles over to Swiftblade. He's scared, Fat Tree normally doesn't have to interact with anyone higher ranking than Swiftblade but the only times he has, have ended with "tests" of his regenerative powers.
Bravely, Swiftblade argues, "We were only briefed that Sir Luther Kahlin and the escapee would be there. This is intelligence's fault."
The figure removes her robes, revealing the startling presence of Mother Death. She is not wearing her infamous black, rainbow sheared robe, nor does she have any of the prized rings or necklaces she constantly has adorned. Yet, none the less, their eyes couldn't deny it, it was her.
Swiftblade's mind is racing, she thinks, "What in the hells is she doing here? How can she be here? Is it because the ritual went well? Did it go poorly?" Her mind digs and claws, thrashing for any sense of logic. Finally the only thing of sense comes to mind, "The escapee must be more important than I could have ever realized. But why? How?"
Mother Death's long silver hair has been braided into an intricate braid crawling all the way down to her hips. She has small, thin, oval glasses on. The clothes she's wearing could be found on any adventurer of a moderate wealth. Nothing special, yet everything is well kept and efficient. Gruff leather boots, multi seasonal tights, a light water proofed overcoat made of various furs. Swiftblade can't believe her eyes, to see such a divine, holy body, in such plain garb. She averts her eyes, feeling like her gaze alone is heresy.
Mother Death places a hand on Swiftblade's shoulder. She expects it to be ice cold, to freeze her in an instant, melting her mind and forcing her into submission to great evil. She braces for her doom, she earned it by failing this mission. And then to blame it on someone else, in front of Mother Death herself? She couldn't even take responsibility for her own actions, she's earned becoming one of Mother's death thralls.
Swiftblade feels like a warm blanket is placed over her very soul.
She fights off the welling tears, "M-mother. I take complete and total accountability for the failure of the mission." At this point Swiftblade is sobbing, "Please use us as you see fit. It would bring us utmost happiness to know that we could serve you in anyway possible."
Fat Tree has never seen any hint of emotion even flash through Swiftblade besides anger. She rages after those who wronged her, becomes irate at those who dare to question her, and never, never shows a sign of weakness. Anger or nothingness. That is all he's ever known. Fat Tree has never once had a shred of respect for the higher up's within Mother Death's army, nor much other than a generally low amount of gratitude for Mother Death herself. As he's grown used to the undeath, he realized that his revival wasn't exactly free, so that gratitude was merely turned into the simple thought, "Mother Death is smart enough to see a potential work horse in me. Thank you, I guess?" Fat Tree's brain works overtime to settle the homeostasis of his past beliefs and the current present. The only person he's ever offered to work with, due to her being upfront and telling Fat Tree that she would in fact not chop him up into bits over and over for her own amusement.
Fat Tree, drops to his knees, tears flowing openly upon his face. After a few moments, he manages to get out, "W-What she said." Pathetically, his face turns red after speaking.
Mother Death is in a state of absolute shock, horror, and awe. The emotions are unable to reach her face, decades of hiding even the faintest reaction have all but numbed her to any type of expression that isn't shrouded in calculative advantage.
She realizes it's been years since she's interacted with anyone other than her own personal attendants and the absolute highest ranking officials within her army. "And that thing", she thinks to herself in disgust. Mother Death says, "Don't worry my children, I have not come to punish you, rather to offer aid. This mission is of the utmost importance. Now we must quickly hurry. Our ride will leave without us if we don't."
Mother Death begins running through the woods.
Stunned, it takes about 10 paces before Swiftblade and Fat Tree immediately begin running after her. Their thoughts having departed this planet, they are left with empty skulls and blind, loyal obedience. Of their own fruition at that.
Mother Death shakes her head from side to side. Where in the hells did my army go wrong? The lower rankers have completely lost their damned minds. My intel said these 2 were supposed to be well trained elites. When I get back from this, I will show everyone directly to the 3 hells, and when I'm done this, kingdom won't even be recognizable. Having contented herself with a fun plan for the future, Mother Death begins to agonize over the present and how exactly she can pull this failed plan out of the trash and make it fly higher in the sky than even a dragon could. Heinous ideas flood to the surface, she grins as she schemes. She frowns as her weak legs suffer from fatigue and ache.
Where did I go wrong?
I casted my first spell without so much as a single flaw. Besides maybe the whole unknown goop vomit. I fucking healed Sir Kahlin. He had a hole in his stomach. He was literally spilling stomach acid all over himself.
"No, no, no, no, NO," MM yells. Her smiles have vanished and she has grown extremely impatient with me. She pinches her fingers between the bridge of her nose.
"I'm fucking trying hells dammit," I feel like a child who just learned what curse words are. But why in the world can I just not get this? She shows me rune after rune, the whole garbled history of spell casting and evocations and anything else in this forsaken, future pile of rubble, piece of horse shit called a wizard's tower.
"Just get the fuck out of my tower," MM snaps.
I storm out, I'm angry but mostly humiliated. I don't know what Sir Kahlin saw in me, but if MM ever did, she doesn't anymore. He's still in bed asleep, so I can't even ask him. Apparently recovering from a curse like that on Swiftblade's rapier, requires healing of the soul. Which can only be done on within the dreamscape. MM said it might be another week or even a month, it entirely depends on the strength of the soul. She tries reassuring me, "Luther is strong, he'll be back in no time." Well, I've been here for 4 days now, unable to even make the teeniest ball of light or movement of air or anything that is considered a "novice" spell and he still hasn't woken up.
Maybe we're both in the same boat. Trying to climb an unscalable wall we didn't even know existed until we ran face first into it.
The farmer women keep their distance from me. It hurts but most of them seem scared, so I just avoid looking at them and hope it helps. Maybe it's because I'm a boy. I shake the thought off. That won't help me now.
I find myself at the top of a hill, fresh air opening both my lungs and mind. I take a deep breath. I look down and almost jump out of fright. One of the farm women, no, now that I'm closer this is a girl, she must be a year or two younger than me. So why did I think she was a woman?
I blurt out, "I-I'm so sorry, I'll leave right away, I didn't mean to bother you."
As I start to move, she grabs my arm. "You didn't bother me silly." The depths of her eyes show me she must have experienced great pain in her life, yet the ease of her smile tell me she must have found herself here, at the farm. Maybe even right here, on this very hill.
She folds out a blanket and sits down pating beside her. I notice the basket next to her and see it's filled with fruit, bread, and cheese. "C'mon, sit."
I sit down.
She introduces herself, "It's nice to meetcha, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance before, but the other's told me I'd distract ya. Yet here ya are, taking my favorite spot. Now's we gotta share. My name is Ruby, what's yours?"
"My name is," I hesitate, I feel regret for the first time in my life for having to introduce myself with a boy's name, "Lucas. It's nice to meet you, Ruby."