@KingTyrant If she had to live trapped inside, she supposed the castle was nice enough. It had wide corridors, vaulted ceilings, and grand rooms that looked like they existed simply for show.
Nice enough, but she hated it.
Anoria ducked her head as she made her way through the halls, keeping the cap she'd stolen pulled down tight over her slightly pointed ears. Her glamour may have helped her appear human, but she'd rather avoid as much attention as possible, for as long as she could.
The trouble was, the castle had far too many turns and stairwells. She knew she was looking for someone in particular, someone the humans called a "king", but she had no idea where to find him.
Viktor Di'Veera was asleep most days at around this time, when the sun was beginning to disappear over the rolling, green hills of Serendipity. His duties would not allow him to stay awake any longer than that. His schedule had him awake at the crack of dawn, constantly monitoring foreign relations and trade, which in itself could put a man to sleep. It was work like that which consumed the good king's life. Still, he did not complain. It beat the constant fear of death he felt as a general.
In fact, most servants of the king were asleep when he was. In a way, that would make the task of getting into the mighty castle quite easy for the fae. Still... When the king slept, security thickened. The halls and corridors swarmed with guards, who wielded torches which illuminated every corner and crevice that came within range. This being, with her bright hair and complexion, would have quite a hard time escaping those lights whose only purpose was to sniff out intruders.
As she made her way through the halls, creeping about as she searched for her target, one of those loyal castle guards just happened to be rounding the corner right ahead of her. As she came within view, his torch lighting up her cloaked figure, his eyes widened. He shakily reached for his shortsword, pulling it from its sheathe and gripping the handle tightly. "Who goes there!? Stop where you are!" He demanded, gritting his teeth.
Anoria froze, startled, and slowly turned to face the owner of the voice. She kept her head lowered subserviently and made her voice quiver a bit as she squeaked, "P-pardon, sir, I was just- I'm new, see, and I was on my way to the kitchens, but I seems to have gotten m'self lost."
Her accent was thick, clearly of the lower districts of Arca, and nearly flawless in its mimicry. She tried to make herself appear smaller, hunching her shoulders and ducking her eyes.
As she hunched herself over, the guard raised a brow, frowning slightly in pity for his own actions towards the poor girl. It didn't take many book smarts to be a guard, and this man was clear evidence of that. Sheathing his sword, he walked over to her and took her by the arm gently, smiling. "Here... Allow me to lead you to the kitchen, m'lady." He said soothingly, walking off with her. He didn't seem to take into account that with how late it was, servants, let alone new arrivals would probably be sleeping at this time, rather than going to the kitchen. Still, expecting this type of insight from a guard would be expecting too much.
The two seemed to be walking for awhile. Down wide, empty corridors with the same flickering torches, which winded to and fro, and led into various rooms and such. Along the way, the guard stopped at a balcony that overlooked a waterfall which the castle sat beside, one of the king's favorite areas. And there he was, standing in the moonlight in his signiture emerald tunic, his blonde hair neatly brushed and his hands clasped behind his back. He reached over to the railing, where he picked up a cup of tea, taking a small sip. The guard, walking over with the girl, touched him on the shoulder. "Your majesty... What are you doing up at such hours?" He asked, the king turning to him with raised brows.
It was here that the king displayed his bushy beard and aged, yet wise features, a singlebraid hanging at the side of his face. He looked from the guard to the girl, his eyes lingering on her. Almost as if he saw something peculiar. Something suspicious. "I'm just having a breath of fresh air. A late night drink, as well. Would you like some tea, lad? How about your... Friend?" He narrowed his eyes at him. The guard's own eyes widened as he shook his head. "Oh, no, sir! You see... She's one of the new servants." He explained. The king just gave a single nod, slowly turning to her. "New servant, eh...? What's your name?" He asked her, taking another sip of his tea.
She glanced up, feigning shyness, and smiled at the guard softly. "Thank ya, sir. That's very kind," she murmured. She had to resist the urge to magick him, or perhaps simply slap him, when he took her arm.
It wasn't as though he was being overly forward, exactly. She just couldn't stand the feeling of human contact.
Magic flared to life in her veins as the guard suddenly steered her toward the man on the balcony. Majesty.
That was how they referred to their leaders, wasn't it?
Her skin tingled, her glamour threatening to fade with every moment. She kept her head lowered, nervous in earnest now. She was afraid if she met the man's eyes, she'd lose her tenuous control over her magic.
"Anoria," she whispered when he asked her name, eyes fixed on her feet. The scars between her shoulders ached.
The king raised a brow as he noticed her nervous state, not even willing to look him in the eyes, as it appeared. Most servants knew better, even though he wasn't a man to punish the help. He may have laid a move or two on a few in his time, but he'd never harm one. "Miss... I don't bite." He said softly, chuckling in clear amusement at the situation.
He crouched, mostly so he could see her face. He held out a hand for her to shake. "I'm Viktor. Feel freee to refer to me however you like. Leige, Majesty... Any fancy title will do. Though... Viktor's fine too. Not the most respectful, but eh, I'm not too strict about manners." It was true. He wasn't like some of these pampered Serenians, who always needed to walk with perfect, straight posture and eat with a napkin in their shirts...
"Now... Be honest with me for a little while." His expression turned stern. "You aren't really a servant here, are you?" He asked, as calm as he had been since the start. It was fairly obvious. This late at night, why would a new servant just be wandering the halls? Servants had a curfew. Also, most new servants came during the day, and had a tour of the castle beforehand. If she needed to go to the kitchen for whatever reason, she should've been able to find it. This whole scenario was fishy from the beginning.
Glancing at the guard, Viktor noticed the shock on his face. Had the king seen something he hadn't? This clear rouse set up by the uninvited guest made his blood boil, but as he reached for his sword's hilt, the king stopped him with an open hand and a shake of his head. Looking back at her, he huffed. "Look... I'm not angry. I'd just like to know what needed my audience so badly. Unless... You were looking to slice my throat?"
Anoria took his hand gently. Her touch was like air, like water, fluid and slightly chilled. She raised her eyes.
Her glamour fell away and she smiled.
No point in keeping up appearances anymore, it seemed.
A wave of her hand and the guard dropped to the ground- asleep, not dead. Her magic could beguile, but killing was both beyond her ability and it turned her stomach.
Her grip on Viktor's hand tightened, the breeze mounting into a storm. "No, my liege. I am no servant," she murmured. Her false accent had dropped away, replaced with the subtle, thrumming power of the Fae. "But I believe you have something that belongs to me."
The air around her seemed to thicken, heady with the smell of faerie magic. "I'm here to take it back."
Viktor's gaze turned into a glare, his own grip tightening as well. He looked to his side at the sleeping guard, a growl rumbling in his throat. "Fae magic... Should have seen that coming. What other tricks have you up your sleeves? Or is this all?" He taunted, feeling the air thicken, but being far from scared. He had seen death quite a few times in his life. This was definitely not the first.
He seemed genuinely confused when she spoke of stolen belongings. "What in blazes are you going on about? I keep no Fae artifacts in my castle. I have no use for such things." He told her bluntly. He frowned, looking down as he remembered a pair of beautiful, unbreakable Fae wings which had arrived to his castle yesterday afternoon... Surgically removed from an unknown Fae, and highly valuable. Was... This what she had come for?
"A travelling merchant arrived at my castle to sell me a pair of pristine Fae wings a day ago. If you are here to claim those, I invite you to look elsewhere. They'd be at the Arcane Catacombs by now. An old, accursed cave in the Highlands. I own no such wings." Although he told her this as sternly and truthfully as he could, he had a genuine feeling that this Fae wouldn't listen to reason.
Looking over her shoulder, he spotted an ornate, stone vase holding an assortment of flowers of all different colors. He'd hate to resort to blunt force trauma, but a bop on the head with such an object would probably put her to sleep long enough to put her in the dungeon for questioning. As Viktor did for all who threatened his and his wife, Qiana's livelihood. Twitching an index finger, the vase suddenly was tossed off of its podium, spiraling at the back of her head.
Anoria tightened her grip further, nearly crushing his hand in hers. "Do not lie to me, mortal," she hissed, digging her nails into his flesh. "Where are they?!"
She felt the vase careening toward her and released him, shoving him back with enough force to send him reeling, and whirled, throwing her hands up and calling wind to her aid.
She was almost fast enough. But she was too angry, too hurt, irrational and acting on instinct. Her magic exploded out of her sporadically, slowing the vase and sending it slightly off course, but not stopping it. The projectile hit her temple and she wavered, swaying in place.
"No..." Her knees started to buckle. "No, not again...please..."
Please...
Her body hit the ground, the magic thrumming through the air around her pulsed, then started to fade.
Viktor grabbed the railing for support as he was shoved. As she threw her hands up, he was sure that she'd block the vase, and then he'd be dead for sure. Though, this wasn't the case. The vase hit her in the temple painfully, and as she fell, he was quick to run to her side. Picking her up, he gazed at her face in deep thought. That was when an army of guards rushed in, swords drawn.
"An intruder! To the dungeon! Send her to the dungeon!" The captain of the guard snarled. Viktor held up his hand. "No. You will take her to one of the guest rooms. Make sure she's tied down good. I'll have a word with her in the morning." He told them. The captain of the guard's eyes widened. "Sire... Are you mad? We heard the voices... She threatened your life!" He exclaimed. The king shook his head. "I know what I'm doing. Take her to her room." He persisted.
The other guards, exchanging odd glances at one-another and murmuring in confusion, walked to the Fae and picked her up, hoisting her away. Viktor stood, watching them with a heavy sigh. He followed them to their destination, watching as they tied her down by her limbs in the fancy bed. No arms and legs, no fancy magic work. Arms crossed over his chest, he observed as they left back to their posts before heading to bed themselves. He needed his rest. After all, he had much work to do tomorrow.
Bright and early, almost as soon as the sun peaked its head over the Serenian landscape, the king had taken his place beside the Fae, a cup of tea in hand. He was dressed in his emerald armor, his huge, double-ended spear leaning against his chair. He looked out the window as he sipped his beverage, occasionally looking down at his attacker as he waited for her to wake.
She woke slowly, with a quiet groan and furrowed brow. She blinked, squirming against the light, and moved to sit up.
But she couldn't. She was heavy- bound.
No. Oh no, no. Nononononono!
Anoria screamed, trying to tear through the bindings with sheer strength; strength that seemed to be failing her, the world still sort of fuzzy around the edges from that blow to the head. She screamed again, thrashing, her breath sharp and panicked as she looked around with wide, frantic eyes.
"Let me go!" She gasped, then shrieked, "Let me go, let me go!!"
[Whoops! Double post, sorry!]
Viktor tried to get a word in before she could, opening his mouth as soon as he heard the groan to signal that she had woken. Unfortunately, she was already beginning to wail for freedom. Viktor sighed, continuing to sip his tea as he waited for her to stop. That didn't look like it'd be happening anytime soon. He eventually looked towards her with narrowed eyes, crossing his arms.
"All that screaming won't get you free anytime soon. So stop. You're disturbing the peace." He told her sternly, but with a calm tone to his voice. Leaning in, he placed his cup on the end table. "Look... The information I told you last night was no lie. Your wings are locked away in the Arcane Catacombs. It's an old burial ground, for the mages of Serendipity."
"People give gifts and sacrifices to the sorcerers of old, in hopes that the ghosts don't reek havoc on our civilization. Old superstitions, but people cling to them hard. If I'm right, that's where they'll be. Fae wings are lusted for by alchemists, who try and grind them up for magical potions. What better to give to the ghost of a dead mage? Fae wings are something of legend." He explained to her. Shaking his head, he frowned. "I'll let you go and grab them, but be warned, the dead do come to life in old tombs like that. That much is true."
Sitting up straight, he ran his fingers through his beard. "Assuming you won't try and have me killed, I'll be happy to accompany you on such a journey. I have a few abilities that may come in handy for such an occasion. I may be old, but I'm not useless." He chuckled, standing up. "Deal?"
Anoria only stopped screaming when he'd started speaking, staring up at him while her chest heaved with pants.
She wasn't even sure what she offered- she just knew if she said yes he would release her, and in her panicked state, that was all she need.
"Yes, yes, by the stars, yes! Just let me go, please!"
She could feel it, the terror running through her growing stronger the longer she was bound. Helpless.
They could take everything from her.
Viktor rolled his eyes, leaning in and undoing the binds on her wrists, before reaching down and undoing those on her ankles. "Calm yourself... You act as if I'm going to have you butchered." He grumbled. Once she was free, he made sure to keep his distance. The other night, she displayed quite well all that she was capable of doing to him. He did not want to be in the crossfire of that.
"We can take my two best horses. Leave down a trail on the mountainside. I have no desire to leave through the city... I'll attract far too much attention." He explained to her, before walking through the door. "Get your belongings together, and meet me in the throne room. A guard will show the way." He said as he left. Heading down the tower and into the throne room, a few guards saluted him.
He addressed them with a stern nod, letting them be at ease. "I'm heading out. I'll need two to accompany me for protection, as well as my horse and three others led from the stables." This was met with rapid nods, the guards running off to follow their given directions. "You." He pointed at his steward, standing near the throne. "Tell Qiana I'm heading out. Let Nasrin know to hold down the fort while I'm gone." He told him. "Aye, sire." The steward said, taking his leave.
The faerie vaulted from the bed once the bonds were undone, panting desperately as she wavered on her feet and had to throw her hand against the wall to steady herself.
As the human left the room, she hissed quietly, "If you ever bind me again, I will end you."
She sank to the ground once he'd left, shivering. Her back ached and her vision still swam. Why hadn't she healed properly yet? Her eyes flickered around the room as she slowly forced herself to her feet.
The door. The wood was braced with bands of dark metal. Iron.
Of course.
She needed to get away from the poisonous stuff. Still shaking, she braced herself and pushed the door open, whimpering quietly as the iron burned her skin.
The guard set to guide her to the throne room raised a brow at her body language. "What's the matter with you? Are you sick?" He stood there for awhile, examining her, and then letting his eyes drift slowly towards the door. "Iron... Poisonous to Fae, right? I know that much..." He huffed. "Unfortunately, Serendipity is full of iron. Serenians are weak to steel. We cannot use such a metal." He explained, but this was common knowledge.
Leading her down the corridor, he took a sharp right and slowly walked down the stairs. Heading down a diagonal corridor from there, he opened the door for her to reveal the giant, ornate marble throne room. In the middle of the huge, awe-inspiring chamber stood the king, dressed in his regal emerald armor, massive, deadly spear in hand. Beside him were two well-trained royal guards, their iron armor bulky and battle-scarred, with chainmail covering areas where plating did not.
Viktor looked up at her, giving a nod. "Are you ready to go?" He asked. The guard approached him quickly, a frown on his face. "Sire... The iron here in the castle... She's being poisoned. It's prevented her from recovering fully." He explained. The king, glancing at her, sighed and nodded. "I forgot... Are you well enough to leave?" He asked her, before looking at one of his accompanying men, realizing that they couldn't be around her while wearing so much iron. If they did leave, it really would have to be alone.
She managed to keep her feet under her, but her already snowy skin had a sickly pallor to of, and even the gold in her eyes seemed to have faded.
"I'm fine," she snarled weakly. "Just get me out of here."
Viktor blinked at her, waiting a moment before giving a nod. "Very well..." He nodded to the two guards, who walked off. He led the Fae outside, to an open area next to the stables. Four horses were waiting, the king picking a huge, muscular black horse in emerald armor. "Pick whichever one you like best... All perform around the same, though." He told her, climbing onto his horse.
"I hope you've rode before... It's a bit of a distance to the cave." He said, gripping the reigns in his hands. "We'll make it there quicker down this little trail, anyhow." He cracked the reigns, the horse whinnying before galloping out of the gate. Heading down the winding trail at blinding speeds, the king leaned forward, his hair blowing wildly in the wind.
It was a gorgeous day, not a single cloud in the sky, and the dark green fields alive with butterflies and such. The tall grass was nearly waist-high on an average man, flowers of all colors dotting the landscape. There was a nice, cool breeze, too. Not just from the speed of the horse. It was a wonderful day for a ride out on the open countryside, away from the busy city. Still, there was work to be done. And many dangers lay ahead.
The faerie almost sighed in relief when she saw the horses. Animals were good, simple. Creatures of the earth, at their core, as she was.
She gave a small nod to the human and moved toward the remaining three animals. A large bay charger bobbed his head at her, moving forward first when she raised her hand toward the horses.
Anoria smiled. "Peace, brother, and well met," she murmured, stroking his neck as he leaned into breathe in her face. She returned the greeting, teaching him her scent.
As Viktor mounted up, she went to work stripping the horse's tack, then swinging easily up onto his back. Without the saddle between herself and the horse, she could feel his breath, his heartbeat, and smiled again.
Even just this was enough to chase some of the iron sickness away.
Without a word, she tapped her heels against her mount's side, urging him after the dark horse Viktor had chose.
Viktor rode across the rolling hilltops, looking back every now and then to make sure his companion was behind him. "I don't believe you ever told me your name." He said, raising a brow as he slowed just enough to where he was side-by-side with her. He noticed the lack of a saddle, but chose not to comment on it. The Fae were beings of nature, so perhaps being without a saddle was just the way she preferred things.
After a bit of silence, Viktor pointed ahead to a small crack in the side of a tall hill which seemed to be miles away. "There... The Arcane Catacombs. Crawling with undead... That fancy magic of yours may prove useless against the most legendary mages in all of Serendiity. If need be, stay behind me." With that, he cracked the reigns yet again, the horse whinnying loudly before taking off at full speed for their destination.
"Anoria." She glanced at him. "I didn't lie before, that truly is my name."
Some fae were bound by their names, but she'd never felt such compulsion, so she saw no real reason to hide it.
"Anoria... There. Now I dont have to keep calling you, Fae." He joked, chuckling slightly. When his joke was met with silence, he frowned, continuing on to their destination. This one clearly held some kind of grudge against humans, or was just a rather stoic individual. Whatever the case, he didn't feel the need to provoke her.
In due time, they were at the cave. Viktor dismounted, pulling his spear off of his back and holding it at his side protectively. He ducked his head under the rocky overhang, having to practically crawl into the crack in the hillside to enter. When they were in, both of them were struck with a million different lights, some red, some green, some blue. All of them resonated from different jeweled garments and weapons, such as staffs, wands, and cleric's chimes. All of these sat on shelves carved into the stone walls, the stranger artifacts laced on pedestals here and there.
Obscured by their belongings were the dead, wrapped in ornate carpets, their bodies slathered in different gels to perserve their bodies. All of them were embalmed, as were all the dead, in order to perserve what no longer had life. "Stay quiet here... We wouldn't want to disturb the dead." Truth be told, they were probably doing that much just by being here. Still, the king treaded lightly, not daring to touch anything in the first chamber, his footsteps very slow and cautious.
It was only when they came to a long, winding hallway with multiple stairs leading downwards that he oened his mouth to speak again. "So... Who is this... Wing thief?" He asked out of sheer curiosity. The idea of a Fae without wings was an odd one. Just the fact that normal men could overpower such a powerful creature long enough to steal such a precious item, and that she had survived so long without such a vital piece of her being. "There has to be more to this story than you just mislacing such a thing... Care to tell?"
Anoria followed him in silence, content enough not to have to speak.
At least until he asked a direct question. She was already on edge from the overwhelming feelin of death that surrounded them, and she kept glancing back toward light and air, the horses waiting for them peacefully.
She scoffed, shaking her head. "Tell me how you recovered them," she responded bluntly instead of answering.
Viktor gave a huff. Was she not content with his answer from the night before? Or did the hit she took erase some of her recent memory? Either way, he cleared his throat before beginning to seak. "Everything I've told you is the truth and nothing but the truth. A merchant, along with a party of five arrived at my castle, trying to sell the wings for a hefty profit. I refused, and the merchant spoke of having the wings sent here as an offering to the ancient mages."
He looked ahead as he spoke, eyes darting in every direction as he remained cautious of their surroundings. "He looked to be a greedy little man... Scrawny, with a matted beard and rotten teeth. All of the boys in his party didn't look much better, honestly. For all I knew, he was selling a fake. But alas, he went off to bring them here. No fool would be stupid enough to offer fake Fae wings to the ancient mages." He shook his head, scoffing.
He stopped in his tracks as they entered a large, rectangular chamber, this one much larger than the first. More embalmed, wrapped bodies were shelved, along with all of their belongings as per usual. However, one altar stood in the center of the chamber, with a body enclosed in a glass chamber in the center. Around him were a number of magical candles, which burned a purple color and gave off thin, magical whisps which encircled the altar in a number of different directions.
"Damn... I forgot about this..." He readied his spear. "It's a security measure... We can't avoid it... If we walk in, the candles will go out and the whisps you see there will possess any corpses in the room, including the one in the box. I imagine that body is of someone important, or else all of this wouldn't be necessary. Important usually means powerful. I hope you're ready for a fight." He looked over at her, raising a brow.
Anoria listened with a soft frown. The description of the men wasn't familiar, but she was willing to absorb any information she could.
At his warning, she just nodded sharply. Necromantic magic wasn't her strong suit, and she was cut off from the sky here, but she would manage.
Viktor, with a heavy sigh, took a step into the booby-trapped room. At that moment, the extremely sensitive flames of the candles were snuffed by the air that hit them as Viktor walked in, the whisps that accompanied the flame suddenly flying towards any dead body they could find. As they entered the bodies, Viktor watched as they stood, dust falling off their grey, rotted skin, bones exposed here and there and their eyes glowing a light purple color.
Suddenly, the glass box in the center burst oen, the final corpse rising up, this one much larger than the others. They all rose, seemingly levitating in mid air. Suddenly, they were adorned in their attire and artifacts, all which lay with them beside their tombs. By the time their feet hit the stone floor again, they were dressed in dusty, black robes and headwraps which obscured their skeletal faces. The largest of them all wore a cylindrical headdress, extending his hands out in front of him as he began levitating once more.
Electricity suddenly connected his palms, all of his allies wielding staffs which spewed similar electric magic. Viktor, spinning his spear, gave a snarl. "Come on, then! Have me fried!" He taunted. At that moment, the leading mage fired off a stream of electricity, aimed directly for him. Viktor dodged to one side, a mage rather close to him attempting to bring a charged staff down on his head. Before he could do so, Viktor thrust his spear up into his skull, the blade poking out of the top of his head. The mage's eyes went black, dying right then, impaled on the spear.
Viktor let the corpse fall, eyes widening before dodging an electric orb launched by another nearby mage. The leading mage looked upon Anoria next, lifting his hands before firing the same lethal electric stream at her. A mage next to him launched a fast-moving orb of electricity as well, hissing evilly as he did so.
For a moment the faerie simply didn't move. Her eyes were closed, head bowed slightly and arms hanging loosely by her sides, palms facing out.
Then her head suddenly snapped up, eyes flaring gold, and she raised her hands with a wordless shout.
The earth in front of her exploded, twisting, gripping roots rising up to weave a shield around her while their thorny brethren lashed out like whips to strike at the walking dead, tearing clothes and gray flesh easily.
Their electricity spells seemingly bounced off her shield of roots and brambles, merely singeing the wood. The undead mages took slow steps backwards at the sight of the thorn-covered vines, screeching out in pain as they were ripped wide open. Their wide, gaping wounds did not bleed, their insides brown and congealed from decay.
Viktor made a quick sprint from the leading mage as the others fell in a heap, looking to lunge straight for the heart. The mage suddenly fell through the floor in a circle of electricity, reappearing right behind Anoria. Viktor looked over his shoulder, eyes widening. "Anoria! Get out of the way!" He shouted at her, fists tightening around his spear.
He watched as the mage lifted his hands, both sparking violently. He quickly brought both down, preparing to electrocute her. Viktor needed to think fast... He could go for a lightspeed javelin, but there was too much of a risk that she'd be hit. He really hoped she had a trick up her sleeve, because as of currently, he had nothing.
His warning gave her just enough time.
In a whirl of blue and silver, Anoria spun to face her assailant and grabbed his wrists, hissing at the feel of decay.
She snarled, eyes old and powerful. "What is dead should stay dead," she hissed, and sent a pulse of pure fae energy from her fingertips into the reanimated corpse.
The mage struggled against her grasp, growling hatefully as it prepared to send a stream of electricity at her. It was stopped dead in its tracks as she pumped its body full of Fae energy, screeching in ain as its body suddenly popped like a balloon, rotten body parts flying all over the room. Luckily, no blood to stain anyone's skin. Just like that, silence took over, this room now cleared of any undead mages who were to guard whatever lay ahead.
Viktor visibly flinched as the corpse popped, blinking at Anoria cautiously as he jabbed one point of his spear into the floor. It took him a bit before finally seaking, allowing her to calm herself after being just inches away from electrocution. "If I would've known you could do that, I wouldn't have tossed that vase at you back in Serendipity Castle." He mused.
Looking towards the other end of the room, he spotted three seperate spiral staircases leading down. Viktor frowned... For all he knew, they'd be digging through these tombs for days. "Well... They're your wings. Pick your poison." He gestured towards all their available options. Each would surely just lead them into more death traps, that he knew. But they'd never finish their search if they just stayed here, where it was safe.
Anoria curled her lip, disgusted, and shoved a bit of rotten remains away with her foot.
She looked back at Viktor and quirked an eyebrow. "Have you never seen a Fae's power? Once you called us gods, human."
She turned to move past him, looking at the stairs. "Left," she murmured after a moment. She really had no basis for that, but she sounded confident.
Viktor gave a nod at her choice, descending the leftmost staircase. "To be fair, you are missing a vital piece of yourself. Not to mention that your kind isn't nearly as... Prominent, in Serendipity as you once were." He said with a slight sigh, not wanting to delve too far into that fact. It truly did upset him that whatever majority presence the Fae once had in the ancient land, modern day Serenians had snuffed out quite well. The Fae, ancient beings of nature, learned firsthand that, over time, as humans upheaved the forests, broke away at the mountains for precious ores, hunted beasts into extinction... They learned that with that, their time had come to pass, as unfortunate as it truly was.
"I'm sorry... If I could rewrite what's been done, I would. I'm not like my ancestors... I myself am a man of nature much like you." He said after descending the stairs in silence for quite some time. "I would've liked to see Serendipity in its purest state... I imagine without the cities, and war... Pollution, mining, human magic... This land would be breathtaking. Alas, a being such as yourself is seeing it in its current state, and... I can't imagine the heartache." He shook his head. "But that's humanity, for you. We see a world like this, and all we can come up with is ways to industrialize it."
By the time he was done with his tirade, they were at the bottom of the staircase, looking upon something astonishing. They stood at the top of a huge, cylindrical chamber, tombs like the ones they had seen in the previous two rooms lining every inch of the walls, stretching down into a pit of darkness. A fall from this height would pulverize, surely. Along the walls also rested a huge set of wooden steps, leading all the way down into the darkness. Viktor, looking upon the scene, made an exhausted face. "Well... Ladies first." He looked back at her.
Anoria didn't feel the need to respond to his take on the current state of her world. He wasn't saying anything she didn't already know.
With a quiet sigh, she eyed the new set of stairs warily and tilted her head to the side slightly. "And here I though the bravery of man was your only real redeeming feature," she scoffed quietly as she moved forward.
Viktor could do nothing more than sigh at her scathing remark, finding it more productive simply not to respond. She had a good reason for her attitude towards his kind, after all. Still... It became more and more tiring to fight alongside her, as she had no real notion of friendliness to give towards him. The worry of her leaving him to die down here once she had her wings was fresh in his mind, as well. Perhaps the smarter choice would've been keeping her in the dungeon and sending his best men after the wings... However, it was too late to regret his choices. He was already here, deep in the catacombs of mages past.
As they descended the massive, winding staircase all the way to the bottom of the cylindrical chamber, Viktor could've sworn he heard groans and faint whispers, all coming from the darkness that shrouded the bottom of the chamber. He estimated that at any time now, more of the dead would be here to wreak havoc on their quest. "You hear that? Keep up your guard." He said sternly, gripping his spear tight as they went. With every open tomb he passed, he kept a close eye on the cobweb-covered, dusty bodies that lay within. At this point, any corpse in this place was a serious threat.
However, it didn't take long at all for the source of the sound to show its ugly face. The groans turned into shrill, piercing screeches, three figures in black, tattered robes flying up from the shadows with skeletal wings. In fact, their entire bodies were nothing more than decrepit bones, the spaces between the boney fingers of the wings being filled in with dark magic. They wielded staffs which were much taller than their own bodies, made of rusty iron with ornate chimes at the end. The chimes pulsated with vile, dark magic of the same reddish-purple hue of their wings, screeching out once more before launching three geysers of the energy right at them.
Viktor's eyes widened, shoving Anoria out of harm's way before rolling from another geyser aimed right at him. Once the attacks faded, Viktor spun his spear in his hands, the entire weapon lighting up brightly. "Close your eyes, if you value your sight!" He warned her. He aimed the spear, tossing it like a javelin at the skeletal being right in front of him. As it whizzed through the air, it resembled a perfectly straight bolt of lightning, colliding with the bones of his target and exploding in every direction, some of the bones charred and glowing with hot embers. The spear stuck into the stone of the wall right in front of them, the weapon's glow fading.
Viktor reached forward to bring back his weapon telekinetically, barely having time to react as the remaining skeletal figures disappeared in two seperate clouds of black. One reappeared right beside him, thrusting its staff into his chest, which sent him tumbling back into Anoria. The other reappeared at her side, screeching loudly as it formed a magical blade of dark energy, long enough to strike them both down, if it saw fit. Raising the blade high above its head, it brought it down hard and fast, Viktor instinctively jumping to his feet to escape the blow. Alas, the skeleton was too fast. He'd be caught by the blade regardless.
"Get off me!" Anoria shrieked as the mortal man shoved her out of the way, not quite registering what he was doing until it had happened.
Wonderful. More human dead. She made a noise of disgust and raised a hand to shield her eyes, then they were on them again.
With an almost catlike hiss, she staggered as Viktor was sent careening into her and braced his arm with her hand, proving to be much stronger than her slight frame would suggest. Duck, turn, hand raised to attack-
She could kill the thing now, crush the magic that animated it in her palm like so much spare rubble. But if she did, it would have time to bring down its blade, and the human would die.
Cursing herself, Anoria flung her hand out, shouting in a language that made the ears ring and magic buzz and crackle through the air. The blade was knocked from the reanimated creature's hand, and its attention turned to her.
The undead being did just that. As its blade was sent spinning through the air, off into the darkness of the chamber somewhere, its eyes landed on her. Without wasting any time, it waved its skeletal fingers, a hand made of pure, dark magic forming in mid-air. It flew out towards her, aiming to grasp around her arms and torso and fling her into the pit.
Meanwhile, the other challenger behind Viktor formed its own magical blade, thrusting at the king in hopes of catching him off-guard. This proved to be a failure, however, as Viktor rolled over the attack and stood at the skeletal mage's side. Raising a hand, he gave a grunt of fury as his spear, embedded in the wall across the pit, came flying back towards him.
The tip of the weapon went straight through the mage's spine, snapping it like a twig as both halves tumbled into the darkness, where the remains of the skeleton from earlier still rested. He caught the spear as soon as his opponent was dead, his attention snapping towards Anoria, who was in clear danger. Still, where he stood, he wouldn't be able to help her in time. This was her move.
The faerie simply stared the necromantic construct down, evidently unconcerned. "Return to where you came from, abomination," she hissed, and flicked her fingers at it.
Bone and shadow shivered, then warped, snapping and exploding outward.
Anoria collapsed to her knees, drawing in sharp breaths. Despite her bravado, that had taken a lot out of her.
Viktor watched as the skeletal mage's bones began to tremor with magic, then crack and splinter here and there. Covering his face, he watched as the mage's spell was destroyed, then his own frame was sent flying in bits and pieces, all around them. Once the dust had settled, he opened an eye to see Anoria, knelt down and weakened from her own actions.
He himself stood, walking over to her and holding out a hand. "Are you alright?" He asked. He knew better than to try and be friendly with her. He knew the response he'd be given. But why allow their relationship to be so apathetic, and risk her stabbing him in the back? It'd be better for him to befriend this being while he still could.
Looking down the stairs, he noticed a doorway at the very end, illuminated by what looked to be torches with blue flames. "I'd hate to think what horrors wait for us down there..." He shook his head, continuing down. Luckily, no more undead stood in their path, and Viktor was able to make his way down and through the doorway with no issue. Beyond the door, a long, stone bridge with coffins lining the floor underneath lay before them, the way lit by more blue torches.
He walked over the bridge cautiously, spear at the ready as he looked from side-to-side, expecting something to jump from one of these coffins at any moment. Upon closer inspection, some of the coffins had already been opened. The smell of rot was fresh, too. Did... Someone make it here before they could? The thought caused his brows to furrow... Possibly grave robbers. "I have a bad feeling the undead aren't our only worries." He told Anoria.
The faerie got to her feet, ignoring his hand but not scoffing at him. She was too tired for that.
She followed in silence, eyes darting around warily and every sense ok high alert. A small nod was the only response she gave to his assessment- she couldn't exactly say he was wrong.
Viktor continued to the end of the bridge, which stretched for quite awhile down the long, cylindrical chamber. At the end, there were charred, rotten bodies everywhere, as well as a staircase that led straight down into what appeared to be a room similar to the one that greeted them at the start of the catacombs. "Well... I guess we know where those corpses went..." He murmured, looking at the burnt bodies that littered the floor around him.
It brought up the question... Who had infiltrated this place without triggering the traps at the start? Were they dealing with a mage as well? Perhaps a pyromancer? Glancing at Anoria, he knew fairly well that there was really only one way to find out. Decending the stairs, he grasped his spear defensively, eyes narrowing at the only light in view, a bright red at the end of the staircase. Other than that, they were surrounded by darkness.
As they entered the final chamber, Viktor stopped in his tracks immediately, completely still. The room was empty, all except for certain items resting on pedestals against the walls, surrounded by glass display cases. There were also items resting on bookshelves, holding ancient spell tomes and such. However... That wasn't the focal point here. The thing that drew his gaze most was the figure shuffling through books at the corner of the room.
Dressed in a long, fur-lined coat, his white hair slicked back and a rapier visible on his hip, he'd pull a book from the shelf, skim the pages and then toss it to the side. Books were beginning to pile behind him, making Viktor wonder if he was looking for something in particular, rather than just aiming to loot the place entirely. Obviously, this room had very valuable items in it. Just as this thought crossed his mind, the man spoke. "Ah... There you are." He murmured in a raspy voice.
He had grabbed a book with a dragon hide cover, tracing a line of text in the book before waving a finger over a glass display case beside him, which held something familiar... Fae wings. Suddenly, the glass lit up bright blue before exploding, glass flying in every direction. The man closed the book, throwing it to the side before walking in front of the display case, a finger tracing the diamond-like wings.
Viktor realized that the bookshelf was nothing more than a diversion... It was used to open the case, which was most likely enchanted to be unbreakable other than by magical means. He was taken out of his thoughts by the man's voice, which addressed him and Anoria directly. "If you're here to stop my excavations, I'm afraid you're too late." He picked up the wings, examining both closely for any imperfections, or evidence of them being false.
"Fae wings... Indestructible. Full of immense power and energy. Imagining what I could do with such a thing is almost... Overwhelming." He added, tucking both under his arm before turning to them. Viktor was taken back by his eyes... Blood red, with milky white irises, no pupil to be found. Was this man blind? Was he even human? Viktor's reaction prompted a chuckle from the man, who shook his head. "That look is almost comical at this point... You mortals all react the same. Have you never seen Hell incarnate before? You poor thing."
A demon... Things started to become more clear now. Viktor's brows furrowing, he got into a fighting stance, spear at the ready. "By order of the king, I demand you hand those wings over, or risk whatever harm may befall you if you refuse." He said sternly. The man scoffed with a stone expression. "Harm? Me? You and what army, fool? Do you expect to bring me to my knees with two alone? You and a little girl, no less..." He mocked. Taking a closer look at Anoria, then down at the wings under his arm, he smirked. "Ah... I see. These belong to you, hmm? Unfortunate."
He turned back to the bookshelf, turning one of the books into a horizontal position. This caused the wall with the now broken display case to turn inward, exposing a cavern that led outside, no doubt. "I bet things just got quite personal, yes? Well... I'm afraid I cannot feel much sympathy for your situation. I have my own quest. My own purpose that these wings will help fulfill." He told her, glancing over his shoulder. "You can find me in Hyoite, if that's any consolation. I am known as Saevic." Viktor was seething with rage at this point.
"Last warning... Give us the wings!" He growled, spinning his spear threateningly. The demon turned towards them, taunting with a simple finger gesture. "Come, then. Pry them from my cold, dead hands." He said without much emotion. Viktor charged forward, preparing to toss his spear. Before he could, Saevic swiped the air with his arm, a small wave of fire flying out towards Viktor, which sent him onto his back.
The emerald green cloth of his armor was singed slightly, as well as his hair and beard. The impact had incapacitated him for a moment, and Saevic was already unsheathing his rapier. "If you're smart, you'll stay back." He said to her.
Anoria felt a burning tingle start up in the scars on her back moments before the demon came into view. She knew immediately what the creature was, her own magic pulsing and roiling in her blood, rebelling against the hellish presence.
But she hardly paid it any mind. Her wings. Her soul was within reach, but she couldn't get to them.
A pained cry tore from deep within her chest and she lurched forward, not even able to hear the words the demon and he human king exchanged. Every part of her being vibrated with tension, eyes fixed on the glittering wings tucked beneath Saevic's arm.
The fire served to break her from her trance and she whirled nimbly out of the way. Her heart lurched quite without her permission as she saw the mortal fall, singed if not burned.
No, no she didn't have time for this. She spun to face the demon, a snarl curling her lips. "Give. Them. Back," she hissed. Power gathered around her, a silvery blue glow that lit the air around her and made the whole area crackle with tension. She extended a hand and wind began to swirl around her fingers, coalescing into a miniature whirlwind in her palm.
Saevic raised a brow at her, other than that, unfazed, even as he looked upon her magic which so easily disposed of the corpses before him. "You're no more threatening than the human, fae." He said, somewhat mockingly, despite his cold, stoic tone. He flipped the rapier so that the blade pointed towards the floor, impaling it just slightly. The stone underneath the blade sizzled and turned a bright orange as embers burst from it.
"Here... Entertain me, while you're all fired up." With that, two dark red circles expanded at his sides, towering demons in charred armor rising from the floor, wielding heavy battleaxes. Saevic gestured towards Anoria with his Rapier, eyes full of hate. "Maul her." He said simply. Both of them roared out, the cracks between their armor pieces igniting, embers flying into the air as they charged at her.
At this moment, Viktor began to wake from his unconscious state, seeing what was happening with wide eyes. Standing as fast as he could, he threw his spear at one of the demons, the weapon striking it in the shoulder, poking through the other side. It grunted, being stunned and knocked back, but not reacting much more than that. Turning its head towards Viktor, it ripped the spear from its body before throwing it back towards the king, who stopped it with his telekinesis.
Smirking, he grabbed the spear, twirling it a couple times. "Come on! I've dealt with worse!" He taunted the demon, who made a charge at him next. Raising its axe to strike down Viktor, the king rolled out of harms way, behind his attacker and jabbing it in the lower back. This threw it off-balance, trying to throw a wild elbow back at Viktor, only for him to back-step and avoid.
Through all of this, Saevic watched, clearly growing bored. His minions had this handled... He however, needed to be off. With that, he continued down the rocky tunnel. He knew Anoria would follow... And there, he would put her in her grave. But not here. No... If she was to fight for her wings, he was going to make it a game. A sick, twisted game of his design.
Anoria screamed, throwing her wind after the retreating their before she turned her attention to the demons. The silver-blue glow around her pulsed, and suddenly she grabbed Viktor's arm, pulling the mortal to her and turning his face into her shoulder.
"Hold onto me, close your eyes, and breathe shallow," she warned, and instant before her power exploded outward. A small bubble of light enclosed the two of them, shielding them from the wave of destruction that rippled out from her, easily decimating anything in its path.
There was a reason mortals had once called her people gods.
Viktor flinched as he was grabbed by his fae companion, thinking that a demon had gotten a hold of him instead. He did as instructed, knowing how powerful she was. Hopefully more powerful than the armored brutes before them, he thought. Closing his eyes, he stayed close to her and relaxed his tense muscles, taking slow, shallow breaths as her energy exploded outwards, decimating everything there was to decimate in the room.
As the demons, who were readying a double attack at them charged, the wave of energy hit them head-on first. It was no contest, their armor being peeled off and shattered against the walls of the chamber. Underneath were just intense, white-hot flames which were easily snuffed. The display cases were reduced to wood splinters and broken glass, the bookshelf wasn't even safe, breaking into tiny pieces as the energy crashed against it. The texts that scattered the floor flew in every direction, the wave powerful enough to rip the pages from the hard, leather covers.
Once the destruction ceased, Viktor wasted no time in sprinting towards the tunnel. "Bastard! Running from a mortal and a single fae!? What kind of hellspawn shows such cowardice!?" He taunted as he ran down the curving, jagged exit. Upon reaching the end of the tunnel, he was greeted by a small overhang, which gave a nice view of the Serenian landscape, beyond the catacombs.
It was here that Viktor noticed it. A trail of flying, glowing-red ashes, heading far enough that Viktor already had a hard time seeing them. There was their assailant, gone with their prize. "Damn it all!!!" The king snarled, jabbing his spear into the ground, reeling back and cracking his fist against the nearby rock wall. It wasn't just his failed attempts to reconcile with the fae that annoyed and frustrated him. It wasn't just his failed promises to her that made his blood boil. That demon had infiltrated a sacred area for the Serenian peoples, and made a mockery of his authority.
Taking a moment to calm his heated demeanor, he shook his head as he panted, sinking to one knee in defeat. "He's gone... We won't catch him, at this rate. Not in a day's time, at least..." He said somberly, looking up at her. "Hyoite... He said he was headed to Hyoite. Right? We'll find the demon. And this time, we're sending an army to his doorstep." He gave a nod. "For now... We must return to the castle... Regroup."
Anoria nearly collapses, gasping, as Viktor tore away from her. She hadn't even realized she was using the human for support until he was gone. Her breathing was ragged and she winced as each exhale tore at her chest like jagged shards of glass.
Once upon a time an outburst like that would have barely phased her. But she was missing a piece of herself, and the toll it took on her body was great.
Gradually, she managed to climb to her feet and follow the mortal, breathing deeply and letting the clear air heal her some as she stepped out of the tunnel. Her sharp eyes managed to pick out the trail of ashes before flicking to the obvious distressed mortal.
She was empty. She had been so close, and now...
Her knees buckled and she tried to make the collapse appear more graceful than it was, a conscious decision rather than her strength simply giving out. "The castle..." She took a deep breath, eyes closed. "Very well."
The trek back to the castle was longer than expected, and completely silent. The king was disheartened that their goal had slipped right through their hands, and his expression displayed that sorrow perfectly. He was determined to get the wings in one way or another, but as of now, all they could do was find a bed and rest. Hyoite was far from here, and they would not be able to make that journey on such low energy, and with no support or rations.
Once they arrived at the castle, the first thing Viktor did was have one of his advisers arrange a room for her. The least he could do as of now was to give her a nice place to sleep... It's all he could do, really. For the rest of the evening, Viktor sat at his throne and indulged in wine, needing a nice drink to relieve the stress he was feeling. Not only did Viktor break a promise to her, but he had let a demon stomp all over his kingdom's sacred legacy... It was hard to swallow for any sensible Serenian man.
The next morning, before Anoria had even woken, there were a number of cavalry officers standing before the king in his throne room, who spoke to them about the events of the previous day, which he had yet to disclose with anyone, really. "I cannot, and will not allow a monster such as a demon to trample over the dead of Serendipity for his own selfish reasons, and not do anything about it! Gentlemen, we will ride on Hyoite and slay that man wherever he resides!" He told them, everyone looking at each other nervously. They were used to slaying men... The occasional goblin, but demons? This was something else entirely.
Giving their king a salute, he gave them a nod and gestured them to go. "Gather only your best men, as well as your best horses! We must be equipped for harsh environments, so dress well!" He called to them as he went. Sitting back in his throne, he looked ahead, a grumble rising in his throat. Hyoite... Home of Rk'stl and his barbaric troll followers. He wouldn't be too surprised if he ran into a few. Besides, if one did strike him and his men, he'd have enough fury in his heart for them to fight and win.
He remembered it like it was yesterday... The way the trolls so violently charged across the land, raping and pillaging. He was thankful to have been the one to push the advance back and save his home, but troll camps still existed all over the land, even outside of Serendipity. He was constantly reminded by this that he hadn't destroyed the trolls, just sent them farther below on humanity's list of concerns. Shaking his head at these thoughts, he placed a hand on a nearby adviser's shoulder.
"Rations... Go and get a caravan or two ready. I'd rather not die from starvation in the tundra." He said to him. The man bowed, rushing off for a side door to the stables. Viktor tapped the throne with his fingers, huffing as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was tired... Even his deep and interrupted sleep from the night before wasn't enough to prepare him for this... Was Anoria even awake at such an early hour?
She didn't sleep anymore, not really. At least not naturally.
She could, but she didn't need to. She didn't like letting her guard down that way, not after what had happened the last time she had done so. But true exhaustion was enough to render even her unconscious, at least for a short while.
When Anoria came to, she made her way back to the throne room. A simple glamour was enough to shield her from most mortal eyes, and it wasn't too difficult to maintain even in her weakened state. She settled herself into a corner and simply watched, eyes flicking about like a bird of prey.
She waited until most of the commotion had calmed down before making herself known. The glamour was barely more than a twist in the Veil- if she called attention to herself, people would be able to see her.
"That is an awful lot of preparation for one man."
Viktor visibly jumped at her voice, looking up at her with a slight grunt. He stood, walking over to her. "It's not the man I'm worried about... It's the tundra. A land as frigid and unforgiving like that isn't for the faint of heart. I estimate at least a third of my men will die of exposure... As much as I hope for everyone to make it out safely..." He shook his head, looking off to the side.
He wasn't downplaying Saevic's abilities, by any means. He got a very good taste of what he was capable of back at the catacombs, but still... If the tundra itself weakened them, then what chance did they have against the demon? "I fear that he's harnessing whatever magical properties your wings possess as we speak. Time is of the essence, so if you have any readying of your own to do, I suggest you do it."
As Viktor turned from her, he began walking towards his bed chambers to change into his armor. The process uually didn't take long with the help of servants, but he wanted to be out as soon as possible, as he had earlier stressed to Anoria. Fear was congesting in his mind regarding the wings. Sure, this was about reclaiming her property, but there was so much more involved...
The aformentioned pride being stepped on, with the demon having so shamelessly defiled a tomb and ancient relics belonging to the Serenians, and then leaving without as much as a trace. But even that didn't compare to the ugly thought of just what Saevic could do with an artifact so precious, so mystical. What was he planning to do, even...?
The question left a bad taste in his mouth, and it was here that he realized how likely it was that the world was in serious danger. This wasn't as much about reclaiming what was stolen, or getting revenge for broken pride anymore. This was a fight to keep order and balence in the world, which was dwindling with every passing second.
OOC: This thread will end after your next post, and we'll move into part 2 in the Sionad Tundra.
[OOC: gotcha, but how do you feel about giving it one more quick back-and-forth?]
"Why do it then?" Anoria asked with a tilt of her head. "Why risk your men on such a mission? Mortal lives are fragile- I know you reproduce quickly, but surely losing so many at once would be a blow."
She didn't really expect an answer- or care if any were given, honestly. She'd learned to interact with humans in a way that made her seem interested, if only to lower their guards a bit, make herself seem more approachable.
Once she may have actually listened to him, but that time was gone. Her only concern was her wings, the missing piece that she still felt with every heartbeat, the pain almost keener now than it had been when she first lost them, now that she had been so close and still hadn't managed to reclaim them.
She watched the mortal king walk away, then gave a mental shrug and followed. She had no real "readying" of her own to do, save gather strength...
Well. There was an idea.
She hesitated outside the door he'd enter, neither really knowing or caring if he knew she was there. She closed her eyes and breathed, opening up a part of herself that had long been neglected, allowing her abilities to spread, to feel the energies around her, the emotions.
Pride. Anger. Frustration. Worry, or possibly fear. Quite the cocktail emanated from Viktor, and she breathed deep. Negative emotions- mostly- but powerful. If she could manage it, that would give her strength.
But it had been so long since she'd done this. Did she even truly remember how? Instinct would only take her so far.
With a sharp breath and a mental shrug, she glided into the room. She may as well try, she hardly had anything to lose.
Viktor didn't look back at her as he walked to his bed chambers. Rather, he stopped at the door, a heavy sigh accompanying his actions. "Because I fear we're in a lot more danger than you realize." That was his simple answer, opening the door and entering before closing it behind him. From there, servants flocked to his sides, helping him get undressed from his casual garb.
As they began dressing him in the emerald cloth and chainmail, he heard the door open behind him. Knowing exactly who it was, he simply rolled his eyes. Whatever... At least he was covered when she did trot in. Without much hesitation, he went in deeper detail about his conclusions. "Fae wings are powerful artifacts. Their material is not only tougher than diamond... It has magical properties. Properties capable of a lot of damage, if put in the wrong hands. What hands are wronger than those of a demon?"
As he explained himself, he looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowed as the servants began strapping the individual pieces to his arms, legs, and torso. "No matter how many men get hurt or die, or how risky this operation is, we still have to pursue it. I'd rather 10 or 12 die, than my entire kingdom. Or all of Le'raana, for that matter." He told her. Once they were done, he walked to the corner, retrieving his spear and examining the blade.
"Your wings are merely a byproduct of saving millions. That's what it comes down to, in the end." With that, he walked past her, out the door, and into the throne room once more.
This man did not like to hold still.
Gritting her teeth, the faerie followed after him again. "You need not lecture me about their properties- they are my wings, you may recall." With a sharp breath, she ran a hand through her hair and demanded, "Will you hold still a bloody moment? If you're so concerned with me gathering strength, at least give me a moment to do so."
He turned towards her sharply, his eyes narrowed and his teeth gritting. She wouldn't be able to see this sign of frustration, however. "What, Fae? Have I not answered all of your questions appropriately? Is there something I haven't explained thus far?" He asked her, the tone of his voice a dead giveaway of his annoyance and frustration with her. Calming himself, he shook his head, approaching her closely.
"Anoria... Listen. Time is of the essence. We need to leave as soon as possible. Right now, we're wasting time. People's lives hang in the balance, and so do your stolen wings." He said. She was a nagger. And she wasn't pleasant to be around. However, he remembered his promise vividly. "You need my help, Anoria. That demon will rip you to shreds without me and my men, and that's a promise. No Fae magic in the world can overcome Hell itself."
He took a moment before he continued again. "Similarly... I need your help. All things considered, I'm far weaker than you." He looked out of a window that overlooked the rest of the city. "I know the disdain you hold for my kind... I understand how you've been wronged. But I hope that somewhere in your heart, you have enough care for my kind to prevent that bastard from ending our species entirely." He knew she wouldn't appreciate the gesture, but he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Let go of the past. And look towards the future. We need each other." He said those words with a stern expression, hoping she'd have a different response for once. One that wasn't so... Cold.
Truthfully, Anoria was paying very little attention to what he said. She heard him, but didn't bother to concern herself unduly with his words.
She was more focused on the hand on her shoulder. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. She snapped her hand up to grab his wrist, sliding her fingers under the grooves of metal until they were touching skin to skin.
Her eyes closed and she breathed deep, taking a few moments to absorb as much of his most powerful emotions as she could. Mostly they were negative, though that was unsurprising; a quick jolt of energy, but not something that would truly sustain her.
It had been some decades since she'd done this, but she thought she was well-practiced enough that he shouldn't notice much of a change. Perhaps a slight tingle from where they touched, a tension in the air, but that was all.
"There." She stepped back from him, jerking her hand away as though he burned. She was lucky Serenians still refrained from using iron in most of their armors. "I will admit we have...use for each other," she said coolly, then smirked.
"By your leave, Your Majesty." She bowed rather sarcastically, then turned on her heel. "I will meet your men when you begin the march."
Viktor felt his skin crawl as she made skin contact, his throat going dry throughout whatever process she was performing on him. However, almost as soon as it began, it had ended. He stood there for a moment, at a loss for words, unable to even really ask what had been done to him. Clearing his throat, he straightened himself out a bit. Well... He didn't feel especially weak...
"Yes... Of course. Try not to fall too far behind." He told her with a nod, not paying anymore mind to his odd experience with her as he turned and headed towards the main doors. As the guards opened them for him, there his horse was waiting, and from the stairs leading up to the castle, he could see the drawn carriages, and the mounted soldiers who had been assigned to ride with him.
He took his time, walking down the steps. As soon as the soldiers noticed his presence, they saluted, their postures proper. "Your Majesty... Is the fae still accompanying us?" One asked. He gave a nod. "She'll catch up with us on the main road. I hope all of you are prepared for the cold. It will be our main enemy." He told all of them, mounting his horse, which whinnied a bit, and had a hard time keeping still.
Viktor looked between his men as he strode up to the front, nodding before grasping the reigns tightly. "Onward!" With that, he cracked the reigns, the horse raising its front two hooves and whinnying once more before galloping off, down the city streets towards the main gate. The drawn carriages and soldiers followed closely, prepared for the long journey to come.
It was easy enough to "shortcut"- to slip through the Faerie Realms and meet with the human army when they first broke to make camp. Thanks to her little emotional energy siphon, Anoria now had a link to Viktor, albeit a tenuous one. All she had to do was focus on that, open a portal, and she stepped seemingly out of thin air to be at his side.
She looked around, apparently unbothered by the dip in temperature that accompanied the setting sun. "Two of your men are ill," she said without preamble, looking to the mortal king. "Something that haunts their breath. It probably won't bother them for a while, but as you travel northward the cold will take its toll. They should be sent back."
Her head tilted consideringly as she reached out to brush against the pulse of illness again. "Or perhaps I could do something for them. I make no guarantees, however."
Viktor would have been startled by her sudden appearance, if it hadn't been for the fact that he was used to her little arcane displays which she showed off quite often. As they reached the main gate, they halted, watching as the guards shouted orders to raise it, which was followed by the grinding of gears which lifted the wood and iron.
Before starting off, he listened to what she had to say regarding his men's health. He sighed, looking over all of them, trying to pick out the ones who looked worse than the rest. Clearly, this little illness hadn't really even taken hold yet, something just barely cooking within their bodies. He didn't like the idea of going out with troops who were in less than stellar condition, but he didn't want to risk not having enough manpower for the quest ahead.
"Try whatever you can. If they can be cured, I'd rather it be that way, then sending them home." He said simply, not looking at the fae as he spoke. He straightened his posture, raising his head slightly as he looked upon his men with a stern expression. "In a straight line! All of you! This is a simple health check, before we depart Serendipity!" He told them.
They looked unsure, but complied, the horses all trotting up to stand side-by-side with one-another. The men kept their postures straight, their gaze remaining directly ahead. They were like statues, trying to appear their best as to not make it seem like they were unfit to continue. Viktor glanced at Anoria. "What exactly were you planning on doing?"
The faerie shrugged. "I was once an accomplished healer. I have not practiced the art in some time, but the skills are still there. I will simply attempt to strengthen their lungs against the cold, and perhaps remove the root of the illness, if I can."
She stepped forward and indicated two men with a flick of her wrist, one who looked barely older than eighteen with freckles and fair hair, and the other an obviously more experienced soldier with a healthy smattering of gray through his dark beard and hair.
"You two. Come with me."
Viktor watched as Anoria took his two men and went off with them... Somewhere. He was a hit surprised to hear that she was a healer in her past. He expected her to be more of the adventurous type. Kinda like himself. Not only because of her skill in combat, but because of her... Less than sunny disposition. But considering what she had been through, it didn't surprise him.
One of his men leaned close to his ear, his eyes not leaving Anoria. "Do we seriously want to bring her along? All of this seems... Fishy." He murmured, clearly not very trusting of the fae. Viktor gave a single, stern nod. "If she wished me harm, she would have harmed me by now. Our purposes intertwine, and she clearly has her uses." The soldier frowned, but took his king's word.
Anoria led the two soldiers a little ways away from the rest of the men. She needed quiet to focus properly.
Both men seemed a little nervous, though the older one hid it well. She could still sense his anxiety, but she pushed it from her mind. "Sit," she said with a vague wave of her hand. "You'll be tired after this."
She started with the younger man. His body had more energy, more vitality, in case this took longer than she would have liked and she had to tap into his own reserves. She knelt in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders, eyes flicking over his face but not seeing him.
She felt his tension, felt the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his breath. Her eyes slid half closed and a soft glow gathered around her as she reached inward, following the thread of illness through his body to its source. The young man started to shake slightly, eyes wide, but she noticed that only peripherally.
Leaning forward, she parted her lips slightly and breathed out, the faintest silvery light tracing through the tiny space from her lips to the soldier's. His chest hitched and he stiffened, but she held him in place easily as she guided her magic through his body to the root of the sickness.
The silver light twined around the dull reddish brown of the illness, choking it out and spreading through the soldier's body in its place. The man convulsed, then collapsed sideways. Anoria caught him, lowering him gently to the ground as she finally lifted her head and blinked her eyes open.
The older soldier was on his feet, blade unsheathed and pointed toward her. "Witch!" he shouted, eyes wide. "Succubus! What spell do you have the king under, demon?!"
Anoria rolled her eyes and got to her feet. "Well if you're going to be like that, then I just won't help you."
Viktor and his men watched on patiently, though some seemed more afraid than astonished, like he was. Granted, there were a couple youngsters among them that looked on with wide eyes, murmuring to each other in fascination of the ancient fae magic on display before them, while the older gentlemen... Seemed less excited.
They drew their blades similar to how the older ill soldier did, alarmed at how the young boy seemed to collapse in her arms. Their uneducated minds simply thought she had hit him with a death spell, or something preposterous like that... Still, Anoria seemed calm, and even replied to the insults in a way that amused Viktor some. He was smarter than a lot of these men, and they'd listen to him.
Turning his horse so that he faced them all, he slammed one of the heads of his spear into the cobblestone three times, enough to grab everyone's attention. "Enough!" He bellowed out, all of his men silencing themselves. He cast the man who started the panic a glare. "You will sheathe your blade, soldier. You will have a seat and allow the woman to work on you, or I will send you back to the castle. Am I understood?"
It took a few minutes, but eventually, the man gave a couple of quick nods, slowly sheathing the sword before sitting back in his previous spot and patiently awaiting the fae. "It's truly something else! We reap the benefits of stolen fae land, and then we raise Hell if ever that same fae tries to help us! Demon, she? Take a good, long look at yourselves and tell me if she's truly the demon here!" He bellowed down at his men, who just looked towards each other and away in shame. He glanced at Anoria. "You may carry on."
Rolling her eyes again, the faerie extended a hand to the older soldier and quirked an eyebrow at him impatiently. Slowly, he took her hand.
The process was much quicker this time around, as she was remembering old skills and now she had more of a feel for the illness. When the soldier collapsed she caught him easily and lowered him next to his younger compatriot.
"They should rest," she said with a shrug as she stood. "But they should be fine come morning."
Viktor listened to her assessment with a nod. He looked towards two nearby men, gesturing towards the sleeping soldiers. They gave a nod, dismounting and walking over to them. Picking them up, they placed them in the back of one of the wagons, where all of the rations were being stored. As the men went back to their horses, he looked towards her. "I'll have the driver be gentle on them." He said. Looking around at the others, he sighed in mental exhaustion. "We carry on."
With that, everyone got within their neat lines, in roughly the same formation they had before the interruption. In any other case, Viktor would have remained here overnight. However, in his paranoid and restless state, he came to the conclusion a long time ago that he didn't have a night to spare. And thus, despite being two short for a day, they'd keep moving.
Anoria was not much of a fan of the slow march of mortals, but she bit her tongue and traveled with them rather than taking a shortcut through her home Realm.
The horses at least were pleasant company, if nothing else.