The Children of the Lake 11
Aleh's torso lurched with a gasp, air failing to enter his lungs.
The world he awoke to was a tenebrous blur, a strange incandescence all there was to distinguish the shuffling shades around him. A rasping breath echoed from his disfunctional throat, another desperate attempt to breath causing him nothing but pain.
Words were spoken. A strong appendage got a firm hug around his back, propping him into a half sat position. A cold object was pressed against his lips, the pulp filled concoction inside bearing the taste of bitter grass. As the liquid, or ooze rather, dribbled down his throat however, a jolt spread across him, from the tips of his extremities to the darkest to the most unknowable depths of his Asha, returning life and more importantly control to his mind.
He coughed, choking. Ring Flower extract, he recognized, fresh and mixed with some sort of flavoring additives considering he wasn't retching all over the floor. Breathing once again, everything came into focus, and he realized he had been brought inside his vintage Oke, the Homunculus within its walls displaying high alert through swift pulses of scarlet bioluminescence, a good, if ominous, sign.
"Rest, young sir," Rosen's ugly bearded mug said from so close he cold smell his breath, "Take it easy now, you—"
Aleh grasped the older man by the collar, lugging him down. "Hooolly. Where...?"
The memories of the last few hours came back to him, and with them his failure.
He had been foolish. Amateurish! Back in the Sect, the punishment for a mistake of this caliber would have hobbled him for life. Trying to match an Heir's Asha inside one of their Chief Concepts, not to speak of a potential Domain in the making was certain suicide for a human being, even a witch of his caliber. That he had been so focused on offense he allowed the attacker past all defenses was salt rubbed into his wound.
He understood his reasons, of course. It was deeply unpleasant to admit, but the moment he saw Holly freeze, contact with the Children made, he saw his dream unraveling before his eyes, and that had been enough to move him faster than logic could stop him. He shook his head; he could dwell on this later.
"Where's Holly?" he asked, louder. "Tell me you stopped her. Tell me!"
"... Young sir, please calm down." Rosen said, his tone an unspoken answer.
"I can't believe it." Aleh shoved him away, and that he didn't budge a centimeter was another cut to his pride. "No, no, How could you fail to— Matterless, we must plan a search this instant, if she—"
"Aleh, breath!"
The command bristled him. Who dared speak to him with that tone? He wanted to lash out, scream, rip their skin with his bare extremities... but he took a deep breath instead. He had learned to tell when he was about to cast logs into the raging fire. "Thank you, Almalilly. Apologies for the hysterics."
"No, I get it." Almalilly said, sitting close to his feet on one of the Oke's hard fought for couches. "I just had more time to process the loss, I guess."
The hand extricating itself from his shoulders, and he fell back onto the seat. "So it happened, then. Holly made contact with the Children of the Lake. She is compromised."
"We fell right into their trap." Almalilly sighed. "To think they would could even use the Sect! How long must they have been watching to figure us out?!"
"I would suppose not much observation was needed. So long as they knew the idiosyncrasies of their enemies, they coul spot the rat. That they managed to get their hands on one of the faceless..."
"From the beginning, the fullness of the Lady's plan would never have reached the ears of mere faces. The risk of leaks would be too high. Besides, the Sir wouldn't keep something that might—"
"Shut the fuck up, Rosen." Aleh said.
"Immediately, young sir."
Aleh massaged his temples, a dim pain flaring in waves beneath his cranium, physical manifestation of Ashic wounds plus the replenishment concoction he gathered. He might suffer the consequences of his haste for the rest of his lifespan depending on fortune's favor, not that he had the chance to examine himself; now, they had to retrieve Holly, no matter the cost.
No. On second thought, there was one thing with more precedence: he had a bone to pick.
"You see, I can understand how none of us mere Dashi could stop Holly, not when we are caught with out metaphorical underwear around our ankles by an Heir of the Azure with vested interest in her." He rose on his arse, squinting against the shadows in search of his target. "Tell me, however, what could excuse you, dearest Furfu?"
"Aleh," Almalilly said. "Not the time."
"When else then?! The next time she fumbles a sensitive operation, assuming there will be a next operation for her to fumble?! She is a faceless, for fuck's sake, isn't this what you are made for?!"
The miserable creature once named Furfu stood in the corner, close to the threshold separating the Oke's passenger compartment to its cabin, shrunken and trembling as if stuck in the troughs of a nightmare, which he would make sure she was by dawn or die trying.
"What is your purpose here? Did Marquise go insane? Was she fucking you? Where did this trust sprout from?!" He stepped towards her, Merurgy surging as his control over his Arts slipped for a moment, bringing to the light an unidentifiable numbness that made him cringe. "Because all that stands before mine eyes is that same cruel bastard who crippled her comrades on whims under the Sect's protection then was beaten into an obsessive coward!"
"Aleh, enough!" Almalilly stepped in between them. "This isn't the time to make good on childhood rivalries!"
"Childhood rivalry?!" he said. "Ha! How I wish I could have shown you!"
"I've heard enough. If she isn't going to be use, forget about her and helps us plan how to salvage the situation, preferentially before Sir Agare returns."
"Tch! If he returns. Perhaps our little interloper did murder the arrogant cretin, and might be heading back for us right now!"
Inside, the scant lights available allowed for faint detail, but there was no darkness in the entire Starlit World that could obscure the somber look Almalilly threw his way. "Take. This. Seriously."
"The sir will return," Rosen murmured from behind him. "Please don't underestimate his strength, he will."
"... So be it!" Aleh shrugged. "Tell me the situation then. What changed while I was unreceptive?"
Silence. A good omen.
"We are under attack." Blades' voice echoed, clear and from close enough to almost get a start out of him.
"Not exactly, yet," Almalilly said, "but we are being pinned down, and if isn't for that purpose I can't imagine why then."
Frowning, he reached with a hand towards the wall, making contact with his Homunculus through the slim metallic sheet separating him from its various segments. Sending a Merurgical message, the creature recognized its master and allowed him access to its own power sources. The wall turned transparent, and the red luminescence pierced to the outside, bathing their surroundings.
The Floodlands had made good on its name. The bottom of the Oke's wheels were submerged in what he estimated was over half a meter of water, which crashed against them in impossible waves that rose over the nearby uneven terrain more like a sheet held against the wind then what its natural properties should, could, allow it to shape itself into.
"How long?" he asked, perplexed.
"Since Holly left. It kept rising until a few minutes ago," Almalilly said.
The light painted the tree line in the color of blood, illuminating as far as the thick of the woodlands, where water levels appeared to come to a sharp drop. There, once camouflaged against the shadows, a shape revealed itself.
Aleh stared it down, finding it difficult to describe. Elongated and slick, bearing a multitude of slim, reflective branch-like objects upon its back, rocking with the waves as if caught by accident.
The shape's far tip shifted, and he paled. Slamming both hands against the wall, he lent his reserves to the Oke to boost its defenses.
"Brace for impact!"
"What? Young sir, what did—"
Too late. The Child of the Lake, Heir to the Azure, who laid in wait until it had been noticed, struck the side of their nearly 3 tons heavy vehicle with enough violence to push it sideways.
Holly had underestimated the Floodlands.
Every step taken towards the heart of the woods the closer the jungle cramped into a maze, its cavernous walls of wood and thorns allowing not the slightest beams of light through. All the illumination allowed to another person lost in this place would be the few incandescent mushrooms that occasionally grew under rotting trunks and glowy mucus of dubious origin.
The thin tendril of water leading her, however, stood out like a torch in the night. Infected with Will, its unnatural contours brought her up and down hills, over and under trees, into the depths of puddles and caves formed from the embrace of roots. No matter the obstacle, it never lost shape nor shine, or its gentle grasp on her own Will.
Deeper they went, and ever quieter did the Floodlands become. Not all things had fled this new, dominating presence: she could feel the crunch of soft larvae who had wriggled out of their mud cradles only to find themselves helpless to escape, armies of slugs and snails of every kind brought together by a common fear, smaller animals such as lizards and salamanders hampered by old wounds and missing limbs. She quietly apologized, but never lost stride.
Other, more sinister things refused to flee. In fact, they pursued the stretched Will with incomprehensible hunger.
The first apparition hobbled its way out of the dark on impossibly gaunt limbs, silhouette blurring to the rhythm of drowned screams. A body of bloody meat and skin ribbons was all she could guess it was trying to emulate with its repulsive shape, flesh colors blooming into view independent from the light.
"Out of my way!" she said, her arm swiping through the mass by reflex, followed by another hundred who were not truly there. Physically, she felt nothing but a strange chill that seeped below her hardskin. Her Will drove itself through a mass of bitter fear and starved desperation with the consistency of rancid muck, sending shivers down her spine.
It wouldn't be the only one to block her path. More and more of them emerged around her, creeping from behind bushes and enormous shrub leaves, or shambling in a hurry against her guiding creek, only to be lashed apart at touch.
"My Mariwa, just ahead," the other Will said, unbothered by the figures. "The most perfect place in this damned dreck. The most fitting place this landlocked hovel could ever offer our Blood! It should awaken you."
It wouldn't take long until she broke from the densest reaches into a sort of clearing. She looked up and saw the stars watching them. The Moon fast approached its new phase, the six-fingered palm imprinted into its surface already obscured.
She slowed down to a walk. As promised, her destination was right there, over a gentle slanted hillock and into a brighter clearing, strong lights bathing her and the woods in dozens of shimmering colors, a sight that in different circumstances might have enthralled her. This one time, she had to force her shaking legs to keep a steady pace.
Before her eyes, sat a small, shallow lake, its waters so placid they mirrored the sky and the brilliant show of lights of the flower field its shores had become. None she recognize: long stalked reds with with fuzzy cores, pink and violets that floated on dish shaped leaves, pristine whites with sagging petals like little cups, others more demure in their faded greens and teals. All, however, were mere backdrop compared to the gorgeous giant blossomed from the gargantuan hollow which laid in its central islet, with light blue petals, each the length of a man, that had a much subtler shine, looking as if enchanted, specially in comparison to its rivulets worth of golden sap slowly cascading into the waters.
Not just the flowers, the entire basin was lit like the day, leaving nothing to the imagination. Then, where did her guiding Will come from?
It let go of her, slipping away into the depths of the lake. The guiding stream splashed apart, soaking the soil around her feet.
She took this as her invitation. Head held carefully high, she shuffled into the pleasantly cool waters, greenery rustling around her legs with such quiet whispers she felt as if they were moving, making way for her entrance. She walked until she felt the water reach her crotch, roughly the middle point to the islet.
Emboldened by anger and fear, she called. "H-hello? I'm here!"
Silence.
An idea occurred to her, both wondrous and terrifying. Her Will dipped into the lake, very hesitantly at first. When fingers that were not fingers reached its cool surface, she knew there was no backing from this, and pushed down with all the courage she could muster.
It was as if a whole new world opened before her. As if this tiny pond had this unseen profundity its physical counterpart could never hope to match, one which invited her to be freer than ever before. Her Will swam, spreading in all directions, no need for conscious effort, the incredible embrace never steering her wrong.
She had never felt this much at home.
Which felt horrific. She splashed cold water on her cheeks, centering herself. Outside the delicious hold of instinctual familiarity, her Will's exploration was less an elegant swim and more like vicious trashing, a frenetic dance disturbing the mirror with small waves. She stopped, a little embarrassed that somebody might be watching her play around.
"D-didn't you want me here?" she said, searching around. "Where are you?"
Silence, again, but only for a minute this time. What came to answer her, however, wasn't a voice, or at least not her guide's.
The cacophony — no, the gurgling, asphyxiated choir echoed from all directions. The chaos of its uncoordination created a bizarre, unsettling yet melodic and nostalgic hymn, reminding her of the Lesser's festivals, longing but hopeful singing from the villagers that pierced the gloom of the Hollows, mouths struggling to match one another, and she always there out of sight, an unwelcome observer.
Apparitions stepped out of the darkness. A few were already investigating the margins of the lake, she noticed, unwilling to dip in nor leave, waiting patiently. Dozens joined them; hundreds, some so dim they were barely living mist and shade, others so clear she could almost see how their impossible viscera came together. She turned away in disgust.
Only when she was surrounded did her Will feel a brush. Or, more of a teasing caress, rubbing its way past her fingers and up her wrists, quickly vanishing as she grabbed for it. Then again, in a completely different location. Outraged, she spread as far as she could, almost covering every drop of the lake yet reaching nothing.;
At the third caress. she retreated, pulling her Will as close and tight as she could. "Stop this! S-show yourself! Why won't you show yourself?!"
The forth caress came soon, and this time she was ready. like the jaws of a coiled snake, she closed upon the offending limb, overwhelming it with numbers. It didn't even try absconding, to her confusion, the smooth, jointless, fingerless stump resting with peaceful ease under the hands.
"I-I got you! A-aren't you going to come out? I-I'm going to leave if you don't!"
"My Mariwa. What has been done to you?" The Will said, raw devastation sinking her heart in uncontrollable sympathy.
"W-what?"
"I do not speak the tongue of Allebodt, my sad, broken Mariwa. language of savages, language of apostates, beneath the Blood."
She was speechless. The caresses intensified.
"Who took your pride, your beauty?" the guide continued. "What is that wretch, covering the Blood's inheritance? What are those those trembles, those whimpers? Stain my sight with this putridness no longer!"
It took her a few second to understand the request, their emotions bubbling to the surface with every instant of disobedience. Somewhat relieved, she pulled her robes off in one swift yank, leaving herself fully nude for the first time in what felt like ages. Disgusting, odorless sludge dripped down her limbs, another sight she pointedly refused to look at.
"Vile."
"Don't call me—" She stopped. "Don't call me that."
"Not you, My Mariwa, the state those vermin left you to languish! To deny yourself, to suffocate the divine in its own emissions! Were you raised as a message, to our Lady or to me, of the cruelties those Faceless abhorrences will stoop to?!"
"They cared for me, they kept me alive, they—"
The reply came like the crack of a cane, shattering her point in a half. "Look at yourself! Malnourished, besmirched, spineless! Examine that Divine Intent of yours, how malformed its form has become!"
"If it wasn't for my comrades, I would be a lot worse off!"
"Comrades! A captive dismembered and stashed away, fed meager crumbs, then dragged out to be paraded! And you have the gall to thank your wardens."
"I'm not a captive!"
Their anger only burned stronger. In a single stroke, the Will slipped out of view, disappearing into the depths. She took a step back, searching for them with growing desperation, the sound of movement parting the surface but disappearing when she turned to see.
"Long have I dreamed of reaching your ears, my Mariwa," the Will said, nowhere and everywhere. "The Master of your Domain granted no passage."
Her own Will wasn't half fast enough to catch it this time. A splatter, a rustle, a dash from the bottom of the lake behind her, always nothing.
"You are no longer that babbling infant lost to my carelessness. This advanced in age, I fear correcting you will be a struggle, though at least the troublesome parasites shall not bother us ever again."
"What do you mean?" She said. "What did you do?"
"I see your potential, struggling against your husk. By my own hands, the salvation of our family shall be molded, bloom to full divinity, on honor long exiled!"
"Shup up! You can't see anything, and you don't know me!"
"I know your pedigree, the quality of your Blood, and the person you are not. Through this unholy number I know who you were and are and would have become if not for my failure."
"You can't." She hissed, nails unfurling. "You can't! You can't, You can't, You can't!"
"I will show you."
Another wet plop behind her again. She would have ignored if not for the soft footsteps on moist mud that followed. They had finally come, and she couldn't bring herself to turn around.
She was afraid. By now, she was sure of who they were, and what she would see when she looked. She knew it might destroy her, destroy who she had been utterly and without mercy, but it was too late now. She turned, mind going numb.
Taller than even Julius by at least a head; long spindly limbs, armored with a shining smooth white carapace, elongated digits above and below bearing claws like sickles; torso was flabby, with a soft abdomen pushing from under a steel cuirass, their tendril ridden parts covered by nothing but a silken loincloth, deep purple in color.
Finally the head, the detail that proved her guess, that broke her. Bloating and sagging back, with a mane of long tentacles writhing in the air, a featureless dome for a forehead, lips so thin they were almost nonexistent, barely covering a mouth of sharp fangs. And its eyes! Slits so well camouflaged along the nigh lacy folds of skin crossing the whole head in two halves she would have excused herself for missing the four of them at first, if they didn't look so much like hers.
Different here, similar there, undeniably close to that body she felt first thing after crawling out of the copper tasting cocoon, who knew how many years ago.
"Precious Mariwa, my daughter," he said. "How gorgeously you bloomed. Never worry yourself again, all will be right!"