Children of the Lake 3
Holly stared at the object on Marquise's desk with revulsion.
Such was its odor that even from a pace away it had managed to clean both her nostrils better than any medicine she had ever taken. It tinged the air with a curious taste, shame she couldn't tell what from the way her tongue was burning. "S-so, what's this again?"
"It's called Aris' Rosetears!" Marquise said, holding the bloated, corked blue gourd upright, "One drop, and you'll see lil' Rose from your childhood dueling clouds in the sky! Or so the story goes, anyway. You, I'd say, might need aroooound half the bottle?"
"H-half!" Holly backed away with enough strength to drag her chair against the floor, "W-why can't we just leave the usual way?"
"Weeeell, it's a security measure mostly. First, there are certain obstacles set around to both hide the manor and keep outsiders away that you can't easily go around nor deactivate. Second, we can't let the means of getting in unnoticed leak when there are so many ways to get information out of somebody, which no offense but you have no training against Holly."
"N-none taken, I guess."
"And third, please? Pleeeeease? You said you'd do anything I ask of you."
"I-I did, a-and I will! B-but—"
"If it helps." Agare piped in from the far end of the desk, slightly closer to Marquise's side, "Most here aren't allowed to know these measures either, and would need aid to leave unharmed. Its on a need-to-know basis."
Knowing she wasn't being singled out did help, a little. The fear of what that muck would do to her innards, however, remained. The poor blue bottle gourd, robust and fresh, the kind of thing that should last you for years, had expanded in way that filled her with dread, its bottom half covered in ugly blotches that almost resembled rot or mold were they not acrid green-yellow in color.
But she did promise, didn't she? And needless to say, disappointing Marquise was not an option. So carefully, she took the fruit from her hand, nails unfurling to better grip the cork.
"Before you do, Holly!" Marquise said. "Good luck, alright? I won't be close by anymore, but don't be scared, we'll still be in contact! Also, I got a good crew for you. Treat them well, and they'll be your friends for life."
"Thanks! I will!" she said, chest tight. No, Marquise had said herself she was going to keep contact, right? This wasn't farewell, she shouldn't treat it as one.
So she gathered her courage, pondered how to drink properly from a bottle with her mouth's funny shape, and too anxious to procrastinate further, pulled the cork off with a wet pop. Immediately, she felt a light stinging sensation break across her face, so she didn't lose time in raising her chin and pouring the foul liquid down the hatch.
"Holly. Holly! Half, half!"
She took that as her cue to stop. The taste was unexpectedly mild, for the half second she could feel it before her entire mouth went numb. Outside of a peculiar fuzziness in her stomach, however, she didn't feel any different.
"What now?" she asked.
Holly woke up paralyzed, sprawled over her limbs.
All she could feel was the cold and deafening silence of the void around her, the only clue she had not been cast down into some dark ocean the dizzying amounts of nonsense battering her through her frenzied Will. She could almost swear it was trying to drag her somewhere, but as consciousness returned so did her control, and that instinctual desperation vanished.
Her senses came back little by little. First, her blurry sight, letting her perceive the neither dark nor bright surroundings; second, a cacophony of woodland sounds, from buzzing, to chirping, to more unknowable shrieks, rhythm poorly matched by the peaceful drumming of a heart; then, a slight tang of mold and moist earth, with a hint of musk and mud; finally, she felt very, very sore.
"She's coming to." A voice she recognized as Agare said.
"H-how can you t-tell?" This one took longer until she realized it had to be Furfu. Why did she sound so bitter?
"The way her eyes are moving."
"S-she has eyes?!"
"Are you joking?"
"M-my apologies! I-I promise I w-will pay the u-utmost attention to her b-body from now on!"
"... Just feed her already."
New noises. The rustling of something heavy against wood, light crumpling, followed by fluttering. Holly spent the next few seconds trying to move, and with enormous effort she eventually managed to twitch a finger. Before anything more meaningful, however, the gentle caress of leather flipped her on her back.
"G-gross, gross, gross..."
"Less whining, more work."
Her jaw was propped open, and something was dropped in between her teeth. It barely had the time to grab the back of her tongue in its desperate attempt to escape before her unconscious body attacked, seizing the foreign intruder with a spams, quickly dragging it to her depths. By the time the next one came, she was already wriggling the prickles out of her extremities.
"C-can't I kill them f-first?"
Agare hummed in pondering for a second, "No."
"W-would she e-even notice the d-difference?"
"Maybe, but I would."
The world came into focus.
She had been plopped down inside a hovel, worse than some of Lesser Hollow's poorest shacks. Obviously abandoned, time and weather had bore holes both into the thin planks of its walls and roof, leaving moss and slime molds to grow up the rotten wood. Propped over the same mud encrusted, detritus ridden floor as her were a few small pots, brown and red clay, most far too broken to be of use.
Meeting Furfu in the... Mark, Holly said, "Thaaaaank yooooooh'."
"Y-yiiiih!"
"Good morning, Holly." Agare said. "How are you feeling?"
"Baaaaaaad." Holly said, trying to raise on her elbows. It took a couple good tries before she managed to sit down, and only thanks to the still reliable strength of the far wall, "H-hooow long did Iii sleep?"
"Around four days. We had to take an alternate route."
Holly looked from Furfu, pressing herself against the front of the hut after scooting away on her rear, to Agare, holding a large object by the door, and noticed a rather stark difference from the manor: both were hooded, their facelessness hidden by a dense veil of liquid shadow, like Agare had been in the Hollows. Their armor, too, had now a cuirass, glowing so faint it was barely perceptible even in the dark permeating them.
"T-thanks for the food Furfu. Don't know what it was, but it felt really good!"
"D-don't mention i-it." Furfu said, pushing the only lidded pot away from her. She could still hear scratching from inside, "I-I hope I d-didn't handle you too r-roughly?"
"I-it's fine, I hope I wasn't too unwieldy? On account of, you know..."
"N-no, you're a l-lot lighter than I thought. Are you—"
"We can trade pleasantries and apologies later." Agare said, "Holly, can you move your arms?"
She gave each a good spin. They were sluggish, and her joints still hurt, but it apparently pleased Agare enough as he launched the package in his arms her way without another word. Thanks to the size of the hut, all she really had to do to catch it was extend an arm.
It was pretty strange. Roughly square, surprisingly heavy, and quite pliable, even soft. It had been wrapped in a thin green fabric with a pleasant floral aroma, tied around with a neat golden bow, so smooth it was practically silk.
"What's this?" she asked.
"A gift from Marquise," Agare said.
Well then! She didn't waste time in pulling the ribbon loose with a nail, casting the wrapping aside, to reveal— Leather?
Not any leather she had ever seen, though the odor, masked as it was, sure reminded her so. It was smooth, a little thin and airy, with some squish to it, colored an earthly, almost mossy green with black dots peppering its enormous bulk, with exception of the upper part of its sleeves, shoulders, back and spacious hood, which bore trails of white spots.
"Uhm, A-Agare? These are clothes?"
"A robe." Agare crossed his arms, "It's part of Marquise's deal. If you want to live comfortably among humans, hiding your appearance will be paramount for now. This is Salazan leather, imported, popular with Galehold's rich, and most importantly of amphibious origin. Should help with most discomforts you have with textiles."
"Aaaaaw, do I really—"
"Don't complain." Agare turned his head, looking at something beyond the patchwork destruction of the hovel's walls, "I don't want to be here much longer."
Alerted by his tone, she only briefly hesitated before pullings its hem over her head.
Unfortunately, the cling of cloth was only one of many factors why she hated wearing clothes of any sort. This? Not much better at all. The uncomfortable weight it draped over her shoulder, how tight it felt over her back while being too slack around her waist and hands, the uneven length of it that covered her hands farther than her knuckles but barely reached the middle of her shins, it felt crooked and unwelcome.
Then, a somewhat pleasant shiver up her spine. Something was spreading from the robe, crawling across her skin, making her carefully coiled Will go mad again. With a body of a thousand hands, it groped itself, trying to quickly identify the nature of the threat, only to realize there was no threat at all. Beyond stretching across every bit of skin it could find, this dense and unfathomably multi-faceted body of energy felt as lifeless as a rock, not interacting with her beyond its need to spread and spread until its limit was reached.
She looked down to her hands. Liquid shadows had weaved themselves in between her fingers, up to the tips of her nails. Same with her feet, thought there it failed to cover her pale toes. Changing colors in and attempt to match the impenetrable darkness proved unfruitful.
She gave Agare a quizzical look, but his attention was solely on her legs. "Fucking Marquise, you weight her kidneys yet forget to get her measurements?"
"W-weight what?"
"Nevermind. It's too late to complain, we will have to get something for your feet later."
"M-more clothes?! W-wait! I-if someone asks, why don't you just tell them I'm deformed? It's not like it's a lie!"
No veil could hide the intensity of scrutiny Agare gave her. Then, as if nothing happened, he simply turned his back, slowly opening the door with the world's most pitiful creak, "I suppose you wouldn't understand why that won't work. We can think about that later, for now come, I have some people to introduce you, and they are carrying your things already."
"Wait!" Holly said, "A-aren't you going to tell me what this is?! Is this magic?! Did you cast it?!"
"D-don't say that." Furfu whispered.
"Uhm?"
"Don't s-say that. Don't call it magic. He's going to get annoying."
"Agare?"
"Not me," he replied, outside. "Now come!"
Leaving, she was greeted by a verdant forest, though one with much shorter trees and lighter vegetation than she was used to from the Hollows.
She could tell that, at some point in time this place had been a farm of some sort, though scant evidence remained. The hovel was, if anything, a strange anomaly, in a much better shape than what chunks remained of the worm-eaten fences, or the uneven pile of debris and dirt that may once have been a sizable house, already taken back by nature and now serving as bed for wild flowers of many colors and shapes.
For a second, she almost tricked herself into think she had left the Hollows, but to what she thought was east the wall of mountains still reached high. A little further back, and she saw the giant, Mt.Tremor, its peak disappearing above the clouds and fading into the sky. It always made her a little queasy, so she tried not think much about it.
Agare took the distant front, guiding her steps through the overgrown path away from the old property, and she couldn't say how glad she was for the stretch. Working the kinks off her joints, she unbid her Will, letting it reach as far as it could before pulling it back. It was the first time since that night it felt this responsive, or, perhaps even more? She couldn't tell anymore.
Hands that were not hands rained upon the undergrowth, grasping and feeling their way amidst branches and leaves, fingers digging into critter of all sorts, scaring them silly! A torrent of information flooded into her brain, little of any consequence if at all comprehensible. But who cared? They could feel, they could enjoy, and so she let them to her heart's—
She didn't know how it happened. Suddenly, a few blades of grass rustled, and Agare practically flipped sideways, stance low and wide like a frightened beast. For a nightmarish few seconds. she stood frozen, waiting for some horror to drop on them until Agare relaxed.
"Was that you?" he said.
"H-hehe, sorry."
"Refrain from using your Div-Will that way for now, you know there are severe consequences to overuse."
She nodded, though she had to admit it was easier said than done. Now that they were free, her intangible arms were so eager to sense they had life of their own.
Their walk took them a fair distance from the strange hovel, down the gentle slope of a hill, the vegetation covering their path growing sparser. They came upon an immense ficus, beneath a twisting bifurcated trunk in which lied a great shape, like a box on wheels. At first, it tickled her mind, finally coalescing into a name, wagon, before she noticed the differences. Were wagon wheels really that thick? Where were the draft animals? Besides, the frame didn't fit what she had pieced together from the decayed remains that used to lay somewhere in the woods close to the Elder's home. Then again, that thing had been mulched into muck, so who knew?
Around this not-wagon, four people milled about. Or three did, while one rested above the vehicle. It still was a while until one of them spotted their group, running towards Agare.
Once he was closer, Holly gave him a good look: He was an older man, tall and well built but no match for Julius, her brother in law. He was actually pretty handsome, lightly tanned skin revealed by his loose yellow tunic, body heavy with hairs everywhere her eyes could see, from his well defined pectoral to his chiseled face, beard sporting a small braid.
"Sir!" he said in a gravely voice, giving a light bow with a fist on the middle of his chest, "All preparations completed, all that's left—"
"Agare."
"Sir Agare, my apologies! I—"
"Agare, Rosen, Agare!"
"S-S-Sagare! My most sincere apologies, I will get used to it soon!"
"Good to hear, and good job. Gather everyone, we have to talk."
Not losing an instant, that Rosen ran away, quickly beckoning all the others over. She was too far to hear their conversation, but the tone of it was tense, specially when the one above the not-carriage said something, dismissing with a hand, earning him two exasperated glares, none from that man.
"S-so many F-Faces to take c-care of..." Furfu said.
"They can take care of themselves. Remember your mission," Agare said.
"Y-yes, S-S-Sagare."
"Don't start."
"S-s-sorry..."
Faces, as she remembered, was were those in the Remnants of Eligor that couldn't become Faceless, and generally got the more mundane side of business to tend. Marquise and Agare had implied that there were at least a few in the manor, and Holly had failed to figure out if they had been deliberately kept from her, eluded her by complete accident, or just a misunderstanding.
The three below approached, while the fourth only stuck his legs out the side of the not-wagon, Holly's preferred outcome really. All three greeted Agare the same way, a light bow, a fist on the middle of every chest.
"S-Sagare, as commanded, we're all here" Rosen said.
"Well done." Giving her a wide berth, Agare stood in front of the trio, looking at each in turn, "Pay attention, I will say this once! This here is Holly Seneschal, a pivotal piece of our leader's plan and soon an important comrade of yours! You will treat her well, and you will safeguard her life the same way you safeguard one another's! If any of you have any objections, say it now, while you can still return to Meagerwind!"
"No, Sir!" All three said in unison.
"Agare!" Agare yelled alone."And good. Starting with you, Rosen, introduces yourselves."
Like a moth out of its cocoon, Rosen transformed. From the straight back and serious expression to a casual slouch and easy smile. If he could sell that as natural he could sell her a tree, but she had to admit the change did make her heart race, just a little.
"Well, I suppose I should have done this earlier, yeah? My bad, didn't mean to be rude, so let me make up by telling you a little about this beautiful creature before you," he said, giving the back of his neck a lazy scratch, "Name is Rosen, enchanted to meet you! By trade I am a traveling pit fighter, with a name that goes as far as the Territories, but this time I'll be serving as one of our guides, being the most well traveled among us! Y-you excepted, S-S-Sagare, of course!"
"Stop with that Sagare thing! You next."
The one who hummed in agreement was a beauty of the kind that turned heads, regardless of, or in Holly's case considering, the fascinating scar that traced her chin to nearly her severed earlobe. Sharp features, pale skin, piercing green eyes, hair a mixture of brown and copper she had never seen before, differing from Lesser Hollow's ideal lady in her choice of clothes: She practically wore what the two other Faceless did, with the same dark leather for her gloves and heavy boots, as well as an iron cuirass that very faintly glowed.
"Name's Blades." she said, voice both husky and tranquil.
"B-Blades?"
"Blades." She tapped her holstered sword, "They told me I could call myself whatever I wanted."
"O-oh. Well picked! I guess."
"Sure was. I fight, and protect this girl right here."
"Charmed." the leftmost Face, yet to introduce herself, said.
"If you need to teach somebody a lesson, call the other guy, I don't like dulling my swords over nothing."
And indeed, she had one odd sword, with a blade both long and thin, a simple scabbard contrasting heavily with its elaborate pommel, where the shape of a beast's skull had been carefully worked on the tip. Sheathed, not for a second did Blade's hand stop idly caressing or squeezing that handle, and the fact Agare hadn't acted made Holly hopeful that wasn't a threat.
"Sheesh, will you never stop talking?!" The leftmost said, "My turn, right Agare?"
"Go ahead."
The last person on the ground was another woman. Holly thought she had grown used to the idea of women fighting in the Marquise's manor, but the involuntary flinch she gave at looking at this one a second time proved her wrong.
She was, for the lack of a better word, what Holly associated with matronly: A corpulent body, brown hair neatly divided in twin braids, and a modest yet airy dress, green with a wine colored underblouse, that wouldn't look too bold used during the Flowering Season back in lesser hollow, hems below the knees and sleeves just past the elbow. She also had brown skin, calloused hands, a nice smile, and actual spectacles! The first intact pair Holly had ever seen, with big round lenses.
She dropped into an elegant curtsy, speaking with a soothing voice "You can call me Almalilly! That's a foreign flower, if you're wondering, blue and lilac petals with a white core. I do a whole lot, though I'll be mostly charting our course and dealing with boring bureaucracy wherever needed! as long as we stay in this place anyway. Oh, oh, the Marquise also asked me to continue your Awinian studies, so I hope you're ready because I'm a tough teacher!"
"Too wordy." Blades said.
"It's an introduction, it's meant to be wordy!" Almalilly shrugged.
"Brevity is the soul of art."
"Mystery is the death of companionship!"
"Subtlety is sexy, actually."
Almalilly rolled her eyes "I'm not trying to fuck her."
Holly flinched again.
"Oops?" she asked, with a quirked eyebrow, "Don't like that kind of language, Holly?"
"S-sorry, it's fine, I'm just not used to hearing ladies say things like that, b-but don't hold back on my account!"
"Ladies, is it?" Almalilly smiled, "Now that's a compliment I don't get everyday. Still, pardon my manners, I'll be sure to keep it in mind next time we talk. Anyway, ready for the final battle?"
"F-final battle?"
"With your leave, Agare?"
"Go ahead," he said.
Holly, of course, knew exactly where Almalilly intended to take her, and had a bad feeling about it. The last Face hadn't budged the smallest distance, watching the conversation below with an impassive expression, but the slightest hint of a toothy glint began showing as she approached, immediately setting her on edge.
Holly knew she had no grounds to judge others on appearance. Regardless, she couldn't help herself. Had these people not been chosen by Marquise, she would avoid him like a pile of maggots.
He was laddish. Short, scrawny, poorly combed hair growing just past his neck, a pathetic excuse of a stubble peppering his chin, Holly didn't need to examine him any further to see all those signs of a growing lad she despised so much. His garish red robe, the crooked arrogant smile, those eyes that stared deep into her soul, not a detail that could escape the image.
And then, before she could speak, he pushed himself off the top of the not-wagon. Time slowed down as their gazes met, the lad falling her direction, her body refusing to act. For a terrifying, endless moment, she imaged that smug face missing his landing, scrapping his butt clean of skin.
The next moment he did exactly that.
A silent second of stupefaction was broken by a chorus of "Young Sir!" The lad simply rolled on the ground, cradling his rear and softly cursing to himself as Almalilly rushed to his aid, Rosen sprinting in a blink later.
"Fuck! Fuck!" The lad said, his voice bearing that unpleasant hoarseness of a young man at the cusp of age, "Stupid cunt-guzzling Fetish, what else must I do to make you work?!"
"What were you thinking?!" Almalilly crouched by his side, "Are you still all hanged up on that thing?!"
"Young Sir! Are you hurt?!" Rosen said, "Let me check—"
"Tch! Unhand me, you both! And what is wrong with fixing something I bought with mine own wealth?!"
"This makes it twice you got hurt the same way! You told me yourself it was hopeless!"
"Even professional opinion is subject to change!"
Slapping away the helping hands, the young sir got back to his feet by himself. He beat the dirt out of his clothes, gave his rear one last good rub for good measure, then looked at her again as if just remembering she was there. Sleazy baring of teeth back, he practically screamed, "Holly Seneschal!"
"M-me."
"Forgive my lackluster entrance." He shook his head, "Many say that one's first impression speaks the loudest, alas what must always follow the adage is that sometimes you have no control over the circumstances of your introduction."
"I guess."
"Let us not waste precious time." The young sir gave a theatrical bow, one arm spread wide while the other remained crossed over his chest, his gaze never losing hers, "My name is Aleh. and I am this group's witch, specializing in cognitive and supportive arts. Also an enchantment repairman of some talent, experienced with all five Great Asha of the Meshelaa Continent and the all three of the Bear's Arts! None of which this fucking Fetish incorporates, I assure you, so I hope you can disregard this incident without issue."
There was a lot there that went right over Holly's head, but one things stood out.
"Asha?" She asked, feeling her heartbeat hasten.
Lips shut, his smile gained an almost mischievous edge, the first Holly was willing to guess was any level of honest. "Asha," he said.
One of his hands came up, slowly, palm up and fingers pinched together. Her Will twitched, an electrict wisp of energy raising. His eyes widened, his lips blurred with a haunting chant, his fingers were thrown open, and suddenly twin tongues of flame, one black one violet, manifested in mid air. They stretched, intertwining like serpents into a multicolored spiral, their cores melting into one another until all that remained was a spinning sphere of impossible depth, a hole into nothing in a gorgeous monochromatic hue.
"A-Asha!" she gasped.
"Asha!"
"T-that's so cool!" Holly said, finally seeing the man beyond the lad, "Y-you're a magician? You do magic!? H-how?! Can you teach me?!"
And just like that, the sphere exploded.
Holly took a step back, shocked as the once enthralling performance grew grotesque. In the cloud of light that took the sphere's place, unspeakable shapes fought to manifest, consuming one another before any could mature. Through it all, Aleh's smile, now sharper than any knife, only widened.
"You called me... a magician?" he said.
"W-wasn't I supposed to?" Holly said, her nails unfurling by reflex at the familiar discomfort.
"Y-young Sir." Rosen said, paling.
Then, as if they never left, the toothy smile and hollow eyes returned, "Sure! That's what I am! Magician! I will show you such tricks! Now, I— need to consider some matters, if you excuse me."
Briefly, his face twisted with such naked contempt, she was sure he was going to attack. Then, she realized it hadn't been directed her way.
Agare's approach had been silent. Just a pace or two away from her, facing the leaving Aleh as if he hadn't even noticed her. The spell broke, Agare taking a long hop away from her before she could react.
"W-what was that?" she said.
"I-I told you n-not to do it," Furfu said, to her other side, "S-stupid prick..."
"Yeah, and you didn't tell me to whom!"
"M-my apologies..."
"W-what did I do wrong?!"
"Ask him if you ever have the opportunity," Agare said. "Almalilly, get her inside the Oke, I'd like to get away from here as soon as feasible."
"Y-yes! Good idea!" Almalilly said, gently grabbing Holly's hand, "Come this way, Holly, let me show you something!"
She looked askance from one member of Marquise's "good crew" to the other, hoping for an explanation that never came.
Sighing, she gave up. Marquise had chosen them, and she knew what she was doing. Besides, looking at the hand holding hers, she at least had something to look forwards to.