RE: Monarch

Chapter 187: Lillian III

Chapter 187: Lillian III

Lillian squeezed herself into a hollow of roots. Damp mud squished between her fingertips, and a skittering of small things sent a chill down her spine. She pushed on in an urgent crawl until her back pressed against the spiraling tendrils and struggled to control her breathing as she turned her head to look out from the hiding place.

The black nose of a feral muzzle hovered beyond the bark of a nearby tree, suspended high in the air, drool leaking from its mouth as it drew in rasping sniffs, silently swiveling, the sound damp and foul.

Until now, her outing to the Everwood had been more or less productive. Barring the key element she was looking forthough shed started out looking for something specific, at this point shed take almost any ingredient with high mana potential and call it a dayshed been able to restock or find substitutes for many of the more expensive ingredients her failed concoction had wasted. But lacking the alchemical catalyst, shed pushed on, marking trees as she went. The trunks of the trees had grown thicker, their bark darker, more grooved and aged.

Shed been more cautious at first, keeping an eye out for tracks, trampled flora, markings on the trees.

Her chest rose and fell in short, tight gasps, and her mind spun.

Hyperventilating. Cant get out of this if I lose consciousness. Have to stop. Breathe.

She pressed a hand against her stomach as Gunther had taught her, and forced herself to inhale from deep within, as silently as she could. As her breath steadied, she removed her hand, leaving a muddy print on her waist, then allowed herself to look in the direction shed seen the muzzle. It was still there, fixed in the same spot.

It knew she was here.

My scent.

Lillian worked quickly, quietly opening her satchel and withdrawing a bundle of thygian moss. It was a shame to use something so expensive, but it was pungent, and most animals steered clear of it. She held it in the center and rubbed it over herself, working urgently but carefully so there was no noise to draw the creatures attention. When she was done she set it aside, dippedg both hands into the mud and began covering her arms, ankles, neck and face, then started on her clothes.

Until the wolf stepped out.

She froze. A normal wolf would have been bad enough. But this wasnt a normal wolf. It was too tall, its head coming to around the same height as a mans. There were tufts of hair missing, and long uniform scars that could have been the aftermath of a bears claws.

In a moment of abject panic, she wondered if the bear had lost. It was certainly big enough to take on a small bear, and that was assuming there was only one.

Dont think about that.

Her heart crawled into her throat as the wolfs head turned toward the hollow. It meandered toward her, its movements stilted and hobbled. Painstakingly slowly, she grabbed the bundle of moss with one hand and held it so it covered her face, praying to Elphion that it would be enough to mask her breathing.

The midday light that had been filtering into the hollow gave way to the giant wolfs shadow. She could hear it panting quietly, a nascent growl in its throat.

There was a huff. And then it was gone.

Counting the minutes by heartbeats, Lillian laid perfectly still, even as the stench of thygian pervaded her nostrils until it was almost unbearable and her head sank deeper in the mud. She pulled the clump of moss down just far enough for one eye to see out of the hollow entrance to the forest beyond.

Thered been no noise, when the wolf approached. Nor when it followed her. Just flashes of movement she spotted through the trees. It could still be out there. Wolves didnt give up a trail easily, and this one was patient. Minutes felt like hours, but she was mindful of the suns movement. For now, there was time..

But if she was stuck here, this deep in the Everwood at night?

She wouldnt live to see another morning.

As if to underscore that, the wolf stepped into view of the hollow again, coming from the direction that it had left. Having lost the scent, it was doing what all excellent hunters did when the trail was cold.

Doubling back.

Again, it moved on and she waited.

The wolf returned once more before finally seeming to abandon the hunt, and Lillian waited a long time before she finally pulled herself out of the hollow and brushed a spider from her shoulder, checking around her first, then squinting up at the canopy. The sun was at its apex.

Youre an interesting one. The voice, while soft, was terrifying enough that Lillian nearly jumped out of her skin. She started and spun, looking for the source before her eyes landed on a small creature no larger than a small dog. Its face was angular, furred, and red. Vulpine. Snake-like pupils stared up at her, surrounding irises brown, with a golden starburst at the fringes. As she studied its features, it spoke, canine mouth at the cusp of the white streak that ran upward from its belly splitting in a disturbingly human fashion. That was fast thinking, the way you handled the dire wolf. They are almost impossible to deter once in pursuit of prey.

It was, for all appearances, a talking fox.

Lillian was wary. While there were many mysteries of this world hidden from her, certain truths were self-evident. One of which being that, despite the many wonders of the Everwood, mundane creatures did not spontaneously gain the gift of speech.

Which meant this creature who took the guise of a fox was one of two things.

Either a spirit, or a demon.

Lillian pressed her hands together and bowed. Low enough to be respectful, but not so low it would place her throat within striking distance. Apologies if I have trespassed on your domain, spirit.

Spirit was a safe enough bet to use for either a spirit or demon. A spirit would appreciate the deference. And a demonif the stories were truewould delight in the misunderstanding.

Clever. The fox peered at her curiously, then veered off in the direction the wolf had retreated. Which begs the question. Why didnt you use magic to drive off the brute to begin with?

Lillian blinked. Knowing what the creature likely was, she knew she had to be extremely careful with her wording, lest she accidentally agree to contract or fall into a trap. But unless she was missing it, there was no trap in the creatures words. At least, none that she could detect. Because I am not a magician, fair spirit.

Its gaze fixed on her, deep and unknowable, as it reconsidered her. Hm. My mistake.

Unsure of what else to do, Lillian bowed again. Thank you for your hospitality in light of my intrusion. I will take my leave now. She turned and began to walk in the direction of her last marked tree, praying the spiritor demonwould leave her be. Her heart sank as she heard small footsteps in the dried leaves following behind her.

Giving up so easily? It called from behind her, reflecting her own thoughts.

Lillian forced a smile. Given the time, I have little choice.

Come, now. The fox jumped up on the trunk of a long-fallen tree, walking alongside her. The satchel, the herbs, the scent of magic. That you pushed so far into this gods-forsaken place to begin with, its obvious what you are. An alchemist in pursuit of a prize. One yet to be found. Perhaps this one can be of service.

Though obvious, it was so tempting Lillian found her pace slowing, and had to force her legs to speed back up again. I am one of little means, spirit. Whatever the cost for your service, it is likely beyond me to afford.

If it is your soul you worry for, that is not my aim.

Lillian stopped mid-step as fear lanced her heart. A demon in disguise was unlikely to admit what it was, but what the creature had just said was everything but a direct admission.

The demon hopped down from the log and sat directly in her path, its voluminous white-tipped tail swishing from side to side as it studied her. Were I so basely inclined, I have my doubts that I could take it from you.

Her nails pressed into her muddy palms in frustration. She had escaped a dire wolfa creature straight out of legendonly to fall directly into the clutches of a greater threat. More frustrating, she was at an impasse. Fleeingliterally turning and running awaywould be a clear and direct insult. And unlike the dire wolf, if this was indeed a demon, no amount of thygian moss would prevent it from following her.

If it was possible to escape this, it would not be by running.

Then what are your aims? Lillian asked carefully. She held as still as she could, cursing the tremble that traveled through her body.

The same as all living things, once their core needs are met. Indulging my own curiosity. The fox cocked its head. You are a marvel. A marvel indeed. It is natural for a simple spirit such as myself to be fascinated by such things, is it not?

If the stories and myths shed heard held a grain of truth, this was more or less a well-worn approach for a demon. It would begin by making her feel special. Hint that there was something deep within her that was valuable, different. Once it ascertained her goal, it would lay its trap. One thatif stepped intocould cost her everything.

Unfortunately, I believe youre mistaken, Lillian said firmly. I am nothing more than an apothecarys daughter.

Even the smallest spark carries the potential to set the world aflame. In truth, I am less interested in what you are than what you will be. But I digress. The fox pulled back its lips in a facsimile of a smile that displayed sharp teeth and made Lillian profoundly uncomfortable. Ive lived in this place for quite some time. Tell me what it is youre searching for, and I will do my best to aid you.

So far, it was sticking to the pattern she predicted. Should it continue to do so, escaping this was as simple as playing along until it laid the trap, then identifying and avoiding it. If the myths held truth, demons respected the rules they set themselves, and it would not drop its guise of civility if she did so gracefully and without insult.

Lillian crossed her arms, and regaled the demon with her tale, working around any details that would give away the location of her home in Topside and avoiding names. Supposedly they held power, and she noted that the demon had not yet given his. What she was specific with, hoping to bore him, were the names and attributes of the many ingredients of Gunthers recipe.

Which made it something of a shock when, instead of losing interest, he asked her to repeat it.

When she did, he nodded thoughtfully. Curing a plague. And doing so for the sake of the people, rather than profit. Noble aims, for one so young. His smile faded. Pity it wont work.

Lillian nearly asked why it wouldnt, before she reminded herself that this being could not be trusted. It was possible it knew nothing of alchemy and was simply creating a frame for its trap.

The fox told her anyway. The flax seeds are the immediate issue. Even if the burner was quenched in time, the attempt would have failed.

What would I even replace them with? Lillian asked, shocked. It was a bit like telling a cook their soup would be better served without broth. The flax seeds were a crucial ingredient, the sort that could not be easily substituted.

That is for you to discover. For that is the heart of alchemy, is it not? The trial and error of discovery? The fox chided her. But if you are foolish enough to return so deeply into this place every time you make a mistake, you will not survive for long. There are worse things in this place than mere dire wolves. The foxs tail swished to the side, revealing something round that glowed bright blue, much brighter than the radiance of the capsule she was so desperate to replace. She squinted, trying to make out details beyond the light. It was more lumpy than spherical, composed of hair, greenery, the rest a patchwork of unidentifiable materials.

A bezoar.

It was immediately recognizable from a handful of diagrams prevalent in the alchemical texts shed found less useful, those focused on legends and myths. Ordinary bezoars were formed in the intestinal tract of many animals, especially those less choosy with their diets. Their magical equivalent was almost exactly the same, save that they were formed in the gut of a magical creature.

And from all accounts, they were incredibly potent and carried innately strong healing properties. A thin slice of such a bezoar would exceed her mana capsules properties exponentially.

The foxs tail swished back around, and when it retreated, the bezoar was gone. It would prove much more useful and prevent you from needing to return here for considerably longer than what you were originally looking for, yes?

Yes, Lillian whispered. Demons traded in desire and played on ones greed. No matter how badly she wanted the bezoar, or how much good she could do with it, there was no guarantee shed be successful. Or that it was even real. She had to be strong.

Hm. The fox peered skyward, as if weighing two possibilities. It would be of great use to you, to be certain. But it is not in my kinds nature to give away things of value freely. Would a riddle be too trite?

What are the terms of your riddle? Lillian asked. She braced herself, preparing to say no.

Pah! the fox laughed. So cautious. But perhaps, wise. Very well. My terms are as follows: If you guess correctly, I will surrender the bezoar to you with no strings attached and no hidden conditions beyond that you remember my generosity and look back on me kindly.

Of course it sounded good. It was the honeyed bait. The motivator. She needed to uncover the snare.

And should I guess incorrectly?

The foxs lackadaisical manner grew serious. We go our separate ways. You will not seek me out again, nor tell others about me, nor seek retribution for my withholding the bezoar, should you gain the means to do so.

Lillian blinked. By comparison to all the underhanded possibilities and complex turns of phrase shed imagined and been prepared for, this was far more straightforward and reasonable. So simple it felt as if the simplicity itself was the trap.

And she said cautiously, in that case, you will not follow me or attack me.

I wont, the demon said.

And you will not do so if I guess correctly, either?

Correct.

And regardless of outcome, I will not incur any debt to you.

Right. The fox rolled its eyes. Nor will I cause harm to you and yours by any secondary means, or lure danger into your path, or compromise the bezoar, or attempt to use this encounter as a basis of manipulating you with the intention of the aforementioned later. If you guess incorrectly, you will never see me again.

Lillian opened her mouth.

Not because you are dead, but because I will routinely avoid you should our paths cross, the fox answered sourly, before she could even voice the question.

She was keenly aware that he had made no guarantee of avoiding her if she answered correctly. Considering how pliant hed been, she doubted hed refuse if she asked. But to her understanding, not all demons were evil. As a whole they skewed that way, and were nefarious and difficult to deal with, but this one appeared to be exactly what he presented himself as. Curious.

And perhaps a curious demon that had thoroughly promised not to harm her would be a decent friend to have.

Alright Lillian said slowly, reviewing their encounter once more to ensure she had missed nothing. The riddle.

The fox smiled that unsettling smile again. I am always there but seldom acknowledged. Buried deep within yet often on the surface. I am held by both the weak and the strong. A shared burden from birth until oblige. Twin faces I possess, one bright, one dark. In joy I can bring solace, in sorrow, a spark. Born in an instant, yet eternal as the sky. Vanish I might, but never truly die. What am I?

Lillian held back the answer that immediately came to her. Shed initially thought the answer was a soul. It was always there but seldom acknowledged, affected the persons demeanor and everything about them. Most of the entire riddle seemed to align. The problem started at the section referring to bright and dark. As she understood it, souls werent inherently good or evil. They were neutral. It could be a reflection on the potential duality of a soul, that all people had a capacity for good or evil, but she wasnt sure that was right. She still might have gone with that answer regardless if it wasnt for the next line.

In joy I can bring solace, in sorrow, a spark.

Im a memory, Lillian said.

The fox nodded, looking at her with something that felt like pride. Per our agreement, so am I. The glowing bezoar launched up from behind it, like an invisible hand had scooped it up from the ground and tossed it.

Lillian caught it with both hands, trying desperately not to crush or damage the small marvel. It bent to the touch, but felt solid enough in her palm. Warmth and power radiated from it, far greater than the fraction shed felt from the capsule. She looked at the already retreating fox with surprise and gratitude. Thank you.

Of course. The fox grinned over its shoulder. My thanks for the entertainment. Remember to think back on me kindly, after you do great things. Whatever they might be.

As was so often the case Lillian found herself too curious not to ask one final question. What sort of creature did this come from?

The fox stopped, turning halfway. It was quiet for a moment before it spoke. The beings that carry them are cunning, but weak. They are simple enough to hunt if you know where to look, and how to lure them. Something unknowable passed through its eyes. I can show you their nesting grounds in a nearby ruin, if that is your wish.

Her enthusiasm immediately gave way to caution. What will it cost me?

The fox smiled.