Valkyrie's Shadow

Winter's Crown: Act 8, Chapter 22

Winter's Crown: Act 8, Chapter 22

Chapter 22

“Lord Cocytus, you were cheering quite loudly back there.”

“Ah – I may have gotten…carried away.”

Ilyshn’ish glanced over at Lord Cocytus, who was scratching his head with a claw as they walked the halls of Feoh Berkana’s Royal Palace. His body language was strangely Human for a being that had six limbs, a hard carapace, and a tail. Was it out of consideration for the humanoids that they were currently working with? She wondered what he was like in the company of his own people.

Following the resolution of the Frost Giant ‘problem’, Ilyshn’ish had returned to the Dwarf capital with Lord Cocytus, his general staff, and the Dwarf Commander-in-Chief. Though the fighting was over, the war council still had work to do: reviewing their strategy, tactics, logistics and putting together all manner of reports. No one displayed any indication that they had anything against this work after work, which went on for days. Ilyshn’ish could only conclude that everyone present was crazy.

Lady Shalltear had taken Lady Zahradnik and Sigurd to visit the remaining Frost Giant populations, delivering the message she had shared with the mob from before. Ilyshn’ish wasn’t sure what to make of Sigurd’s duel, but Lord Cocytus had plainly been ecstatic. He came with great expectations for a warrior people in these Frost Giants and had at long last found what he was looking for. As for what he had in store for them, she had no idea.

Of Lady Shalltear’s actions, Ilyshn’ish could only express her admiration. In a single, masterful move that exploited the very fabric of their culture, she had turned the unyielding Frost Giant society on its head, supplanting their way of life and even managed to install the Sorcerer King as their new god.

Gazing down at the map of the Azerlisia Mountains as their work approached its end, Ilyshn’ish sighed. In the mere span of months, her own reality was turned on its head as well. For over a century, she had lived a life that felt frozen in time by comparison. Her father had been slain, and her family turned into postal delivery staff. She had drawn the scrutiny of a powerful Vampire and ended up as the vassal of a Human not even a fifth of her age. Now, a life of petdom loomed on the horizon.

Ilyshn’ish attempted to weigh what she had gained in exchange, but the scales in her mind lacked the appropriate measures. There was the idea of security and personal safety as long as she kept her head down, and she had undoubtedly acquired new powers and harnessed techniques that substantially enhanced her personal strength. In the face of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s stupendous might, however, it meant nothing and she had no idea what it might mean in the world beyond.

She had been granted authority in exchange for responsibility, and the concepts that drove this notion were entirely alien to her. Gone were the idyllic days where she hunted and slept and explored her little corner of the world; in its place lay…everything. A vast, frightening blank lay before her. Ilyshn’ish’s original dream of a slow and relaxing life of discovery was replaced by a cold, manicured hand that would keep prodding her into the void from behind for the indeterminate future.

The rustle of paper filled the air as sections of the map were lifted from the table. As documents and reports were cleared away, the Dwarf Commander-in-Chief cleared his throat.

“Ahem…I know it’s been a short affair and all, but we’re planning a bit of an after-work party. Everyone’s welcome – we’ll just need to know in advance so the proper preparations can be made.”

“After-work…party?” Lord Cocytus turned his head towards the Commander-in-Chief.

“Just a bit of a thing we like to do,” the Commander-in-Chief said. “They usually host ‘em after finishing projects or meeting deadlines and such. Y’know, celebrating an achievement or a pat on the back or something like that…”

Lord Cocytus looked over the representatives of the Regency Council for a long moment. A few of them broke out into a cold sweat.

“Hmm…” His voice rolled out as if a grave matter was under consideration, “Unexpected, but. We will. Attend.”

“Eh? Really?”

“Mm. Other matters, to discuss. This is…an opportunity…”

His stare appeared to focus entirely on the Commander-in-Chief. The Dwarf swallowed behind his brown beard.

“I-is that so? Was it something important?”

“Yes. Military matters.”

“I see,” the Commander-in-Chief laughed nervously. “And people say we Dwarves love to work. Well, that’s fine with me: it just so happens that I’ve a few questions of my own as well.”

The remainder of the materials on the table were stored away, and they filed out into the palace hallway.

“The local places might be a bit too much of a squeeze for Lord Cocytus here,” the Commander-in-Chief said, “so we’ll just turn the war room back into a banquet hall. We’ve already made preparations, but it’ll be a couple of hours till the other shift wakes up so feel free to take a look around the city ‘till then.”

His relaxed manner caused the representatives of the Cabinet Secretary and the Merchant Guild to turn on him. An argument ensued over proper etiquette when it came to foreign dignitaries. Ilyshn’ish wandered off, weary of the endless expanse of social rules and proper form.

Her reprieve was short-lived, however. In the palace courtyard, she found Lady Shalltear and Lady Zahradnik. Accompanying them were Miss Entoma and Miss Shizu, who had worked tirelessly for the past few days clearing away all of the potential hazards that Ilyshn’ish had marked out for the war council. She took a deep breath and recomposed herself before approaching them.

“Are things finally wrapped up here?” Lady Shalltear asked, “We were just headed up to see if anyone needed a Gate back to the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

“The Dwarves are hosting an event, Lady Shalltear,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “Some sort of party for everyone who was working with the war council.”

“A party?” Miss Entoma piped up from the side, “Will there be food?”

Ilyshn’ish eyed the Arachnoid. Though her disguise might be able to fool the senses of Humans, it was ineffective against her Blindsight. Miss Shizu, too, felt strange, though she couldn’t quite put a claw on what exactly she was. When no reprimand came from Lady Shalltear or Lady Zahradnik for Miss Entoma speaking out of turn, Ilyshn’ish decided it was safe to answer her question.

“I don’t think there’s such a thing as a Dwarf party without food, Miss Entoma.”

“W-we helped!” Miss Entoma said, “Do you think we can go as well?”

“Lord Cocytus said he would attend,” Ilyshn’ish replied, “and it appears that his vassals are staying as well. I don’t see why not…”

“Wai~”

Miss Entoma threw up her hands with a happy noise, skipping up the stairs leading to the palace entrance. Miss Shizu quietly walked off after her.

“Will you not be attending as well?” Lady Shalltear asked.

“S-should I?”

“It’s an opportunity to practice your social skills,” Lady Zahradnik said. “I think you should take advantage of it. Unless you’re more interested in continuing with your lessons…”

“I’ll stay,” Ilyshn’ish quickly replied.

If she were to choose between eating and Lady Zahradnik’s lessons, the former clearly won out. She could only stomach so much of the Human Lord’s lessons in a week.

“Make sure you behave yourself,” Lady Shalltear warned her.

“You’re not attending, my lady?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“No, I’ll be returning to the Sorcerous Kingdom,” Lady Shalltear answered, “Lady Zahradnik wants to get back to her demesne, and I have something important to take care of, as well.”

Two more people who could think of nothing but going to work after finishing work. Was she the only sane person around?

“Then…have a good evening, Lady Shalltear,” Ilyshn’ish lowered her head, “Lady Zahradnik.”

She smiled and waited until they passed out of the courtyard entrance, then turned around and hurried back into the Royal Palace before they changed their minds and dragged her off. The familiar surroundings of her childhood home comforted her somewhat, but, at the same time, thoughts over an uncertain future shadowed her steps.

Ludmila stepped through the Gate and out into the familiar sight of her humble manor in Warden’s Vale. Despite the feeling that it had taken far longer, it was barely a week since she had last been home. Did all ‘Adventures’ end up that way?

Light steps sounded from behind her as Lady Shalltear followed her through the Gate. Ludmila scanned the interior of the manor, but it appeared that Lluluvien was away.

“Please have a seat, my lady,” she gestured to the dining table. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to change into something more comfortable.”

More comfortable and less ripe. The last time she had changed was on the morning before the Frost Giant ambush. Even on wilderness patrols, one was afforded the time to clean themselves up, so she had never felt quite so icky as she did at that very moment.

“Where’s your maid?” Lady Shalltear asked.

“At home, most likely.” Ludmila answered, “The Vampire Brides should be out working. It’s quiet at night, so they can get more done without interrupting the daily activities of the tenants. Changing clothes on my own won’t kill me.”

“Hm…if you say so.” Lady Shalltear said, taking a seat and waving her away, “Considering how stringent you are with your customs, I believed you aware…”

“Aware of what?”

“The way your religion promotes focus on single vocations amongst its faithful,” Lady Shalltear explained, “and how the local aristocracy has households that perform various tasks for them. These are both measures to prevent build contamination, are they not?”

Ludmila’s hands stopped working over the clasps of her armour. Now that Lady Shalltear mentioned it, various things did make sense from that angle.

By leaving mundane tasks to their households, nobles were allowed to focus on their duties. In this manner, they would gain in their ‘levels’ as nobles without worrying about gaining 'levels' from tasks attributed to their household staff. Even within the organizational structure of a noble household, each staff member tended to be assigned specific roles. As long as they didn’t pursue interests outside of what their tasks entailed, their ‘builds’ would presumably remain uncontaminated.

The tenets of her faith promoted this at all levels of society, but she had never really thought about the more complex mechanisms that had been implemented to support this thinking. To her, people should pursue the paths that they showed aptitude in, and that aptitude was heavily influenced by the bloodlines that went into their parentage. Creating a more advanced societal framework that facilitated what the tenets laid out was a matter she would have to give serious thought to.

“You’re correct,” Ludmila replied, “but the tenets of my faith don’t forbid people from changing their own clothes. With that being the case, I don’t think it represents the risk you’re suggesting.”

Her bracers came off, followed by her vambraces. She was all too aware of Lady Shalltear watching from her seat not three metres away. Over time, It was made clear that she favoured women over men; in fact, the only man she professed to pursue romantically was the Sorcerer King. Ludmila’s back was turned to her, but she could easily imagine her liege’s open leer.

Dealing with the advances of more privileged, higher-ranking individuals was something Re-Estize’s noblewomen had to consider and prepare for. It was, however, primarily men that they had to learn how to politely fend off, so Ludmila had no idea what to do with Lady Shalltear. If it came down to it, their difference in rank was just too great for Ludmila to offer any real resistance.

Well, it wasn’t as if she disliked Lady Shalltear – she was actually very fond of her – but she suspected that too many steps in that direction would end in being bitten. Her liege was looking especially menacing in the last day or so. Immortality was in the offering, but there were still matters she needed to take care of as a Human. She would turn eighteen in the winter, and while it wasn’t required that she had a consort picked out by the age of twenty, it was something that she would have to start thinking about.

Ludmila was about to remove her armour, then realized that Sigurd’s cowl was still clasped around her neck. She should probably return it; it would be simple enough to figure out where it went once they dug up the avalanche that had buried them. Or maybe he would refuse and wait until he could challenge her for it? Hopefully, that wasn’t the case.

She set the cowl down carefully on her bed. Her armour came off, and then her doublet and shirt. They didn’t smell anywhere near as bad as she imagined that they would. Or perhaps she had become used to it…

Ludmila was bumped forward slightly as cool arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She tensed, feeling Lady Shalltear press against her bare back.

“Could it be?”

Lady Shalltear’s excited words brushed over her skin.

“L-lady Shalltear?” Ludmila said nervously.

“A gift,” Lady Shalltear slender hands started to roam, “for me? From Lord Peroroncino? Or from Lord Ainz?”

“My lady, what–”

“It’s alright now, yes?” Lady Shalltear’s voice smouldered, “We can enjoy ourselves as much as we want…”

Ludmila struggled in Lady Shalltear’s embrace, but her liege’s arms did not budge in the slightest.

“Lady Shalltear,” Ludmila said, “Please, wait. I don’t understand – what do you mean by ‘gift’?”

The arms suddenly released her, and she tumbled forward into her bed. Ludmila reached out to grab the cowl, covering herself before turning around. Lady Shalltear’s crimson gaze glowed brightly; both of her appearances carried a curious expression.

“Are you not aware of it yourself?”

“Aware of what?”

Lady Shalltear furrowed her brow, then let out a bemused sound.

“You,” she said, “are dead. Undead, to be precise.”

Ludmila blinked several times, then checked over herself. She looked to be in one piece.

“I don’t feel dead.”

“Well, I don’t feel dead either,” Lady Shalltear told her with a smirk, “but I assure you that I am one hundred per cent Undead. As are you…but I have no idea what you are. Whatever it is, it goes to great lengths to mimic the Human that you used to be…I wonder if you can shut everything off? Or is it stuck like that? Not that I dislike it. I love it, in fact.”

The smirk turned into a supremely pleased smile. Ludmila’s mind whirled. Undead? Shut everything off?

“If you knew,” Ludmila tried to make sense out of what she was hearing, “why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I didn’t,” Lady Shalltear replied. “And I had no reason to suspect. The same thing that was blocking attempts to locate you with divination spells was blocking your Undead reaction.” She pointed at the cowl Ludmila held over her breast, “Once you took that off, I could tell right away.”

Ludmila looked down at the magic item.

“From what I could discern,” she said, “this item bestows a Freedom effect.”

“I won’t dispute your findings,” Lady Shalltear said, “but it certainly does more than that.”

Lady Shalltear held out her palm.

“?All Appraisal Magic Item?.”

Her liege’s expression turned curious as she mused over what she saw.

“An artifact,” she said. “A Cowl of Warding. This must be one of the mementoes that Skuld left with the Frost Giants.”

“Then…then what does it actually do?”

There must be a better explanation to what Lady Shalltear claimed of her. Maybe it lay with the magic item.

“Several things,” Lady Shalltear replied. "The first is a Spell Turning effect, which can absorb up to six levels’ worth of spells per day.”

“It can stop a Sixth Tier spell once per day?”

“Or any combination that adds up to six. Two Fireballs, six Lesser Cure Wounds, three Shockwaves – you get the idea.”

“I see…what else?”

"Second is the Freedom effect that you mentioned. The third is a Mind Blank effect. This protects you from mind-affecting spells and abilities, like your ring. It also prevents any and all attempts to gather information with spells and abilities. Even Super-Tier magic will not work if employed against you for that purpose. This third effect is why Nigredo couldn’t locate you, and why I couldn’t sense that you are now Undead. If someone used a Mirror of Remote Viewing to look at this room, they would only see me: you wouldn’t appear at all.”

“I-I should really return this to Sigurd,” Ludmila couldn’t think of anything else to say, “this item is invaluable.”

“And what happens when you next visit the cathedral?”

Her mind froze.

“…are you sure I’ve become one of the Undead?” Ludmila asked weakly, “I truly don’t feel that this is the case.”

“It’s not as if I’d lie to you about it,” Lady Shalltear answered, “but if you need some proof…do you have a fast healing potion? The ones imbued with healing spells. Two of them.”

Ludmila retrieved two vials filled with blue liquid from her Infinite Haversack on the bed and handed them over. Lady Shalltear unstoppered the first vial and emptied the contents in her open palm. Rather than the glow of healing magic, a soft hiss filled the air. An acrid odour suffused into their surroundings as a thin wisp of smoke rose between them. The skin of Lady Shalltear’s palm discoloured slightly before returning to its pristine condition a moment later. She set the vial down, opening the next.

“Your turn,” she said.

Ludmila moved at Lady Shalltear’s prompting, then stopped. She licked her lips tentatively. Lady Shalltear smiled.

“It appears that you already know what will happen,” she said. “Don’t worry: I have plenty of spells that can heal you now.”

Furrowing her brow, Ludmila defiantly extended her arm. She faced her palm upwards, as Lady Shalltear had done. Her liege slowly tipped the vial.

Stinging pain shot up her arm. No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t exactly the same as other injuries she had received in the past. She was aware of that same sensation, but, at the same time, she understood that the whole of herself was being damaged.

Before she knew it, Lady Shalltear had emptied the entire vial. Ludmila shook her hand in a panic, only to find that the potion had eaten straight through to the other side. Tears blurred her vision as she looked down at the gaping hole in her palm.

“It’s just a local Alchemist’s potion,” Lady Shalltear told her in light tones. “You can take far more damage than that – at least as much as it took to return you from the brink of death before. Hold still, I’ll heal…”

The hole closed itself, leaving her hand in its previously uninjured condition.

“…or not. That narrows it down quite a bit – Undead races with regeneration are fairly rare. Hm…you don’t have red eyes. Did you get any extra-pointy teeth?”

Lady Shalltear’s eyes were bright with interest. Ludmila, however, lowered herself to sit on the edge of her bed. She pressed her palms against her forehead.

“How did this happen?”

“By dying and getting up again?” Lady Shalltear offered, “I can’t precisely say how it happened, but you should at least have an idea of when. As frequently as you die, it’s probably still a distinct experience.”

Being buried in an avalanche was the only notable event that she could recall. Ludmila hadn’t survived – she had only walked away.