[It is Day 22 of Your Quest]
“Nennia, I brought you a snack. It’s…gross.”
As long as Lillia didn’t think about the metaphysical aspects of having a corpse inside her, the discovery she’d made with Eisel’s murder was quite useful. Once a thing was both dead and out of its original room, the body became an item, which meant she could pick it up.
It was a useful but limited revelation. Both the Siege of Castle Varian and the Spellmite Challenge used portals as their exit doors, which meant Lillia couldn’t drag a body with her. Leaving the chitterpede and the Hunting Grounds as her only source of corpses.
Technically, she could exit the Spellmite challenge without using a portal, but it would have involved facing down against Cathria, something Lillia wasn’t eager to do, especially with a corpse in tow.
All of this boiled down to Nennia having to accept offerings from the Grounds.
Nennia answered long after Lillia’s voice had echoed off into the darkness, and she’d been left waiting at top of the stairs in Nennia’s domain. The spider queen answered in a slow, condescending chuckle that dripped down from the rooftop like the first drops of spring rain.
“A tribute my dear? How kind of you.”
“It is a gift between equals, Nennia, not a tribute.”
“You wound me, princess. Always coming into my court but never bending a knee.”
Lillia could tell that Nennia was somewhere above her—directly above—but the Spider Queen still hadn’t revealed herself through the dozens of layered webs that crossed the ceiling.
“Is this truly a gift, Lillia , or do you once again request an audience?”
“I wouldn’t call your home a place I like to visit without reason.”
There it was. The laughter. Again. This time, as it faded, the sound of Nennia’s armored legs tapping against the cave wall followed. She lowered herself down through curtains of white like an actress on the worlds most dramatic stage. The last three layers of silk followed her as she descended, folding around her torso and becoming a ghostly flowing top.
A small group of Nennia’s children followed the Queen down the wall. They moved like single spots of shadow, skittering without any of their mother’s gravitas. They always looked so small as they hovered over Lillia’s conversations with Nennia, but once they were on the ground, half were as tall as wolves.
Lillia held out her right hand and a the carcass of one of the black beasts from the Hunting Grounds hit the stone with a wet thud. She stepped away from the gift before Nennai’s children pounced on it, wrapping it in silk with a speed Lillia had, unfortunately, experienced.
“One side of the bargain kept,” Nennia said as she watched her children drag their prize down the stairs and into the infinite dark. “As for the other…”
Nennia finished her dramatic walk down the wall and stood facing Lillia. She was calm, relaxed. Lillia had learned that Nennia’s spider half gave away much more that the human one.
“Is it finally the day you choose to challenge me again?” Nennia asked. “I so enjoyed our last battle, brief as it was.”
“I don’t believe I’d need to bring gifts to convince you to fight me.”
“There is always the possibility that it was a gambit to prevent me getting the drop on you, young princess,” Nennia said. “It would be clever. Useless, but clever.”
“I request access to your shamblers,” Lillia said. “So that I may practice battle against multiple opponents.”
“Will my children not suffice?”
“I would never hurt your children with their mother watching.”
“And what if I wasn’t watching?”
“You always are.”
Nennia laughed again, but this time it didn’t carry the weight of condescension and it flew to a higher register. There were moments like that in their conversations. Moment when Lillia was convinced that, if they weren’t destined to kill each other and if Nennia wasn’t always one whim away from impaling her, they could have gotten along quite well.
If Nennia was to join Lillia’s list of potential escapees, there would need to be a lot of rehabilitation involved.
“I suppose if the Princess wants the shamblers, the Princess can get the shamblers. As boring as they are, there are certainly a lot of them.”
Lillia held out of hand and called Hooke out. While Viannafir did more overall damage, Hooke’s bonus against incapacitated targets was irreplaceable against the weak willed.
“There certainly are a lot of them. Would you mind sending out a couple at a time so I can—”
“Princess, I am doing you a favor, I’m certainly not volunteering to become your lackey, as the others do.”
Nennia snapped her fingers, and the howl of a hundred webbed souls rose in response.
Sparks flew off Viannafir as Lillia deflected the Silencer’s poisoned blade to the right. Even a glancing blow was enough to nearly throw her balance. Even with all of her levels and her Poise on her side, the secret boss struck with strength that didn’t match his speed.
By the time Lillia was pulling Vianaffir back into position, the Silencer was swinging at her again. Each of his attacks was unconventional, difficult to predict, and harder to avoid. Havoc, Thorne, the Reavers and the Guards all fought in the same language. Their strikes sought mortal wounds.
The Silencer was keenly aware that the smallest nick of his blade would be lethal. He aimed for wrists. He aimed for lagging heels. He aimed for any skin his blade might reach.
Unbound by convention and quick to match the Silencer fought outside of Lillia’s rhythm. She could almost keep up, but each time Viannafir was a breath later than before. Each strike took the two a spark closer to the Silencer’s inevitable victory.
One. Two. Three. Once. Twice. Thrice.
There was a glint somewhere deep within the void under the Silencer’s hood. Lillia was too far behind.
This time, she didn’t try to block. In the second before the blade flashed, Lillia pushed forward, turning her failed parry into an aggressive swing. The Silencer twisted his body to ensure that his blow would land before Lillia’s. Behind her back, Lillia called forth chitin with her free hand. She stepped forward, stomping hard on the ground-summoned chitin to snap it in two.
Brilliant iridescent dust scattered around the pair as the Chitterpede Battlegown unfurled around Lillia and absorbed the blow from the Silencer.
[Chitterpede Chitin Battle Gown - Level 1 - Princess Class Exclusive]
[This item was crafted using the skill ‘Adaptive Regalia’ and will revert to a basic material if removed or if the wearer loses the Princess class.]
[Provides a minor defensive bonus against slashing and piercing damage. The first [2] instances of damage the Princess would receive are instead absorbed by the armor.]
Lillia’s suddenly redoubled the speed of her strike, cutting through the air at an impossible pace. Vianaffir tore through the Silencer’s robes and found something deep within, just as the blade began to cut deeply, the Silencer was gone.
Even with the sudden lack of resistance, Lillia reset her stance faster than she ever should have. The Silencer landed on one of the market stalls. Its hand drifted to where Lillia had cut and dipped inside the robes.
Lillia dashed forward, now with a speed that could, for a brief moment, match the Silencer’s.
[Quick Change - Skill: Princess Class Exclusive]
[When the Princess changes their main armor, their headgear or their footwear, their agility is greatly increased for an extremely brief period.]
[This effect’s duration is extended to a brief period if the Princess is changing into equipment befitting her station.]
[This skill has a moderate cool down. This cool down is independent for each of main armor, headgear and footwear.]
[Day 26 of Your Quest]
Cathria, the glass one, was sitting beside Lillia by the Hearth fire of the Cathedral. It was, by Lillia’s accounting late, which meant releasing Cathria from the amulet before resting for the night.
Most of the time, the Sorceress stuck around to chat, sometimes, she cast a spell to shatter herself as soon as she was released. She hadn’t explained why.
Tonight at least, she was chatty.
“In regards to preparing for battle, neither Thorne nor Havoc will have answers that suit you, Lillia. At least not completely.”
“They won’t? Havoc fought for—”
“They don’t lack experience, but they did not earn that experience as adventurers.”
“Oh,” Lillia looked over to the Sorceress, who was still staring into the fire. “Wait. Were you an adventurer?”
“Hardly,” Cathria said. “Mastery of the Arcane takes independent study that would be difficult in a dungeon. I did technically earn my interface, but I never used it for much.”
“Really?”
“Well, ignoring their extremely truncated use outside of the dungeons,” Cathria said. “Would you rather be a 14th-level adventurer or an archmage?”
“I suppose an archmage, if I didn’t have to do all the studying.”
“If only I was lucky enough to skip that part,” Cathria said. She stared into the fire, and Lillia could see the reflection of a possible past in her eyes, one that Cathria was imagining. One where she wasn’t a simulacrum of glass an age after her true death.
“With my admittedly limited experience, though, I do believe I can offer some advice that they would miss.”
Lillia scooched a little closer to the fire, warming her toes after spending the first half of the day in Castle Varian’s rain.
“I have spoken before about the acceleration required for an Archmage to cast their most powerful spells in a moment.”
Lillia nodded along. That had been one of the times where it was better just to let Cathria talk. The conversation where she’d tried to explain mana acceleration had drifted so far into theory that Lillia could have fallen asleep to it, but the princess had learned that interruptions left Cathria distraught if she was speaking about something she was interested in.
“With so many powerful spells, but a crushing amount of memorization needed to call upon each, we archmages are never able to carry our full repertoire into battle.”
“Pardon?”
“Trying to memorize too many spells lead to memorizing none of the spells.”
Lillia nodded along. It was like titles for visiting nobility.
“So, though magic offered me a perfect answer to every scenario, I began memorizing imperfect answers that fit a lot of shapes.”
“A simple pair of regal flats.”
“Sure.”
“Or like a giant fireball,” Lillia offered to relate.
“A giant fireball is exemplary of my point,” Cathria said. “There are scenarios in which a beam of condensed light would outperform a fireball, but how critical are those instances? How essential is the perfect tool? You can shave down your spellbook by looking at situations and finding the patterns between them. If the pattern matches. Throw a fireball.”
Cracks were beginning to form in Cathria’s fingertips. The Archmage held her hand out, pondering the way the light danced across the signal of her impermanence.
“I can’t throw fireballs, so I believe you’re halfway through your point, Cathria.”
“Ah yes, pardon me. There is usually not much time for beauty in my visits.”
“Take as much time as you need. There’s always tomorrow.”
“There is forever tomorrow. There is still reason to do things today,” Cathria said. She had a habit of doing that, casually making Lillia feel vapid.
“My point being, your skills as an adventurer are similar to the truncated spellbook I keep memorized. It’s critical that with a limited selection of skills, you recognize the patterns and shapes of your opponents.” She folded her hands into her lap, but kept staring out into the fire.
“You will fight a thousand battles in here, Lillia, and perhaps one battle a thousand times. Your opponents will be varied. There will be no single strategy or method of the hunt or skill with the blade that will guide you through every encounter.”
Her gaze drifted downward as something cracked just below her navel. “But looking at your opponent and recognizing the shapes they move in before they have moved.”
Cathria smiled, her voice lifted, and two small spider webs spread from the corner of her lips. “Well, it certainly helped me. And I did okay for myself. Only turned into a monster one time.”
“Cathria, you’re not a monster.”
“I most decidedly am. I am also glass. I am also dead. But that’s life.”
She grabbed the brim of her hat as if she were going to remove it. Of course she couldn’t, it was part of the same glass.
“I suppose saying that it’s life isn’t appropriate in my circumstance.”
“It’s something,” Lillia offered.
“It’s something,” Cathria said. “And sometimes, something’s enough to kill someone you need to kill.”