Alchimia Rex

“Wake up.”

The splash of water yanked Rick out of his sleep. He became a tangle of limbs and gasps, spinning around to make sense of what was going on. The chain around his neck cut off the air, driving him to grasp at the cold metal and stumble. “I said up, slave!” A male voice spoke. The second yank forced him to his feet, the bright light blinded him.

By the second stumbling step, Rick’d realized his hands were free and that his captor was human. He gripped onto the chain with white-knuckled strength, mind a whirlwind of action. His third step was certain, and he used it to take a swing towards the blur in front of him.

Whatever he'd hit, it had been meaty. And it had fallen over. Rick was yanked further, and he fell over the man who'd not released the chain. His vision was recovering, and he made out the lean figure of a man who probably held thirty kilos worth of muscle over Rick. Action followed the realization that this was his best chance at escape. Rick straddled the man's chest and rained blows down on his face and ears.

Three swings and his captor had raised his arms to defend himself, letting go of the chain. Breath short, head still spinning, Rick yanked the chain away from the captor’s grasp and broke into a full sprint towards the nearest exit. What had been stray beams of light became open space. He was back to being half-blind under the glare of the sun.

Was it morning or noon? It didn’t matter. Rick half-stumbled, squinting and recognizing several figures approaching him. With no time to stop, Rick started running in the direction that had the least number of people. “Girls! We have a runner!” someone shouted, booming with laughter. “He’s going for the pens!”

“Someone stop the little man before he becomes mince meat.” A second voice called out.

By Rick's estimates, he'd traversed a total of five meters before the truck ran him over.

It probably wasn’t really a truck. It was green and wore clothes made of heavy furs, but it might as well have been a fully loaded eight-wheeler. Rick’s everything was thrown off axis, and he became airborne. But humans had no way to sustain flight. Gravity caught up, and he collided back with the earth at high velocity. His body entered a wild tumble, trapped in a spin cycle that had been powered by cocaine.

Skipping like a rock across a lake surface, he came to a grinding stop. The first thought that made it out of his rattled brain was that at least this wasn’t as bad as asphalt. It didn’t make his current situation any less painful. Everything felt scraped and bruised.

Someone was shouting, commanding, and angry. Rick's vision regained focus just in time to see an Orc dressed in thick leafy clothes, bowing to another maiden.

This new maiden appeared as if plucked straight out of some sort of fantasy novel's definition of a lieutenant. The maiden wore a light gray metallic breastplate, with her arms and legs protected only by studded leather. The maiden's skin was ashen, cracked like dry clay, the grooves within glowing a bloody red and making her appear like a statue that came to life by some unholy power.

“You short-brained idiot!” the armored maiden roared, lashing out at the Orc, obsidian blackened claws digging into the green flesh and tearing bloody strips out of the maiden’s face. “I need him alive!”

The green-skinned muscular giant fell and shrieked like she was nothing more than a child, clutching at her face and thrashing on the ground. Dark veins spread from the injury, smoke rising rather than blood. Several of the others gathered quickly pulled her away from the gathered crowd.

“Anyone else have any smart ideas!?” Glared at the crowd, turning to face Rick.

Her face was predatorial, brutish and broad. Her eyes were devoid of irises or pupils, merely a solid red that glowed in tune to the bloody color within the cracks trailing over her body. She approached slowly, looking at him. The gash of her mouth opened into a smirk that contained too many sharp teeth and was too wide. It gave the very distinct impression she was built to bite down and rip flesh from her prey.

“What a brave little man." She stepped closer, looming over him. "I don't sense the slightest fear. Are you even aware of your situation?”

"Honestly? I've seen scarier." He wryly replied.

"A fool, then." She reached out to him. Any attempt he made to struggle was futile. Her grip held that same unstoppable strength that Monica used whenever keeping someone away from her meal.

The creature pinned his head to the dirt with one claw, the other reaching up to her neck. Cruelty shone through her red eyes as the singular digit was marked with the red energy of her claws as she punctured her own flesh, drawing out black blood and coating her digit with it. Rick struggled, kicking and wriggling, and finding her body to be no different from stone, her grip as unrelenting as Monica’s when she got serious.

“I really don’t recommend you do that,” he declared with a strained breath.

The maiden didn’t answer, grasping his hair and forcing his head to the side, using her blood-coated claw to pinch into his flesh. It was barely a prickle. “This should be enough.”

Rick remembered the first time he’d been burned by acid in a laboratory. Compared to this, the instantaneous burning experience was much but a sample. The point he’d been injured was producing a blinding heat that quickly spread over his whole body, burning from the inside of his veins. The maiden let him go. He could do nothing but thrash, much how the Orc had.

“If you try to escape… it will get far worse than this. Remember that.”

With her laughter echoing within him, the world spun out of control as the fever overtook him from the inside out. Any semblance of consciousness was wiped away. His body was so impossibly hot, and everything else so impossibly cold.

***

***

Rick opened his eyes to darkness.

For a moment there, he wasn’t even sure he’d woken up at all. Nothing felt broken, but everything felt like one giant bruise. Had he actually broken bones in that tackle, or had someone patched him up? It was hard to tell between having been partially healed or not.

“Are you lucid?”

He recognized the voice. “Eva?” Groaning, he tried to move, felt the chains weighing him down, and opted to just lay there. What had they tied him down with? The metal was the thickness of his damn thumb.

“What is your name?”

Where was this coming from? “Richard.” He grumbled, blinking away the cobwebs inside his head.

“Where were you born?”

Without such a thing as ‘Arizona’ in this world, he went for the place he’d shown up at. “Astunes.”

“That is such a terrible lie.” Eva deadpanned. “But at least you’re no longer babbling nonsense things about light having a constant speed.” She let out a disappointed sound. “You’ve been in and out of it for several days now.”

“It feels like it.” He frowned. “And light in a vacuum…”

“Fluctuates in speed. It’s easy to prove with the proper ritual.” Eva’s voice carried with it a chiding tone Rick wasn’t sure he liked. “Or if you cause a ritual reversal detonation… that would be far more violent, however.”

He tried to growl, but found his ribs ached at the sound. “I know you think you’re making sense, but you’re not.”

Fucking magical elemental energies and their reality bending bullshit. He was absolutely sure their experiments did not follow any agreeable standards. But that was a problem for future Rick to hit his head against. The powers-that-be in this world would undoubtedly have their own rules he'd have to untangle to the ones he was familiar with. Because if things such as the speed of light no longer mattered, then he should probably be dead. Physics was unforgiving in that regard.

The only response he got out of her was an annoyed exhale. “Uncultured commoner.” She whispered under her breath, apparently unaware he could hear her.

Rick attempted to move again, barely shifting and clinking the chains. Whose idea had it been to chain him up with the crap used to hold up cruise anchors? Or maybe the point was to make it hard for him to be moved around, even at the hands of a maiden. Either way, he was left land-locked and uncomfortably unable to move on his own.

“Monica is going to be so pissed.” He managed a weak laugh.

Eva's stare was like a physical force against his skin. He couldn't determine where in the darkness the Fledgling was, but he could guess at the general direction. And at the fact that she was fixated on his throat. Sighing heavily, he leaned back down into the bundled cloth.

“Did you take care of me while I was out?”

His question went unanswered, which might as well have been an admission.

“Thanks, I guess.”

It was uncomfortable to know that she was gazing him so intensely, yet being this quiet. Especially when that focus was on his jugular.

“Can you… wait, you can’t make a fire, right? Crap.”

"I know a spell that could make cold light," she whispered. "But that was meant for humans. The... elemental energy within me is incompatible with it."

Rick sighed. "I always wondered about spells, though I never had time to read about them. Too focused on other things." Other things like finding his bearings, or trying not to die, or running away from trouble, or trying to figure out a way to make sure Monica could adapt to a society he himself was not very knowledgeable of.

"Spells are the formulaic application of elemental energy in very exacting ways. Everyone has some of that energy within them, though I've seen human babies with more of it than you." She sighed heavily. "Mine used to be three-fourths fire and wind. But now it's all darkness."

"That's not what I'd been wondering about." He chuckled. "I just... spells, elemental energy... What I want to know is how they do what they do. How the stuff enables you or Monica to jump into shadows, or why you can do different things with the same power."

"That is no different to asking why things that go up go down, why the wind blows, or why the sun shines. Deep questions none know the answer of yet."

Rick pondered on whether he should answer those very questions. He wouldn't have hesitated had it been Dia, Monica, or even Kiara. But this was Eva, the former human who'd insisted she'd be dropped off in Sinco. She was not part of the group. Which left him silently staring at the ceiling. There was little doubt she also knew a lot more than she let on. She was smart. Would it be worth the effort to properly recruit her rather than have her hanging at the edges?

A consideration for some other time.

“So… you know what’s going on outside?”

“Why did you do it?” Eva blurted out.

“Make a run for it?”

“Not that, the… before, the bite. Under the rock.” There was an edge to the words, a trembling hesitation.

“What?”

“No. It doesn’t matter,” she blurted.

Rick tried to shift to see if he could at least look at her as they talked and slumped when he failed to spot anything other than darkness. “You sure?”

“It’s… nothing, forget I asked.”

“We might as well get back to my original question,” he said.

Eva let out a dejected mumbling sound. “The charmer did what charmers do. She betrayed you.” In the dark, it was impossible to see the eye roll, but it was obvious in her tone. “Your dull wits have doomed us all. Put us into the grasp of the maidens of cursed blood.”

“Vampires?”

”Yes.”

“So… like you,” he replied. “Fledglings can become Vampires and all that, right?”

“I WOULD SOONER DIE THAN-” The shadows all around him somehow shuddered, and immediately stopped. She took a calming breath before continuing. “Fledgling blood is not cursed. Only a Vampire can make Fledglings.”

Rick’s eyes widened. “Wait, then the ash-skinned bitch?”

“A Ghoul. That which Fledglings will become if they don't turn into a Vampire first.” Eva intoned. “The Ghoul marked you, but you shouldn't worry, Ghouls aren't cursed to spread their condition to others.”

“Curse of ferality, curse of blood… you guys have a lot of curses going around.” Rick shook his head. “Do you know anything about what happened to Monica and Dia?”

“The charmer left them to their death. Their bonds have surely broken from the distance alone.” Eva spoke with bitterness. "They'll be feral soon, if they haven't died to something else. We are doomed."

"Is... this place private?"

"What?"

"No, nevermind."

He could feel the bond with Monica and Dia, still going strong. They were alive. But there was little else he could glimpse from those two connections other than them being far away. Should he mention anything at all? Who might listen in on their conversation? He focused for a moment. The duo were too far away to make anything out. But it was impossible to miss Kiara's curiosity-stained brand of anxiousness, she was very near too. And Eva... was impossible to read. She was blocking her emotions out, as usual.

It meant Kiara had left Dia alive. No other way around that. The Succubus could have had her killed, no questions asked.

But that Monica had not burst through the door concerned him. Not if he'd been here for several days already.

Eva growled in annoyance. “As I said, your lack of-”

“Let’s not waste breath complaining and start thinking of a way out.” He interrupted her, not looking to bite on whatever bait she was trying to set up for a discussion.

It took her several seconds to respond, “There is one… For me.” There was a heaviness to her tone, a frayed edge that carried fear with it. “The… Ghoul made an offer.”

“One you can’t refuse?” Rick tried to laugh.

She didn't. The pressure of her gaze only became heavier, her focus fixated on his throat. Something in the bond shuddered, a sudden overwhelming thirst that clawed at Rick’s gut. Not knowing exactly where she was gave him a sudden dangerous edge to their conversation, the feeling of a lamb that knew there was a wolf hidden in the bushes nearby.

“Are you… hungry?” He forced himself to keep his tone even, calm.

Dia had warned him that maidens that needed special kinds of nourishment had powerful feeding instincts. Fledglings, much like their creators, the Vampires, fed on blood and the energy drawn through fear. And he was one giant sack of meat and blood, a meal that was pinned to the ground and unable to escape. It was something he'd learnt to do with Monica. She could catch on to his emotions instantly. If he was nervous or angry or anxious, she'd react.

He had to remain calm. He had to appear in control. Whatever he did, he could not allow himself to appear like a meal. Bond or not, if she fed, it could very well mean he’d be sucked dry before she realized it.

“Yes, I’m… I…” There was an apology somewhere in those words. Her red eyes shone in the dark. She was so close, her hot breath washed over his neck. “It’s…”

“Eva. Step back.” He barked the command at her, sharp, loud, and clear.

His eyes were hard as he clenched down on what little of the bond he could grasp. The sensation was not too different to what he'd imagine he'd feel if he stuck his fingers into a live socket. The feelings from her poured through his body in a tidal wave, and he found the sensation of sand running down his throat, his mouth dry, the very act of breathing scratched his lips, made his lungs ache and his stomach cry out in agonizing emptiness.

The maiden turned away, vanishing back into the shadows. “Sorry, I… I-” her voice came through in a choked sob.

The door to the prison cell swung open, a flood of daylight followed, blinding them both. Kiara's voice called out. “Three days and you’re still able to hold back? Do you care for the little man that much?” She had a way to add a coo to her every uttered syllable that made the mocking words feel like an open invitation. She entered the cell with a sashaying silhouette breaking the light, casting a shadow into the darkness.

“YOU!” Eva screeched, jumping at the Succubus in a whirlwind of crimson shadows.

Kiara’s hand glowed a dim purple, and she backhanded the Fledgling with impeccable timing. The impact carried enough force to send Eva across the room.

She didn’t get back up.

“Since you’ve been able to hold out this long, Zagan has ordered that you’ll get to meet the Lady in person before you get the chance to feed.” Kiara stated with a bored yawn. “After that, you’ll be taught the joy of service. Vampire blood being addictive to Fledglings and all that.” She laughed, turning to look at Rick. There was a flash of concern in her eyes as she carefully looked him over. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, leaving the mask of mockery in its place. The Succubus turned to look at someone outside. “You, the one with the thousand meter stare, fetch me the toy. If he will not serve as an appetizer to our prisoner, then he might as well be put to work with the other slaves.”

A far larger figure stepped into the room, an Orc, the green maiden lifted the chains holding Rick like they weighed nothing. Meaty fingers undid the locks, and he was flung over the maiden’s shoulder like he was nothing more than a sack of flour.

“Tie the leech up.”

Kiara’s voice rang with the crack of authority, her gaze sweeping past Rick as if he were a part of the background. He grunted and flinched when the Orc carrying him stepped outside and several Goblins rushed into the cell. The sun was no less annoying than it’d been the last time. But now he had a chance to look around.

It was some sort of conglomeration of… circular huts? Yurts? Each structure was circular and made of wood, with a flattened cone as a roof. Crude but direct, most of the yurts had windows and no doors, but Rick’s was different, thicker, without obvious ways out other than the entrance itself. It looked like it'd been cobbled together within hours, and that it was not meant to last even a month.

Rick’s eyes returned to the Succubus as she glanced his way, the maiden was no longer wearing the plan brown 'commoner' dress and now had a silken green tunic embroideled with golden lines and exposing an ample amount of cleavage. It made her look like a noble, one that was in this tiny little dirt-village out of either charity or coercion.

“You were waiting on the other side of the door to step in if Eva tried anything, weren’t you?” He chuckled.

Kiara nearly tripped. The maiden quickly looked around, then at him, glaring. “Shut up. I’m finally free,” she intoned loudly, voice faltering for a moment as she caught regained her composure. “And the first thing I want is to never hear your voice ever again.” The Succubus reached out and grasped his hair, pulling him closer and staring into his eyes. “You’d be more useful if you at least knew who killed the Vampire in Balet.” She emphasized every word of the lie with a slow nod, her face nothing but a mask of exaggerated disgust.

He frowned with a mild feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

So this wasn't merely related to Vampires, but it was directly tied somehow to the one that had attacked them back them in the Earl's city.

She let go, scoffing and shaking her head. “You’re little more than a toy. Perhaps you will be allowed to kneel and pledge yourself to the cause once you've proven your worth.” A cruel plastic smirk spread across her lips revealing pearly perfect teeth, her face stiff and her shoulders set in stone. The fakeness of her expression took an edge of forced amusement. “I know, a weak male like you working as a cook. That would be quite fitting.” She laughed. “Off he goes, then.”

The Orc carrying him let out a loud snort and marched off.

Rick thought fast. What did she know? How could she help? “Dia and Monica… they’re alive.” He declared, meeting her gaze squarely. “I’m sure of it. You’ll regret this!”

Kiara jolted slightly. Her lips twitched, the mask melted away into an honest smile, her shoulders relaxing. “The healer and the house cat?” She laughed loudly, sticking to the act, that same annoying grating sound she used when she wanted to taunt someone into attacking her. “An empty threat from a man who doesn’t know his place.” Her voice raised, projecting it outwards for everyone to hear. “They’re feral by now, soon to be dead. Off with you.” She turned away. “I have more important things to do.”

His gaze lingered on the back of her head and the bob of her horns, then shifted lower to the peach-shaped rear and the happy sway of her hips along the casual, relaxed flick of her spade-tipped tail that followed every step. Rick felt his body flush, and Kiara looked over her shoulder at him and winked, the smirk plastered on her lips full of smugness.

With that out of the way, it was time to find out what his "job" was going to be.

The green-skin lugging him around was equally impatient to find out. Hers was not a gentle touch, and Rick was left suffering the fate of having his bruised body bounced against her rock-solid shoulder. Not exactly pleasant, but it gave him a chance to take a better look at this conglomeration of wood that was the "tribe".

It was a conglomeration of fifty or so huts, and a wall of closely packed trees surrounded it in every direction. From the inside of the camp, the trees looked like a fortification, but if the trees were any sign, he had suspicions that from the outside it would look no different to a grove. In the center of the camp was no large tent or construction, but a large flat area covered in crops. It was roughly twice that of a football field, and there were dozens of maidens and humans tending to the harvest.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking at. Then it clicked. A line of younger maidens moved in the front, carefully planting seeds. Behind them there were the Elves, waving around sticks that glowed with green light over the soil. With the energy, the plants would visibly grow bit by bit as the sharp-eared maidens moved forward. In the middle of the line there were the humans, harvesting. And last in line was another group of maidens, burning what was left and stomping the hot ashes into the ground.

It was as much a ritual as it was an operation. They inched forward ever so slowly. Each individual in line would move a step every handful of minutes. It was clear they each knew exactly what they had to do, and Rick was stunned at what he was looking at. An entire season of harvest within… hours? Days? Both maidens and humans looked like they could barely hold themselves up, dragging along as each step that hesitated was met with harsh bitter punishment from the Goblins that surrounded them.

It felt like a miniaturized slave plantation, one powered by fantastical powers. But Rick didn’t get much of a chance to see more of the spectacle. His ride had turned towards one of the larger huts.

And sprinkled all around the tribe were maidens wielding whips, bows, and spears. They all looked intentionally intimidating and eager for an excuse to use their weapons on someone. It was a village in its own right, and the size of it was impossible to ignore if they were all bandits in some way or another. To Rick, it was clear this problem was far better organized than anyone in the kingdom’s payroll suspected.

His thoughts began to turn towards escape, the warnings, the dangers. The part that unnerved him was that he wasn’t sure what to expect out of the blood-suckers. Having only met the Ghoul here, his previous experience in Balet had been overall very brief. The thing she'd done to him also didn't sound like something he was going to enjoy finding the details of.

He couldn’t help but grimace.

Eva was right.

He’d put them into some deep shit.