“You must forgive us, Alma. We were discussing matters concerning…” There was a flash of hesitance on Qu’l-Nia’s face. “You.”
“You were talking about me? Why?”
“You are a mortal of great interest and it is vital we get to the bottom of this with great haste before we move onto other matters,” Derleth answered then motioned at Qu’l-Nia. “I believe my contemporary here has explained in her own way before that you possess great latent abilities, yes?”
“Uh… Yeah. She’s been saying something to that effect. How my eyes—that used to only see glimpses of other dimensions—are now somehow evolving and giving me these weird powers.”
The eldritch man rubbed his chiseled jaw in contemplation. “What exactly are these powers of yours?”
Alma couldn’t help but follow the jagged, black claw protruding from his index finger as it slid back and forth along his chin. “I… I figured Qu’l-Nia had explained It to you.”
Qu’l-Nia looked away indifferently at the mention of her name. Had she been ashamed of something?
“She was very reluctant to divulge any information about you. She seemed to feel that such an action would have been an invasion of privacy and was concerned that it would break your trust. Therefore, she preferred I ask you directly.”
“Really? Q said that?” Alma asked curiously. There had been a small hint of indignation in Derleth’s voice during his explanation just now. It seemed apparent to the ex-soldier that the eldritch man’s recent conversation with Qu’l-Nia had not gone well—perhaps even to the point of provoking her into giving that uncharacteristic response. Or maybe the woman from beyond time and spice was finally growing up?
“Yes. Very much like a dancer at a ball, she masquerades behind a veil of hypocrisy. It would appear that while she espouses the negative influences of emotions, she is not immune to developing a feeble case of affection for lower beings.”
“Oi,” cried Hwalín. “You better watch that pretty mouth of yours. The word you’re looking for is friends. We’re her friends and she’s ours. We’ve been through a bloody lot together and I’ll be damned if it didn’t bring us all closer together.”
“What am I thinking? Hwal’s right! Ask me anything you want, but don’t go talking shit about my friend, asshole! I don’t care if you did technically create my universe now that I think about it!” Alma glanced over to the slump-shouldered Qu’l-Nia, who she noticed had a slight uncertainty in her eyes. Noticing the markswoman’s gaze, the alien songstress returned a gentle smile.
A single grunt escaped Derleth’s maw, who now looked mildly upset. “Daughter of Man, I did not allow you into my abode to show off these embarrassing displays of devotion. Had you been but a mere curiosity, I might have a bit more patience for you, but you are a very dangerous element whose mere presence spell mindboggling ramifications to your very reality and beyond.” He turned back to the eldritch woman, whose smile disappeared as she returned his gaze. “And you. I hadn’t noticed it until just now, but look at you. Relishing in their worship. Growing stronger on it. Admit it, Dancer. That is only the real reason you care about this sniveling planet.”
The meek air around her quickly evaporated as Qu’l-Nia stood up straight and glared at him silently. There was something akin to disgust in her expression.
“You’ve felt it, haven’t you?” he continued, flashing a taunting, crooked smirk. Frighteningly, at some unknown point during his speech, his monstrous visage had returned. “The change to your quintessence as their love for you augments your soul side. It’s quite the delicious sensation, isn’t it? That power. Especially when it’s coming from an Outer One’s monomyth. But it’s a slippery slope, Dancer. We Elders are not suited for this kind of thing the same way the Old Ones are. And when an Outer One’s involved, these things move at a much more exponential rate. Therefore, the more time you spend together with your little disciples, fostering their little belief in you.… Well… Let us just say it will quickly lead to a sort of regression. That imbalance inside of you will grow, eventually becoming dangerous as your mind side begins to rot. Before long, those exact same emotions you so despise will start to consume you. Changing you into something else entirely. You’re already not the same woman you were when last we met. You—” He stopped his speech short as he felt the sudden jabbing of something digging into his back. His head cocked sideways, piercing silver points of light staring directly at the source of the sensation. It was the barrel of Alma’s rifle, aimed point-blank behind the nebulous heart of ice burning cold in his chest.
“I can see it, you know.” Alma spoke with an almost unbridled certainty. The yellow lenses of her eyes burned through his being like two miniature suns. Their striking golden glow cleaved the overcast afternoon with an eerie incandescence. “The sickly black rot inside your chest. I can see it. It sticks out like a big, obvious weak point. Since you were wondering about my powers, that’s one of the big ones. Now I don’t know if a direct shot at this spot will manage to kill you, but I sure as shit bet it’ll hurt like a motherfucker.”
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“I could easily strike you down before you manage to pull that trigger.” Derleth’s voice was slowly growing more feral. As a low droning growl passed through his teeth, there was a sudden stabbing pain in his neck.
“And how about stopping the both of us?” Having found her opening, Hwalín had made the bold decision to leap over to them, leaving a ghostly distortion in her wake and—without sparing a second—had now been digging the tip of one of her swords against Derleth’s leathery throat. The foreign blade radiated a mysterious bluish hue that seemed to have given it the mysterious ability to slowly singe his flesh. “Dear Alma’s not the only one equipped to take one of you down.”
Alma grinned as she heard the Hecatian’s cocky voice on the other side of the eldritch man. She straightened her shoulders and cocked the loaded rifle, in the hopes that the sound would intimidate Derleth, before jabbing him with the weapon once again. “I really didn’t want things to escalate to this point today. But Qu’l-Nia was right when she implied my trust is easily broken. And any trust I held for you is very rapidly dwindling, so listen up and don’t say a word until I’m done. I know you two have some kind of weird, ancient beef, but now is not the damned time! You think we’re a bad influence on her? Too bad! We’ll deal with that when we come to it! Or did you mean a good influence…? I honestly couldn’t tell what you were getting at. So just fuck off with all this cryptic bullshit already! My entire fucking planet is in danger! You don’t have to force anything out of her. If you’re so curious, I’ll tell you whatever you want! We all want the same thing, don’t we? I want to help. I want to be stoked about being a part of all this, but half the time I want to blow my fucking brains out. I am being so driven up the wall with so much nonsense despite there being a perfectly good door I could walk through instead! For madness’s sake, look at what it’s driven me to! And I’m supposed to be the reasonable one! Derleth, I’ve had so many questions for you ever since this all started, but ever since I got here, I can’t even remember a single one. So, let’s you and we just calm down and hash all this out. You said I was dangerous, right? You can start with that.”
“I’d say you’re looking pretty dangerous right now, mate,” Hwalín said candidly while chuckling, in what seemed to be a way to relieve the tension. This was further proven by the laughter that followed.
The elf’s chuckling was joined by a small bout of laughter from Alma, which caused Hwalín to laugh even harder. But their amusement came to an abrupt end when the ice encroaching on both their weapons had finally reached their hands. The piercing cold stung their flesh like countless needles, causing them to fumble and drop what they had been holding as leverage.
“Shit…!” screamed Alma.
As both women scrambled to grab their weapons, their hostage jumped high into the air on powerful legs and in one swift motion, landed right next to Qu’l-Nia.
“Back off from Nia, bastard!” Hwalín had readied both blades this time. She bared her fangs in an intense display of intimidation.
Alma took aim.
“That is enough,” stated Qu’l-Nia. Her expression had returned to its typical stone-faced self. “Stand down, you two. If Derleth had wished to do so, he could have killed you both in an instant.”
“Huh?” Alma lowered her rifle. “What are you talking about, Q? I had that situation under control… Didn’t I?”
“Alm…” called Hwalín faintly. Her eyes were downcast as she lowered her weapons. “Nia wouldn’t lie. This bastard’s been toying with us.”
“Very well, Daughter of Man. I will agree to stand down, if only to move past this farce and to the matters at hand. But make no mistake—know that if you test my patience again, I will end you just like that.” Derleth snapped his fingers in an illustrative show of force, using an unknown power to create an array of deadly icicles. Forming from the moisture in the air, sharpened shards of ice rapidly appeared in a conical shape in the space surrounding Alma.
Alma slowly turned her gaze to the deadly formation above her, her eyes widening in shock. Her body wanted to flinch, but it stood paralyzed as if accepting its fate as a pincushion. A flood of thoughts raced through her head, scenarios in which she could defend against such an attack. She wondered if she could shield herself with her portals. If only her power were more precise. She tried to swallow, but the cold air had dried out her throat. The ex-soldier looked over to Hwalín for comfort, but the Hecatian was dealing with icicles of her own.
The strange sound of heavenly warbling broke Alma from her thoughts. She looked around, searching for the source and noticed Qu’l-Nia was missing. From her spot—rather than tracks of footprints—was a long single trail in the snow that led to the alien woman now standing in front of them. She had moved faster than Alma could even perceive, failing to understand how exactly she moved. Not only that, but for a brief moment, it appeared that the eldritch woman had also been standing on one leg as she arrived with her arms together in front of her. There was almost a graceful air about her. However, what was most astonishing was the swirling vortex now spinning intensely around her. A glacial whirlwind made up of the icicles that had just been trained on them.
“The feeling is quite mutual, Derleth. Do not think I would simply stand aside if you actually attempted such a thing. But I believe they grasped your point.” The volatile vortex suddenly dissipated into a puff of frosted air. “I do hope we finally understand each other.”
“You never cease to amuse, Dancer.” Derleth brought his beastly hands up and clapped them together, his frightening maw curving into a crooked smile. The eldritch man was applauding whatever imperceptible moves she had made to counter his attack. “Your exquisite movements are as graceful as always.”
To Alma and Hwalín’s surprise, Qu’l-Nia took a bow.
“Strong praise from my #1 fan,” the Dancer replied.