I simply lay there, next to Celyz, naked in the grass under the noon sun, the wind is just cool to be refreshing without dispersing the pleasant heat. Her waist slightly protruding compared to the rest of her body because of the base of her tail. The smell of her sweet earthy fragrance mixes with my sweat in the swirling air.
Our escort of warriors and scouts are silently guarding us, the only sounds we can hear, apart from the occasional bird cry, are the faraway ones of hammers striking nails into wood.
“I think you should keep your distance once you reach Meria, observe things from a safe location.” Celyz speaks up. “Princesses aren't allowed to join combat unless there is no other choice.”
“This plan hinges on my ability to take down the Duke and convince the defenders that surrendering won't cost them their lives.” I reply firmly.
“Perhaps you should abandon the plan to focus on Cetyz. We don't need you to put yourself at risk to take the city.” She says, caressing my stomach with a tendril.
“I.” I start but think it through and decide to stay quiet.
“What is it?” She asks.
“I don't want to hurt your feelings.” I respond quietly.
“Tell me.” She urges.
“My priority is to save human lives, Celyz. I owe it to the Izla after all those who died for me to get this far. I won't leave until this is resolved.” I say. “Not before I gouge Nobility. Not before I prevent a useless slaughter.”
“I understand.” Celyz says, but I can sense that her temperature lowers. I wonder what that means but I suppose it's obvious, she disagrees. “How many Rykz do you need?” She asks.
“As many as you can fit inside however many crates you have.” I reply.
“The size of the boxes needed for one Rykz to fit in length would allow us to put two inside side by side, or one harvester.” Celyz says.
“The barges should arrive tomorrow, late in the day. We need to be in position by then.” I comment.
“That will make for a tight schedule, I'll send orders to start now.” She waves a tendril, spreading an acrid odor. I detect a half-dozen scouts departing at the edge of my sense.
“I'm going to take another bath.” I say, sitting up.
“Why? You smell good.” She says, taking a long inhalation.
“I smell like sex.” I reply. And betrayal.
“You do.” Celyz agrees in a pleasantly vibrating voice.
The primal pull towards her persists on the back of my mind, combating the more logical part of me that sees my choice to seek comfort at this bizarre being's side as unusual. I chase the small wandering though that tells me I wouldn't have made love to her if not for the limb's influence. It isn't fair to her and it doesn't quite matter. I am what I am, there is no escaping that.
I stand and hold my left hand out. Celyz takes hold of it with her tendrils. I pull her up to her feet. One of her tendrils gets adventurous and caresses my lips. I smile and depose a small kiss on it before making my way to the stream. She joins me inside the water, patiently waiting for me to finish cleaning up.
Just as I finish, a worker arrives with a set of clean clothes of a green color. I step out of the water. While it is pleasant to dry with sunlight, I shouldn't make the mistake of spending more time exposed with Celyz, for both our sake.
I use unstructured flow to push the water off my skin, noticing how much darker it looks. This process should consume a lot, yet it barely bit into my reserves. I take all my energy and assemble it in a ball above my palm. It is at least ten times wider than what I could do as a normal human. I stare at it for a few seconds without reacting.
“You've grown in capacity.” Celyz notes.
“This is insane, how can I have this much access?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around this.
She doesn't reply and simply forms a sphere of her own above her head, easily fifty times larger than the one floating over my hand. It looks like a black sun. After a moment of amazed contemplation, I absorb the flow back into my reserves.
“That's about half of my flow, the rest of my access is held by drones.” She explains.
“I can't even imagine how powerful you are.” I say slowly. “How could they capture your sister?”
“No one is immune from surprise attacks, especially in their own homes.” Celyz replies, shaking in anger. “And there are ways to destabilize external constructs that rely on flow more than on natural forces.”
I nod, remembering the jewel that Patrick wore, it allowed him to disperse the air blade construct before it could cut him in half. I take the clothes from the worker's three-fingered hands and get dressed up. The cloth feels soft and nice.
“Do you know any constructs that could be useful to me now?” I ask.
“Perhaps, but I don't have enough time to safely teach you.” She shakes her head regretfully. “You should focus on perfecting those you know, large-scale constructs are useful but inefficient and you don't have the spare flow to waste.”
“You're right.” I nod.
“Avoid combat when possible. I know you want to have your revenge but please don't throw yourself into fights you've avoided so far.” Celyz says quietly. “Lie in wait, strike quickly and retreat. Have patience, if only until we hold Meria.”
“Hm.” I reply non-committally. “Don't worry too much, I have help and I've managed not to get myself killed so far.”
Celyz makes an odd resounding noise, expressing discontent at my response. She wraps a tendril glowing with black energy around my left limb and pulls my sleeve up.
She transfers flow to my sleeve glove and uses a construct on the tip of her appendage to carve small curved symbols in the leather, the soft angles make it resemble cursive letters. Rykz runes? They don't have the sharp rectangular pattern of human ones.
It takes a few minutes for her to finish. The energy then gathers and concentrates itself on each individual rune. She releases my arm and pulls the cloth over the runic construct, hiding it from detection by sight or heat sense.
“What does it do?” I say, looking down at my arm.
“It will trigger if a large-scale construct is aimed at you and defend you against it.” Celyz explains. “It'll only work once, I'm not skilled enough to program it to only use the required flow.”
“Thank you.” I smile.
“Keep this hidden from Fenyz and my other sisters.” She says quietly. “We need all the flow we have to prepare our siege weapons and what remains is used to protect our army from bombardment.”
“Why are you doing this if you shouldn't be?” I ask, flattered but curious, suspicious even. We are so different, I need to hear her spell out her feelings.
“Because you're important to me.” She tells me in a whisper. “I want you to make it through this. I hope we'll be able to meet once it's all behind us, in different circumstances.”
“I'm sorry, I had to ask.” I say.
“That's alright.” She replies gently. “I understand that you haven't seen us in our best light.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I blame Nobility rather than your Hive. Still, I can't agree with so much destruction to save a single life, even with the stakes being what they are for your species.” I tell Celyz. “But I understand the necessity of it.”
She nods and waves a tendril back towards their camp, inviting me. We make our way back, crossing a field of flattened tall grass and wildflowers, leveled by the Rykz army' huge numbers and the size of the wagon convoy.
We enter the camp through the construction site where thousands of workers are laboring with flawless coordination, not a single one seems lost. Tools and materials are changing hands without a moment's pause, a worker replaces a bucket of nails as soon as the previous one is emptied.
There are warriors carrying building logs from carriages to temporary storage piles. Each piece of timber already cut appropriately to fit with the rest. The workers are assembling sections with them which can later be attached to others to form a siege tower.
We pass by one in its final stage. It is laying on its side with large wooden wedges at the base and ropes attached to the top. The back of it is open and exposed, there are stairs leading up to the platform from where the Rykz can pour out to assault the wall by using the drawbridge. Above that is another level with a large ballista attached to a base that can pivot, allowing them to aim through a wide hatch that can be closed.
I spot a Princess standing in front of a large workbench, there is a long cylindrical bolt with a large metal spearhead, ammunition for their ballistas. She is holding several chisels in her tendrils and using them to cut elegantly formed runes in the wooden portion of the missile.
I shudder at the sight, guessing that my Lady has no idea that the Rykz are fully prepared to counter their catapults. Once we're past the construction field, I wrap my arm around Celyz' slim waist, going along with her swaying gait. She reciprocates by taking hold of my hand.
“Celyz. How certain are you to take Meria?” I ask.
“It will fall, there is no doubt about it.” She replies. “If our army fails to take the rampart... I'm sorry to say that Queen Grikyz has ordered my sisters and me to directly shatter the walls in that case, which would likely kill a large portion of the inhabitants and make it much harder to use the Izla in negotiations. If that attempt fails, she confided that she plans to personally walk down the mountain to end the matter. Mother is determined enough to face censure from the First Queen for taking direct action.”
“Wouldn't Queens be your strongest assets in war? Your mother is huge, I can't even imagine how humans could fight her. With siege weapons, perhaps, but with the amount of flow energy she must have access to... I doubt that those would be very effective.” I comment.
“There are only a hundred Queens, Jessica, the loss of a single one would be devastating. It took us millennia to recover from our civil war, if the Empire were to fell Grikyz after Caeviel's provocation with my sister's abduction... there would be no foreseeable peace between our species.” Celyz explains, worried. “Besides, you underestimate your race's ability to pool their reserves together and use constructs capable of threatening even Mother. Not to mention Queen Halkyz the Mad who was killed by a cold blood horde using simple ropes and chains, seven hundred and thirty years ago. They proceeded to devour her to celebrate their victory. The Azure Hive still wars with them to this day.”
“Let's hope this plan succeeds.” I mutter.
We arrive at the base of the small unremarkable hill, that hides what I assume to be the Rykz' headquarters, and engage inside the tunnel. Just before we reach the main room of the complex, Celyz separates with me but leaves the tendril holding my hand.
Fenyz is standing at the table, for once she isn't wearing her armor nor are there any spearheads affixed to the ends of her appendages. There are a dozen small clay bottles sealed with corks in front of her.
“I think I've succeeded in shaping the orders in such a way that they will only attempt to capture those with the strongest scent but they will switch to assassination if they encounter resistance equivalent to their numbers.” Fenyz speaks up.
Celyz picks up one of the bottles and pops the cork, breathing the air contained within. After a moment of consideration, she nods and puts it back on the table.
“How quickly do they deteriorate?” She asks.
“Barely any changes after several hours, I expect that they can last a month but there is no way to know without actually waiting to see.” Fenyz replies. “You should take over, you're better at this than I am and I think I've done all the preliminary work while you two were...” She pauses, her ovaloid head turning to face either of us in turn. “Oh, I did not think she would reciprocate. Good for you, sister.”
Celyz' tendrils unfurl from around her torso all at once, their frantic movements seem involuntary. As Fenyz chuckles, they slow down and their motions become rigid. I look away, embarrassed by my actions and tormented by the fact that this possibly sabotages all the progress I've made with Leomi, both hers and mine.
“You'll have to guide the Rykz until they pick up on their target's track since they won't be able to scout the area beforehand and cannot read maps, Jessica.” Fenyz speaks up, gently changing the subject.
“We should be able to organize that... I think.” I mutter. “Can you include that 'friend' pheromone? I don't want any accidents if I ask someone to do it for me and the Rykz mistake their attempts to defend their lives with aggression when they bare weapons.”
“That's not a problem.” Fenyz nods. “I've assigned our injured harvesters to you and started gathering a convoy with crates, go down the south-east tunnel and keep going until you'll find it. I also ordered enough food for them to last a couple of days.”
“Will they be able to remain silent during transport?” I ask.
“Yes, I will give them strict orders.” Celyz speaks up.
“I'll also need a dozen crates marked with 'Food' that contain grain inside to use as camouflage for the rest of them but I think that's it.” I comment. “Where is my gear?”
“It should be repaired by now, the worker should have left it at the convoy.” Fenyz says.
“I'll need a bit of time to prepare more of these.” Celyz points at the clay bottles.
“Don't forget to distinguish those with the 'friend' pheromone from the others.” I say. She nods in agreement.
“You said that you would target a section the wall, eliminate the officers, where exactly?” Fenyz asks, unrolling a map depicting Meria's wall and catapult deployment positions.
“I don't know yet, that will depend on what Cecil finds.” I reply.
“Do you trust her?” Celyz questions.
“On this, I do. She could have turned me over at any point. I think things escaped her control and she was forced to adapt. She seems to want to use my image and ability to challenge Nobles to enact change, but that shouldn't affect the here and now.” I share my thoughts as they come to me.
“We'll attack the full length of the wall then.” Fenyz comments. “We'll focus on destroying the catapults during the first assault and deploy all we have during the second one, which should begin just as you attack from inside their walls.” I frown nervously. “There will be no third wave, whether you succeed or not, Jessica.” She adds, noticing my discomfort. “We don't have time to waste, we must secure a beachhead on the continent before Caeviel can gather an army large enough to lock down its coast.”
“I know, this has to work.” I close my fists. “I'm going to train.”
“Remember that if the Rykz can't win, you're unlikely to make a difference by yourself, Jessica. Be careful.” Celyz speaks up.
“I don't plan to die.” I reply.
I look at the various tunnels, a bit lost as to which one will lead me south-east. Celyz points me in the right direction and I head out. It takes me about a quarter of an hour to find the exit, I slip through the bushes concealing it and keep walking straight ahead over a hill.
The convoy is gathered right behind it. A hundred carriages and several times that amount of workers ready to pull them. Each of them carries three crates with their covers laid aside.
As I approach, I notice a column of harvesters making their way here from the north. They're almost all missing one or several of their four limbs and more than half have lost pieces of their armors or blades.
The creatures still look just as imposing as ever, perhaps more so as they seem completely undisturbed by their injuries. The injuries only underline how tough they are to take down and there is plenty of dried red blood on their carapaces to drive in the point that these wounds cost many humans their lives.
I grit my teeth. The war for the Izla will end soon. I start searching the wagons to find my equipment. It ends up being brought up to me by a worker who was standing at the back of the convoy.
The hard leather armor and chain-mail are repaired, almost to their original state. The only sign that they were damaged is a slight difference in color in the materials used to fix the rips. My hammer's head, however, still adorns the cut left there by Edusa when we fought on the Inn's roof.
I put my gear in one of the crates and seize my weapon to start training my overhead blow and feint. I should have used it more in combat, it feels less natural than the quick swings that I've learned to chain together.
It's more difficult to compensate and reverse when striking downwards than it is to rotate it around my back while conserving momentum. Still, I'll need this kind of trick to beat my Lady, I don't want our fight to turn lethal. Although, she may give me that choice considering what I'm planning to use to bait her.
“Once more.” I utter.
I could use Idali to inform Lance that I have the broken silver lion pommel sword, force her to seek me out at a timing where she wouldn't normally leave the castle because she must be ready in case of Rykz attack. What if she doesn't come? That would be my answer by itself.
“Once more.” I speak up.
How do I get her to fight me seriously? I can tell her that 'Jessica' died. No, she might see through the provocation, or refuse to believe it for various reasons, or be thrown back into whatever state of mind she was in when I found her.
“Once more.” I say.
I need something simple. Perhaps that we got into a fight about her and I stole it out of jealousy. That wouldn't anger her to the point of battling me, not unless I insinuate that I hurt 'Jessica'. Some blood on the sword would do the trick, just a little, enough to worry but not so much that she would suspect something.
“Once more.” I chuckle, an idea coming to mind.
I could say nothing and let the blood on the broken blade talk, let her think of scenarios by herself. My refusal to answer should be enough to anger and worry her, the mask will only make it harder for her to read me.