Argrave stared at Nikoletta without batting an eye even as her eyes wavered on the point of frustrated tears. He couldn’t blame her for being distraught that he’d not come to help when her father had been captured. Were his reasons understandable, logically? He thought so. He had to prioritize stabilizing the country over saving one man. But with her father caught by Vasquer loyalists and dragged across almost the whole of the country, reason probably didn’t factor into the equation for her, presently.
“I’m sorry, Nikoletta,” Argrave said earnestly. Earnest apologies had solved a lot of his problems in the past.
This time, the apology seemed to make her angrier. “That isn’t what I asked,” Nikoletta shook her head, and the bird above her cried out, drawing Argrave’s eyes away. “Why even come now? Had you forgotten? Did my father and I jump into your head as an afterthought one night, Your Majesty?”
Argrave shifted on the back of his horse, looking to the Veidimen behind him before focusing ahead on her. “I came to help.”
Her firm posture crumpled somewhat, and her head nearly met her horse’s as she bent over. “Well, you’re probably too late to do that. The only thing missing to pronounce his death is his body. If indeed we can find that—perhaps he’s been eaten by the centaurs.”
With those last words, Nikoletta turned and rode back towards the fort that she’d just come from. Argrave watched her ride away for some time, then looked to Anneliese somberly. She gave him a sympathetic glance.
Orion rode up beside Argrave. “Cousin or no, that was disrespectful. She should be reprimanded, Your Majesty.”
Argrave side-eyed Orion. “Her father is missing. Don’t tie the noose yet.”
“Does that give her total amnesty?” Orion’s gray eyes seemed sharp even through the small holes in his golden helmet.
Argrave looked at him pointedly. “Think about how you acted when you lost family.”
Leaving the prince to stew on that, Argrave directed his horse forward after Nikoletta. They took things at a slower pace, giving the garrison of the fort ample time to see the approaching honor guard of Veidimen. As had been the case at Relize, they watched with awe at the sight of the hulking warriors.
There was a small stable established at the side of the fort, and their party trusted their few horses with the people there. They walked through the gate to be greeted by three: Nikoletta, Mina of Veden, and Magister Vasilisa. The blonde sister of the Archduchess of the North was a little taller than Nikoletta. Mina had grown her golden hair out long—it was as though she and Nikoletta had traded hairstyles, with Mina’s long and Nikoletta’s short.
“Your Majesty,” Mina bowed her head somewhat. It was strange hearing her refer to him as something other than her nickname for him, ‘Grave.’ She looked to the next, greeting, “Prince Orion. And your friend, Anneliese.”
“Wife,” Argrave corrected flatly, trying not to sound proud.
Mina stared at him with her greenish yellow eyes. “So she’s not your friend.”
That reminded something he’d said to Nikoletta long ago, and he looked at her to see if she thought the same. It did, evidently, because a small smile played about her lips. Soon enough melancholy took its roots in her head again, and the air between them grew somber as it had been.
“Congratulations,” Magister Vasilisa told Argrave, then looked at Anneliese. “I suppose I should call you Your Highness, now. I think you’ll be a good queen. You make this man’s scheming antics seem almost noble, somehow.”
Anneliese smiled. “Thank you, Vasilisa.”
“And my niece,” Vasilisa continued. “Is she representing my sister well on the parliament?”
Argrave blinked, trying to think. “Svetlana? I haven’t gotten any complaints.” He looked back at Nikoletta. “To the point, though. That little natural disaster I saw on the way in—it was the roots that disturbed the earth, right? Not the other way around.”
“I…” Nikoletta paused. “I was busy fighting those damnable woodland creatures. They nearly killed me. But I… yes, I think so.”
“They’re called Yettles.” Argrave nodded. “Anne, I want you to scout out the roots, tell me what you see. Orion—help me get the Veidimen situated here at camp. I want to make some observations before I press any further,” he commanded, feeling it was starting to come naturally to him.
“I can save you some time,” Nikoletta called out as Argrave started to walk away. “I’ve been scouting with my bird.”
“So it was druidic magic.” Argrave looked at the bird still circling about above the fort’s courtyard. A golden flash flew by it as Anneliese’s Starsparrow surged out, already moving to scout as he directed. “Very impressive. That means you have reached C-rank. I thought so, but—"
“There are a lot of elves on the opposite side of those roots. They very nearly killed my eagle.” Nikoletta looked in that direction, lifting her head upwards towards the top of the redwoods. Even behind walls, one could see the trees nearly anywhere. “They’re building strange structures atop the offending trees. More of them come every day… but I haven’t seen a single one on the ground, yet.”
Argrave took a deep breath. “I’ll figure things out,” he promised.
Nikoletta stared at him. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking at that moment.
#####
Anneliese’s scouting deemed it safe to approach a decent way closer. Argrave was beyond curious. Enemies couldn’t dynamically transform the terrain in Heroes of Berendar—not enemies you could fight, at least. He had his suspicions, but nothing more. He wasn’t sure a closer look could give him any insight, but he looked closely nonetheless.
“Are you going to taste the soil?” Nikoletta asked him as he stared at the great mound of roots that had overtaken the old fortress like a tide. “Will you cut open a pig, read its entrails? However will you magically learn what happened?”
Argrave’s gaze wandered the roots, acutely aware of Mina’s gaze boring a hole in his head. Orion and Vasilisa both stood in front of him as though the thick wooden tendrils might come alive again and assault their party. He wasn’t ruling out the judgement himself. Anneliese watched with a curiosity that suggested she might not be opposed to that happening.
“I see them.” Orion spared a brief glance back to Argrave. “Wood elves. And mayhap they will see us.”
“That big tree in the wetlands…” Anneliese mused. “Where we fought that thing that puppeteered corpses. Waqwaq. These trees look quite similar now to it now that we come close. That one was corrupted, but the point stands.”
Argrave nodded. “It was planted by that centaur Orion fought. Matesh. He was an exile.”
Nikoletta’s gaze wandered between the two of them. “When do you intend to go into the woods?”
Argrave focused on her once again now that she’d said something outlandish. “When I can be sure it’s safe.”
“If that won’t be soon, I’ll go myself,” Nikoletta shook her head.
“When did you become so aggressively stupid?” Argrave narrowed his eyes. “Do you think your father would like it if you died searching for him against the advice of people that care for you? This place is dangerous. You almost died. I didn’t think I’d be the one that reminded you of that fact, but here we are.”
Mina nodded in agreement, but Nikoletta was undeterred. “What do you know?” she turned her head away, seemingly undaunted.
“About losing a father?” Argrave looked at her.
Though technically true, the words were empty. He supposed he did miss his real father on Earth, but it felt… different. Regardless, it seemed to strike home for Nikoletta, and she looked guilty. Argrave thought her behavior was rather odd.
In Heroes of Berendar, Nikoletta had changed after the Veidimen sacked Mateth. Many of the people she knew and loved died. She was colder, harder, and more vengeful in that timeline. He saw stripes of that now—the irreverence, the cynicism, the drive. He hoped to turn the car around before she came to that point. But frankly… he shared some of her pessimism about the situation. The prospects for Duke Enrico were slim if he was in that hell with Rovostar and Georgina as was suspected.
In the middle of the silence, Anneliese abruptly walked away. She headed for the somewhat distant shore. Argrave watched her, puzzled. “Where are you going?”
“Checking something,” she said.
Argrave furrowed his brows, then followed after her. Her steps were hurried, and he had to move a little quickly to catch up with her. They walked along the wave of roots emerging up from the ground, and though Argrave was curious about what she intended he was sure she’d explain in due time.
Eventually, they came to the shore. Anneliese peered out into the slowly crashing waves of the North Sea. Argrave looked behind—on the opposite side was the larger ocean, but the North Sea was contained within land without access to the wider ocean much like the Caspian Sea. Her eyes wandered the coast. Argrave waited, knowing well to let her mind wander where it was going to wander.
Then, she knelt, dipping her head into the water. Orion arrived by this point and cautiously inquired, “Your Highness…?” (C) content.
“Be careful. There’s some nasty stuff in those waters. Don’t want to get an infection or something like that.” Argrave knelt down as he offered that reminder.
After a few moments, Anneliese lifted her head up. She conjured magical water of her own to wash out her eyes, then exhaled. She looked at Argrave. “I saw roots poking out all along the coast. I do not speak of little thin tendrils of roots, either—they are long, thick tendrils, as vast as the pile of wood that we see here.”
Anneliese rose to her feet. “I had always been curious why plants do not accept saltwater like freshwater. I could never find the answer, but I did some tests when I was younger before I was scolded for sabotaging crops. And though different, what I guess… what I guess is that these roots are taking in a lot of salt.” Her eyes wandered back where they’d just walked. She walked up to a root, then looked to Orion. “Cut this,” she directed him.
Though puzzled, he drew his sword and cut it. She collected the severed root and licked it. “Mmhmm,” she said, grimacing. “Tastes exactly like seawater.” She tossed the root to the ground, wiping her hands free. “I observed a similar expansion around everywhere in the forest, not just here. This was no coordinated attack. Something has gone awry.”
“Awry? Very astute, Your Higness.” Mina’s breathing was a little heavy. She had the shortest legs of all of them and seemed bitter about the fact she needed to run to keep up.
“I do not recall you mentioning anything of this scale in our late-night talks,” Anneliese looked at Argrave, amber eyes serious.
“Something of this grandiosity… the closest comparison I might draw is that of the Plague Jester.” Orion stepped to the coast beside Anneliese.
Argrave closed his eyes, thinking hard. “An event this massive…” he opened his eyes and looked to the Bloodwoods beyond. “So suddenly, so powerfully, and with wood-based creatures moving in tandem… forget the Plague Jester—it could be an ancient god.”
“You speak truthfully?” Orion said grimly.
“…yeah.” Argrave nodded. “I wish I was lying, believe me. But… yeah, it could be.”
“What does that mean? What are you even talking about?” Nikoletta stepped in front of Argrave.
Argrave looked down at her. “It means that Divine Feudalism might be here, already. And if it’s here…”
He couldn’t finish that thought, he found.