Anastacia stirred the dark coffee in her cup and stared at the swirls of foam on the surface go round and round.
Last night, she had gotten scolded about activating Spirit on her own by more or less everyone she knew. Starting from Emilia and Rosie, then by Dammar, Maximillian and even Xamiliere, who was very disappointed by not getting to save the necromancer. By the time Gilbert and Yulia returned, even the blacksmith and his brother had given her an earful while fetching something to eat while struggling to keep up with all the new orders flooding in.
While it was expected that Gilbert had a whole array of things to say about what she had done, it was somewhat weird to have the usually so gentle and meek Yulia pitch in and tell Anastacia that she was being too reckless.
However, the absolute last straw was when Holly arrived to take over the tavern for the night and upon hearing about the event, she headbutted the necromancer for ‘doing dangerous’.
Though she had been easily forgiven after everyone had gotten their chance to scold her, the next morning was slightly awkward for Anastacia. She had hidden herself in a shadowy corner table with King on her left and Leggy on her right, slowly nibbling away at her breakfast and avoiding eye contact with anyone.
When Emilia appeared from the staircase, her gaze immediately locked on to the necromancer despite Anastacia trying her best to stay unnoticed. The priestess quickly peeked into the kitchen before heading to Anastacia’s table. She sat down opposite to her friend, neatly placed her gauntlets on the table and cleared her throat.
“Good morning, Anna, King and… you?” She said awkwardly.
“… Morning.” Anastacia mumbled back.
Finally getting a chance to take a better look at the new simulacrum following her friend, Emilia squinted and took measure of the suspicious hooded machine. She didn’t like the idea of a stealthy simulacrum in the slightest. Though she had always found King’s stoic silence a bit uncomfortable, he made a massive racket wherever he moved and had about as much stealth capabilities as a cannon with a kazoo for a muzzle; if he was with you, you knew about it, and somehow this made him appear more lifelike to the priestess.
The cloaked simulacrum had none of that going for her. Just by looking at Leggy, Emilia got the feeling that at any moment, she could appear in the unlit corner of the room or that she’d be staring into your room through a window from the opposite rooftop and it made her skin crawl.
Of course, the priestess would say none of this to Anastacia, as she could feel the joy radiating from the necromancer whenever she stopped to look at either of the simulacra.
“So, who is this?” Emilia finally asked and pointed at Leggy. “I know Gil brought them in, but did you manage to fix them or something?”
Immediately perking up when she realized that her mistakes weren’t the topic of the day, Anastacia put her hand on the simulacrum’s shoulder. “Oh! This is Leggy, she just needed a bit of a pick-me-up, nothing these can’t handle.” She said proudly and wiggled her fingers.
“’Leggy’, huh? I suppose being good at naming things isn’t a major part of your skillset, not like unintentional innuendo for sure.” The priestess chuckled and fixed her still a bit messy hair by running her fingers through it. “Or at least I hope most of it is unintentional.”
“I have no idea what ‘innuendo’ is, but I didn’t come here to get critiqued about my absolutely adequate and extremely in-depth way of naming things.” Anastacia frowned and took a sip of her drink, which was starting to get cold.
“The only goblin you’ve named is called Gobby, your staff was called Pokey, the cup you carry in your backpack has ‘Cuppy’ written on it, I’m fairly sure I’ve actually seen you call a guard ‘Guardy’ because you didn’t know his name – not to mention your shoes.” Emilia pointed out the obvious pattern in how Anastacia named things when she didn’t have anything to start with.
The necromancer hit her fist on the table. “You leave the Booty twins out of this!” She demanded in a shockingly serious manner for the subject.
“Exactly my point, both of them actually.” The priestess giggled. “I shudder at they thought of what you would have called King if the goblins hadn’t called him that first – but we’re getting sidetracked. What is Leggy still doing here?”
Anastacia took another sip before speaking. “I have no idea. Not complaining though, easily the best night of sleep I’ve gotten in a while.”
“That sounds extremely uncomfortable and cold.” Emilia said a bit worriedly. She definitely needed to have a talk with Anastacia about being way too trusting at times.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. King is actually pretty warm when you have him do a bit of something first and the humming helps to clear your thoughts.” Anastacia shrugged and bumped against the simulacrum she was talking about. “Besides, there is no better pillow than a cool, smooth, piece of stone. Nor is there a greater bliss on this world than rubbing your cheek on a big beautifully curved plate of stone armor with absolutely no give in it at all. The mechanical hum blocks out the sound of your own heartbeat and lets you forget about the implications of squishy meaty bits flopping about and squirting things inside you it reminds you of. Makes me feel all woozy just by thinking about it, you know?”
The confusion on Emilia’s face had grown after each word that made its way out of the necromancer’s mouth. “Well… It’s nice that you’ve found a way to enjoy yourself.” She said lacking a better comment while awkwardly smiling and already looking for a better subject. “So, what are you going to do about the other one you picked up then? Spirit, I think you called him?”
The necromancer scratched her head and appeared uncertain, she had hoped to just have a chat with Spirit and then figure out a more lasting purpose for him, but that wasn’t in the cards at all for as long as the hag’s powers lingered within the simulacrum. “Can’t you just god-punch the sadness out of him? That’s what your job is, right?” She suggested.
“Anna, we have been traveling together for months now, and you think my job is to punch the sad out of people?” Emilia sighed; she wasn’t too fond of people caricaturizing her profession, since she did take it rather seriously after all, and did her absolute best to spread the word of Sylvia while traveling with her party.
“Name three quests where you didn’t go for the punch-based solution.” Anastacia rebutted in less than a second.
What followed was almost a full minute of the priestess becoming less and less sure whether her job actually was anything more than punching. As she went through the quests they had taken part in, time and time again, she found herself converting people from conscious to unconscious more than affecting their stance on the divine.
“Sometimes people need to be punched so that they and the people around them can find joy within their hearts. Spreading the word of Lady Sylvia is done just as much through actions as it is through voice.” She eventually copped out after failing to come up with a single example.
“Join the church of Sylvia now; you can smile a lot wider with your teeth on the floor!” Anastacia mocked her friend. “To be fair, the way you handled yourself in Hollowrock was pretty amazing and did work out in the end.”
In the early days of autumn, the party had found themselves in a reasonably big mining town by the name of Hollowrock. Originally they arrived there with the purpose of ridding the townsfolk of a deranged earth spirit that had caused countless cave ins, and having successfully done so, Anastacia, King and Gilbert decided to celebrate by visiting a few of the local shops while Emilia took a gander at the small church dedicated to a god called Perlapis and was in charge of the religious affairs of the town. What she had found inside was a group of three priests that had fattened themselves and their purses with ludicrous amounts of indulgences they had forced the townsfolk to buy under the threat of the mineral veins underground running dry. Naturally, this didn’t go over well with the priestess of Sylvia, and by the time the rest of the party returned for their pious friend, she had thrown one of the priests through a stained glass window, beaten another one within the inch of their life with a pew and was in the process of choking out the last one. The townsfolk were later easily converted to at least partly accept Sylvia and the church itself was converted into a shrine for both deities.
Emilia cleared her throat and at least tried to save some of her dignity by returning to the topic of dealing with Spirit. “But as I was about to say, no I can’t just remove whatever ravages mind of that simulacrum. The origin of the powers he carries is something I’m not at all familiar with, and beyond ancient to boot. Even if I could just sap the power from him, it would likely damage his equivalent of a soul beyond repair and do very little to actually help the poor thing. Joy is just one of those things that has to come from within; trying to force it on someone is one of the worst things you can do to them.” She explained knowingly. “My suggestion would be that you figure out where the source of the power is from and look for a sink for the hate and misery that’s similar to it. Whatever it is that you’ll end up doing to offer it catharsis, you will do it with us and not on your own. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah… I’ll ask you first. I’ve got a thing with Strawberry today, so I’ll see if he has any suggestions.” Anastacia figured and finished her drink.
“Hold up, who is this Strawberry and what ‘thing’?” The priestess asked, worried that Anastacia had made more suspicious acquaintances in her and Gilbert’s absence.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Strawberry is the guild official they forced on me. He’s a massive nerd and a bit annoying but not completely unbearable. Anyway, I took one of the pearl things this asshole kept trying to hide from me to the guild and they read it for me.” She explained and pointed at King. “Turns out, it was a message asking me to meet up with someone that I think might have something to do with Leggy, but who knows?”
“I’m coming with you.” Emilia immediately decided.
Anastacia knew that it probably wasn’t going to fly with the guild and the contract they made her sign. “I’m not sure-“
Emilia interrupted her by hitting the table. “No dau- friend of mine will be going to a suspicious meeting like that, not without me at least. If this ‘Strawberry’ has a problem with that, he’s free to have that problem in the ditch he’ll find himself from!” She declared triumphantly and pretended like she hadn’t just almost misspoken.
Moderately worried that the priestess would actually attempt to beat up the entire guild if she got too riled up, Anastacia just nodded quietly and stared at the bottom of her empty cup. Not all of the sugar she had added had properly dissolved into the drink and the thick layer of sweet goop slowly moved around when she tilted the cup. Not wanting to miss out on the treat, she lifted the cup high up, turned it upside down and waited for the mess to drip into her open mouth.
Emilia found the scene before her both hard to watch and hard to not watch. She was very familiar with the necromancers disgusting habits when it came to absolutely ruining coffee, but somehow it was always just as disturbing to witness in person every time. The crunching sound of sugar between Anastacia’s teeth made her skin crawl and the painfully long time the necromancer was willing to wait for the final drop was nothing short of maddening, but without a question, the worst part was that Anastacia knew – she was completely aware how much everyone hated it. People had offered her spoons and other utensils, but that had only worsened the issue.
“Just where is all that sugar going? There’s no way that’s healthy.” Sighed the priestess and finally managed to tear her gaze away from the display.
“Fighting my inherited predisposition towards being comically evil is hard work, I need lots of energy for it.” Anastacia explained rather unconvincingly, stood up and grabbed Leggy’s hand. “Speaking of which, it’s time for a refill. Come, Leggy, I’ll show you the kitchen.”
Emilia didn’t get the chance to say anything before the necromancer darted away with the hooded simulacrum in tow. King was about to follow them but for some reason decided against it and sat back down with a somber look to him.
“Feeling abandoned, are we?” The priestess asked and looked at the simulacrum understandingly. “I wouldn’t be too worried. Anastacia is a bit of a special case, as I’m sure you know, and whether she knows it or not, much of what she does is her just parroting what she sees, thinking it’s what normal people do. So while Rosie and I were keeping our thing on the down low, I think she caught whatever issues Gil has and will for the time being just chase whatever catches her eye, but she does have her own dangerously naïve and wholesome personality that will no doubt prevail in the end, and I don’t think this ‘Leggy’ will have much chances against you then – that is, if you start to include her in whatever you have going on these days.” She said and placed her hand on King’s hand.
Suddenly Emilia’s face darkened as she stared deep into the simulacrum’s eyes while grasping the stone hand tighter and tighter, tight enough to start shaking. “What I would worry about is a certain spriggan.” She whispered with an overwhelming sense of doom and fear in her voice.
As they often did, the day following the return from a quest passed by quickly even without much of anything happening. Anastacia was brought up to date about what had been going on during her absence, about the black order, her subsequent popularity and when Gilbert finally joined them, about Iris.
She would have liked to just forget about the whole ordeal with the duke, but not enough to decline free food and drinks from the thankful adventurers. Though eventually, as the bowls and cups piled on her table, she was forced to make an announcement to limit the number of snacks ordered for her.
Of the inquisitor, she was far less delighted to hear about. The way Anastacia had understood her deal with Mournvalley, was that she wouldn’t go out of her way to raze it into the ground and in return, the other necromancers would stay out of her way. This had worked perfectly well for months, but within a week, two inquisitors had found their way out of the filthy underbelly of all creation that Anastacia considered their country to be.
Even though she knew that the field outside Valor had been cleared by her kind, she had assumed it was done by some dime a dozen material gatherers, which wasn’t great, but didn’t really mean much. Apparently wars were scarce during the winter, so it made sense that they would jump on any chance to collect what they could, even if it meant straying close to Valor, but Anastacia knew that sending an inquisitor for such a minor task was complete horseshit – as was the scouting excuse Iris had told Gilbert. Inquisitors had far more important things to do, such as being assholes to nearby nations, like Teal.
She also made it painstakingly clear that if an inquisitor ever came so close to her goblins again, they wouldn’t be making it back to Mournvalley. There would be no questions asked, no pleads heard, no mercy and absolutely no exceptions.
To lighten the mood again, Emilia shifted the direction of the conversation towards Gilbert’s second sudden disappearance, with Yulia this time. Though the rest of his party did their best to probe for any juicy details, the old adventurer’s lips remained sealed on the matter. According to him, a gentleman never revealed what went on in such a private setting, which was most definitely a rule he had never before adhered to. While not exactly boastful of them, Gilbert’s ventures were well known by all and his strange effect on young maidens was considered no lesser to Anastacia’s necromancy or Emilia’s affinity with Sylvia by those that heard of them.
Yulia herself would avoid any such questions by running back into the kitchen, but some things could be construed from the servings brought to the party. Both Anastacia and Emilia still received a bit of extra to their portions, no doubt under instructions from the innkeeper herself. While this privilege didn’t extend to Gilbert, his food had suddenly become beautifully arranged and often came with a handful of berries for some reason even he didn’t quite understand, but every time it happened, the priestess could spot a brief, warm smile on his weary face.
Exactly two hours before midnight, a familiar carriage stopped in front of the inn and the guard driving it hopped down from his seat. Doing his best to not gather much attention, he slowly opened the inn’s door and stepped in to have a look around. Appearing not to be in a hurry he greeted a few of his friends and made his way towards the counter despite noticing the necromancer he was there to fetch.
While Anastacia ran upstairs to get dressed for the cold weather outside, the guard made an order for some food using one of the stamped forms given to him by the official waiting in the carriage. Since his job would consist of mostly just waiting in the freezing wind, out of earshot of the meeting, allowing him some snacks for the trouble was the least the guild could do.
By the time the necromancer returned, he had received a small wrapped parcel of something greasy and no doubt delicious.
“Shall we go?” The guard asked from Anastacia and nodded towards the door. When both of the simulacra and the priestess stood up to join them, he raised his brow but kept his thoughts to himself and held the door open for them as well.
With a second full-size simulacrum and an additional person onboard, the carriage was somewhat cramped, but Anastacia didn’t mind squeezing in between the two machines while Emilia had to share a bench with the visibly grumpy guild official.
Strawberry was not pleased in the slightest by what he saw. “Why is there a venator simulacrum here as well? Why is it in the city at all? We have not authorized this! And why is she here?” He inquired and furiously made notes on the situation.
“I am here as Anastacia’s guardian, to make sure she doesn’t get roped into anything idiotic by you or anyone else.” Emilia stated sternly.
“This is not mentioned in the records anywhere! We can’t just let anyone come along because the necromancer is a moron! There are official forms one needs to fill in first, otherwise we can’t alter previous contracts to take that into account. At the bare minimum, you’d need to sign 99-2-a and b, and the entire 190-series of forms!” The guild official exclaimed and rummaged through the papers he had with him.
“Then give them to me and I’ll sign them, but I’m not stepping out or letting her go anywhere without me.” The priestess remained firm on the matter.
“I… I don’t have them with me! 99-2-b alone is several hundred pages long! I’d have to make a 5-5-7 waiver for you to sign and then you’d have to come to the offices at your earliest convenience and- and- and-“ Strawberry explained and was starting to hyperventilate as the complicated series of bureaucracy required ran through his head.
Emilia sighed. She wasn’t about to back down, but the situation wasn’t about to be solved any time soon either, so to ease the official’s mind, she grabbed his quill and a blank sheet of paper. After hastily scribbling her signature on it, she handed it back and placed he quill in Strawberry’s hand. “There – you have my signature, now write what you need on that one so we can go.”
Still breathing rabidly and dazed, the official stared at the signature. “You can’t just- This isn’t how- But what if-“ He stuttered and struggled with all the breaches of acceptable procedure for filling in paperwork.
With a shaky hand, Strawberry wrote down what he needed for the signature to allow the officials back in the vaults to set aside the needed forms and consider them signed, officially including Emilia into whatever contracts Anastacia had with the guild. “Th... there! You are hereby added to Anastacia’s citizenship form, her quest contracts, the 444-2-c she has yet to move forwards with and the nondisclosure agreement she signed about this meeting and what it may lead to.” He said and sighed in relief over the situation that was in no way intense to anyone else present.
“I’m kind of noticing that I wasn’t asked about this…” The necromancer mumbled but was ignored.
“Can we go then?” Emilia asked and leaned back.
Strawberry turned his attention to Leggy. “We can, but I would still like an explanation for the venator.” He said and knocked on the wall behind him to signal the driver that they were ready to depart.
“The vena-what now? Do you mean Leggy?” Anastacia wondered as the carriage nudged forwards. The official knowing something about the mysterious cloaked simulacrum piqued her curiosity immediately.
“’Leggy’… Sure, why not…” Strawberry grumbled. “Looks to be an advanced venator-pattern simulacrum with some stealth modifications. Based on the markings it was manufactured by Insincere Intention back in the day. In a good condition, all things considered.”
The necromancer clapped in excitement. “A venator-pattern! Do him next!” She demanded and pointed at King.
“You have not explained why- ah, forget about it.” The official sighed and accepted defeat. “Your usual companion is a rare sight to say the least, by classification, it would be an apex-pattern simulacrum, which were only made and used by Erratic Judgement. The purpose of their kind was to fight the more ‘troublesome’ enemies of our creators, while the more common types battled the regular humans and such. They were manufactured from better materials and were scarce even at the height of the Aureun empire, somewhere around a hundred were ever created but even that turned out to be excessive.”
“Erratic Judgement… Where have I heard that before?” Anastacia wondered out loud and watched the priestess get visibly confused by what she heard.
Strawberry noticed Emilia’s perplexed stare as well. “I will leave bringing her up to speed to you, Anastacia, and as for Erratic Judgement, it is completely impossible that anyone would know of them. All records related to them were destroyed not soon after they abandoned their purpose and started the downfall of their creators, even we only know this much because we were there to see it. There is absolutely no way you could have heard of them from anyone but us – and there is absolutely no way that we would have told you about them.” He stated confidently as the carriage departed from the city.