The soothing smell of petrichor filled her senses and pleased Freya to her very core. She knew she'd yet to leave her own country behind due to this peculiar scent and the mild, agreeable weather. This would soon change, and she knew to savour every moment she possibly could.
Carefully processing such emotions is a process more should be able to enjoy, she thought. In the time she spent in the northern reaches of the country of Lindblum, she slowly learned to let go of anxiety and even her bitter obligation and enjoy the small joys of life and nature. Today, right then, she'd go to even further lengths to acquire a well-brewed cup of tea. A trait she shared with the man who'd turned her life upside-down, a fact she was painfully aware of. While it had no real bearing on their personalities, to be compared to that monster was enough to make her skin crawl.
Turning thoughts away from this most hated goal, she decided instead to focus on the light rain pouring down and touching what little skin she left uncovered. She put her fingerless gloves away in pockets in her travelling jacket, suddenly finding herself at the perfect spot to properly live in the moment.
A large clearing stood before her, a single, humongous tree with crimson leaves that marked the old border between her country and the conquered nation of Sarin. Such as not to draw the attention of mighty Lindblum upon them, the empire of Evermore decided to erect their mighty barrier further south, unofficially yielding a patch of land to their neighbour. Freya could see the imposing stone wall from where she stood, even so far away.
One obstacle at a time, she told herself, stretching her arms out to make more of her skin a recipient for blessed rainwater. A sudden gust of wind introduced some moisture directly to her face, and she closed her eyes instinctively. The cold felt refreshing, as she'd been walking for hours by now. Her eyes snapped open when she felt something touch her arms. A red leaf had swung free from the huge tree that stood just a ways ahead and stuck itself to the dampness of her skin. She stared at it for a few seconds before another gust sent it flying off into the distance.
She strode forward and stopped just a step away from the bark of the mighty tree. It stood there for centuries before her, and would hopefully remain for centuries more. Reaching to touch the ancient hide of that living monument, she looked up, pondering on the minuscule nature of her existence. The branches far above shook and bobbed with the wind, releasing their bright-coloured leaves to fly in distant skies.
The air grew increasingly chilly with the passing of days, and it didn't take much to be able to tell that Yievest was fast approaching. All colours would change, and the world would become less inviting. She walked around to the other side of the tree and sat at its branches, staring off into the fogs of northern Evermore and the aether auroras above. Already, the auroras looked thin and pale as their season reached its end. The most glorious two months of the year, gone in a flash. Freya dreaded to think of it.
Something she dreaded far more was the thought of the journey she'd set down before her. The obstacles in sight would seem far less insurmountable if only she weren't wracked continuously with what felt like unending loneliness. She hated the thought that she'd begun to give even a sliver of herself away to the man whom she was forced to fight only weeks prior. The life of the recluse was one she was never willing to live, but was regardless forced to by the bonds of family and duty.
In more than one way, it'd been good for the growth of her soul. Learning to love oneself, nature and the essence of life was no easy task, and she'd accomplished these tasks at such a young age. This gave her an edge in the happenings of life, she felt, but the duality of it meant that she suffered in equal measure for the lack of company she was enforced. While others respected her and many more befriended her, she never felt a connection to any of them that she considered anything but fleeting or purely recreational. Indeed, what she craved was the concept of love. Love she never felt she received sufficiently from her parents or anyone else, for that matter.
She didn't have an exact answer for the doubts lingering in her mind at this point, and she used her new obligations and the resolve attached to them to push such thoughts away. It would do, for the time being. It had to.
Freya had become aware of a distinct feeling that she'd become increasingly more potent as she put distance between her and her hometown. In fact, ever since she woke after the battle at the city's gates, she'd felt more at ease. Even the bolts of pain running across her did nought to impede the newfound knowledge that much had changed. She knew not the reason for these things, but they only increased as she went further on. Sitting here in tranquillity, she let her mind slip. Raising her eyes to the sky, she admired the colours that shifted behind the clouds.
A few hours passed while she rested under the protection of that crimson wonder of nature. She felt refreshed and energized, and as the cover of night settled in, she pushed on. Soon, the landscape around her morphed from the sparse forests of the mainland's centre to shallow swamps with trees and shrubs whose leaves lay hovering above the water, held aloft by thin branches that reached down into the reflective surface of the water. Both flora and fauna here gave Freya a distinctively negative feeling as if all conspired for her imminent demise.
Hours passed with no threat making itself present, however, and Freya used her keen pathfinding skills and some magic to cross these maze-like paths in a shorter time than would be expected of an outsider. Or even some natives, in that regard. In a moment such as these, she told herself repeatedly that not having a companion such as she craved was a boon. She wouldn't be held back by someone else's lack of ability or stamina. She was all she needed. It gave her the strength to carry on.
Soon, she reached civilization. The elevated stone paths made way for a wooden bridge that reached from the outskirts of Madain Nym all the way to her core, as the entire city was built upon a broad foundation of fire-resilient Nymwood. While for some the city might seem like ramshackle conjunctions of poorly-built structures affected even further by the decay of time, Freya saw only what lay beneath the grime that seemed pervasive throughout most of the city. Here, once lay a glorious city that was now held back by denigrating policies enforced by their commanding authorities, the empire of Evermore. While the conquering of Madain Nym and it's independent province hadn't been a recent affair, Freya read much about what a great nation it had been before it came under evermorian rule.
Walking through the streets, she did her best to avert her gaze from the citizens who clearly lived in squalor. She was powerless to help them, even as the crown princess of Lindblum. While Evermore had been relatively attendant to their non-aggression pact, it didn't mean they were weaker. If anything, a war of any kind between their nations would probably result in mutual destruction. She continued on, following a trail of aether that was more akin to a hunch - a feeling, immeasurable and unexplained - than any real evidence. The track had grown rather cold, and she questioned herself at every corner turned.
Shortly after that, she reached the centre of town. Before her, two features stood out and she couldn't help but stare in wonder. The first, and most prominent, was an impossibly large structure made of rock. The rocks were large with very few cuts. The pyramid-like structure extended as far in the air as the castle of Lindblum, she wagered. Every inch of stone was carved with some intricate design. Massive trees grew around the structure as if leaning into it for support. The treetops covered the entire diametre of the palace. However, it seemed somewhat abandoned. Overgrowth had clearly set in, and no efforts were made to trim down even at what appeared to be the main entrance.
The second feature which drew her attention was the tip of a crystalline spire that reminded the one at Lindblum, however, instead of a blueish hue, this one was ochre. The peak of it was the only visible feature, as it was wholly sunken into the swamp. It must have been a rather deep hole, she imagined, especially if it was in any way comparable to the more familiar Spire of Enhancement. She read a book on Madain Nym once, but it never said anything about the spire being sunken. She stood there for a few moments, admiring these two landmarks with particular amazement.
Freya was neither prepared nor aware when an aggressive presence came from behind her. They hit the back of her knees with the front of theirs, and she fell kneeling to the ground, any reaction made impossible. Just as her defensive instincts kicked in, she felt and saw the shine of a crystalline dagger closing on her throat, and in one fell swoop, she was subjugated. She trembled as her captor finished the stranglehold by locking one of Freya's arms behind her back, painfully.
A weirdly familiar voice whispered from just behind the princess' ear. Too caught up in the panic of being held at such a vulnerable position, she never had the time to think on it. "Come here just to die, outsider? Too bad. We don't take visitors."
"Please--" answered Freya, her lungs grasping for the wind she'd lost after being defeated so quickly and handily. "- I'm just passing by. Forgive me. I didn't mean to trespass!"
Her captor giggled maniacally. The woman holding the girl hostage was shorter than her by quite a bit, and familiarity of her powerful voice and accent became slowly more apparent. "Have you grown even softer somehow, sister? I never thought I'd hear a daughter of the Bjørg bloodline beg for mercy."
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As the dark-skinned woman spoke, Freya rolled her eyes and tilted her head to look at her aggressor's weapon, paying close attention to the adornment at the end of the hilt of the dagger. It was a beautiful flower pattern chiselled out of the same crystal as the blade itself. Even before the woman finished her speech, Freya had already realized who she was and sighed with relief. "Orchidea. If I changed at all, then, by contrast, you'll always stay the same. That seems a fair trade."
Upon hearing her name spoken by her friend's tongue, the woman let the princess go, giving her a swift peck on the cheek before backing off to allow her to rise, which she did after running her hand across her neck to check for any cuts.
"Must you always treat me with such callousness, sister? A hug would have sufficed." said Freya, sounding formal at first as a tactic to further scold her childhood friend. When she turned around to face her friend, however, she couldn't help her body's reaction to open a smile. Her cheeks grew red, as well, as the woman's sharp face features and plump, beautiful body called her eyes' attention. She was surprised. Before today, she was never able to notice just how utterly charming a woman Orchidea was. Even the old burns that ran across her exposed belly did nothing to detract from her beauty. If anything, they added to that characteristic with a flair of uniqueness and bold confidence.
This was a very uncommon sight for Freya, however. Her friends' outwardly appearance betrayed her bookish and shy nature, ever having been one to hide behind multiple layers of cloth and fur to hide her looks. Here, today, she seemed more confident in herself than ever before. It made her glow in a certain way, standing in stark contrast to the dreary atmosphere of the rest of the city. The bloomed flower stowed her dagger away at her hip before striking a confident pose, waiting for her friends' reaction.
Freya, never being one to shy away from physical contact, nodded sideways in disapproval as she approached her old friend for a warm hug. They both giggled softly, basking in the warmth of such welcome embrace. After finally breaking away, they talked about the many relatively irrelevant subjects a couple of friends who hadn't seen each other in a while would.
Eventually, the subject of the conversation became the submerged crystal spire that stood before them. Orchidea explained: "A few weeks ago, it sunk into the swamp without any explanation. We don't even know how it's possible. The master was supposedly inside when it happened, and nobody's heard from them since. It's got everyone worried. The tower was our only remaining leverage against Evermore, so the Morn is concerned, understandably."
Freya pondered the political ramifications of this. Although the state itself had been incorporated into the empire long ago, it still held a small measure of independence due to the presence of the grand magus who protected the tower. With the tower gone, what little sovereignty Madain Nym retained was very much in question.
She could feel a trace of familiar magic emanating from the tower and felt compelled to find a solution to this riddle. Maybe together, they'd be able to solve this problem, she pondered. "Maybe we can lift it from the swamp somehow?" she asked while staring at the top of the spire.
"It's gargantuan. I doubt even the grand magus himself would be able to accomplish something like that, honey." Orchidea was right. But to the young princess, there was nothing wrong that couldn't be fixed with the right amount of effort and ingenuity.
"Do you think the Morn would talk to me?"
Orchidea shrugged. "He might. He might not. Things have been weird around here lately. Can't hurt to try, right?"
Freya nodded and begged her friend to lead the way towards the palace, more out of courtesy and familiarity than anything else. The steps that lead up and inside the great pyramid seemed even more untidy up close. It didn't strike her as something correct, and she covertly used a few simple cantrips to clean the path behind them of dirt and weeds. She didn't want to seem disrespectful, so she made sure she did it while her friend wasn't looking - or anyone else, for that matter.
Inside the palace, a few scattered servants littered the halls, each taking care of simple chores. Why they kept the inside in such good condition but neglected the outside was a mystery to her. In her home, the outside appearance of a king's abode was as important as the inside. They made their way to a common room where the Morn and his adjutants lay around most of the day, enjoying the small pleasures of life. The sight of it made Freya cringe lightly, feeling sick at the thought of such opulence being experienced at the palace while most of the common folk lived in squalor. Even in Lindblum, the lowest caste of the populace were hardworking people who enjoyed no small measure of success and pleasurable moments. Here, the disparity seemed too large.
The woman leading the way bowed before the Morn, an arm and clenched fist held horizontally in front of her belly as a symbol of reverence. "My Morn. The princess of Lindblum is here, and requests and audience, at your pleasure."
Most of the lords sitting around in their obscenely large chairs, which seemed to be almost too crowded with pillows such as to provide maximum comfort never even bothered to cast the two women a glance. This ticked Freya off more than a little bit, but at least the Morn himself gave them proper attention. 'Princess of Lindblum' wasn't a title to be taken lightly, he thought, and he even lifted his enormous body from the chair he sat on to welcome her into his court, arms spread wide. "Welcome to Madain Nym, young lady. Or what's left of it. How can our court be of service to you, hmm?"
Freya repeated her friend's bowing motion, a solemn expression on her face. "I'm more interested in how I can be of service to you, my lord. I'm wondering if there's aught I could do to aid in the problem regarding the tower of force? As you most likely know, my mother is the grandmaster of the tower of enhancement." She didn't flaunt her status lightly. It was all in service of a legitimate purpose, she thought and hoped they would take her seriously.
The Morn seemed to be the only one willing to take her seriously, however. Even when she spoke, the court's lords didn't deem her words important enough not to be talked over in their revel. If not for the lifted hand of the higher authority in the room, they would have continued their endless banter without a care in the world. The room fell silent, and the kingly figure spoke with a gentle voice. "I'm humbled that you'd be willing to grant us such aid, dear. However, with grandmaster Bao-Dur's disappearance, I'm afraid we have no means of raising the tower that we've been able to divine. The entire situation is a mystery even to my court wizards. It's as if the tower itself has retreated into dormancy, unpowered. Nobody has been able to attune with it since."
Freya turned her gaze to her friend, who gave her a 'I don't know what else to tell you' shrug. The first thought that ran through the young princess' mind was that the tower's withdrawal might have been a result of the grandmaster's demise. It was impossible to tell if he was alive or not, so this was mere speculation on her part. Never before had there been an event in which a grandmaster passed away without naming a successor, that she was aware of. This was a theory she had no means of confirming, however. Perhaps a communion with the tower was in order, she thought.
She bowed before the Morn again, excusing herself. "I will do my best to investigate the matter, great Morn. I hope in my heart of hearts you'll allow me that much."
"How can I not, faced with such a polite and delightful young woman? Have at it, dear. Don't hesitate to ask for help around here, should you require any." The man seemed legitimately jolly, holding both hands at his large hips. He stood upright for as long as the two women still stood in his hall, only making himself comfortable at his chair again after they were gone. The lords all cranked their necks to stare at the Morn with blank expressions, and the man seemed to shrink in his throne-like chair. They appeared now almost like automata, remaining silent and still. They'd been like this since the man demanded their silence, an eerie detail Freya had failed to notice.
The two young women swiftly made their way outside, and Freya made her way to stand as close to the tower as possible. A small wooden bridge stood where the entrance should have been, and she sat in front of it with legs crossed. She had no time to waste, so the thought of getting any rest or nourishment hadn't even crossed her mind. Orchidea stood beside her, pondering what her friend was up to.
What Freya was attempting had been done by other magic users in the court and even Orchidea herself numerous times since the tower's submergence. She endeavoured to commune with the tower, a tactic commonly employed by those who seek to attain the knowledge provided by attunement with the aspect of the magic the crystalline spire embodied. Typically, one such effort would be met with some sort of feedback from the energies that composed the tower. The effect differed from user to user, but all successful trials were met in the end with a heightened affinity in the particular aspect of magic. Freya, herself, had experienced this as a child by accident. Her body's excellent physical shape was partly a result of this early attunement.
Eyes closed, Freya used what she recognized as her astral body to reach out and touch the outside of the spire. It was more a feeling than knowledge or palpable quality, but even as she approached, she could feel the thin hairs of her body stand upright, a favourable outcome she wouldn't have anticipated. Something called out to her, and she followed that feeling - that voice - to the origin. She began to feel as if her own body was sinking into the swamp. Upon the brief realization of what the call was, she snapped out of her concentration and quickly stood upright. This caused her friend to jump to the side as an equally frightened reaction. Freya held her chest, panting. "Is he responsible...?" She whispered to herself.
"Who is responsible, sister?"
"The worst monster you've never met. If he's involved, which I suspect he is, then there has to be something we can do about this."
"You've managed to commune with the tower, then? Nobody has caught on to this... Presence you're referring to. All I got was static. Like a droning noise. I can't pierce through."
"I felt something, aye. I feel as if there's more to this sinking than we initially considered. He said... Something about... Thralls?" She pondered the meaning of the word. Before long, she caught herself questioning even the validity of those whispers she heard. Wasn't it most likely that he was just attempting to lead her astray?
"Thralls? That sounds ominous, sister. And a bit too familiar."
Freya craned her neck downwards to look at her friend, a puzzled expression on her face. "Familiar how?"