It was getting to be the end of summer; time to send messengers to the other tribes in order to make arrangements for those without mates to meet and socialize. Fomor Demon Priest Rhathol stroked his beard as he wondered what sort of meeting gift should be arranged.
Ah, come to think of it, there hasn't been any word from the edge villages lately, has there? Those guys to the west might still be busy occupying the Orcs’ territory. Better send a nice gift so they share some of the spoils.
Rhathol licked his lips thinking about the abundant plant life in the western forest. He arranged for a few messengers to go out with some well-made textiles and sat down in his hut to grind some plant roots into powder.
Hehe. This has been a good year. Lots of root crops matured, and those pesky Wenteils have been thinned out. On top of that, Baythes showed us his blessing.
Nearly all of the priest-chiefs in the western villages became Small Baphomets this year. A few of them took this opportunity to move to the prosperous center villages, but most decided to lead troops into the Orcs’ land. After being poked and prodded by those annoying pigs so many times, it was only natural to want to show them a good what for. And if they could gain some of that fertile west forest land, all the better.
Rhathol chuckled and collected the root dust into a bowl, where he mixed it with some plant sap until it became thick and sticky like jelly. That concoction was scooped into a small and crude clay bottle, where the Demon Priest cast
The root he had used for this small bottle wasn't the same kind that was used in their food. It was the root of a plant-type Magic Beast called Eirid Root. Eirid Rood was an exceptionally lazy Magic Beast, that spread out long and thin roots as far as it could to absorb Magic Power and sunlight over a wide area. Unless its core was directly attacked, it wouldn't even move. However, those roots had to contain the Magic Power they absorbed for a long time as it slowly moved toward the center. If certain spells were cast on mixtures made of those roots, they would remain as pseudo-healing potions for a few weeks.
Offensive spells would destroy the mixture before being stored in it, so it wasn't advised to use them.
This strange technique, where one would be hard pressed whether to call it primitive enchanting or primitive alchemy, was what the Fomor Demon Priests practiced as a higher pursuit.
After producing a few more bottles of “healing potions,” Rhathol gave them to the messengers heading west to use as gifts. The battle should have been hard-fought, so these would surely be welcome. The next thing to do was to bless the relationship of a newly-formed couple and then wait for the messengers to return
Two days passed peacefully in this way.
Then, although it was the dead of night, Rhathol’s old bones stirred when he heard voices outside his tent. He cast a Basic
Rhathol frowned and took a look at those gathered. They were simple men and women who lived in the village, but their facial muscles were uncharacteristically tense. Huddled together in the center of the group were the three messengers Rhathol had sent out two days ago.
The old priest-chief closed his eyes and lowered his chin. “Were the western forces defeated?”
The messenger standing closest to the front swallowed and glanced at his two comrades. “We don't know, elder,” he shook his head with wide eyes.
“Hm?” Rhathol peeked one eye open and raised his head high. “What do you mean? Weren't you able to visit the western edge villages?”
“We did but,” the messenger shook his shaggy gray head, “there was nobody there.”
“What did you say?!”
Nobody in the villages? That was impossible. Even if the highest number of troops were gathered for battle, it would still only be half of each village’s total numbers. Even if the expedition had succeeded and they had sent some people to start occupying the western forest, some would still stay behind to maintain the homes that had already been built. Whether they won or lost this year’s war, there was no reason for the villages to be empty.
Rhathol clutched his staff tightly and pointed it toward his cone-shaped hut. “Come inside and explain to me what you saw.”
The messengers nodded and entered, while the ordinary villagers waited around outside to hear what the priest-chief would say afterwards.
Inside the priest-chief’s hut, Rhathol and the three messengers sat cross legged on opposite sides of a very short wooden table. No refreshments were offered, only tension.
“Now, tell me what you saw.” Rhathol rested his staff against the wall and placed his hands on his legs.
“There were no bodies,” a female messenger started. “I saw some blood. And the ground had holes in it, like from large weapons.”
“The houses were emptied,” a male to her right picked up. “All the cloth, food, tools, and weapons were gone, and there were lots of different tracks.”
“What kind of tracks?” Rhathol interrupted.
“Some hooves; like ours, but smaller. Some like descendant's feet. Some like snake trails, but much too straight.”
“Did you see anything else?”
“Sometimes there were scorch marks, or other signs of spells being cast. I think that’s all.”
The priest chief sighed and held his head. Hoof prints and human-like prints together; there was a long-time enemy of theirs which often left those kind of tracks.
Orcs… and War Orcs. The expedition failed and they penetrated that far while retaliating.
The reason there were no bodies or food left behind was obviously for those fat bastards to fill their bellies. The other goods being missing wasn't strange either. Even Orcs could think properly when they weren't hungry, so they would eventually be able to make use of those things. The real question was how they had beaten an expedition force led by five Small Baphomets.
It’s possible they split their forces to some extent, but even that shouldn't have made much difference.
Some separate power must have meddled with things. Perhaps outsiders came into the forest and fought against both sides. Or maybe the Orcs called for help from allies in the west forest. Far away tribes could have come to help them… no. There was no way other tribes would have been able to arrive quickly enough after the War Orcs became desperate enough to call for them.
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Another possibility was… Rhathol felt himself give a dry and bitter laugh.
It couldn't be. It never appeared after all this time, and when we finally made the first move...
Those strange snake like tracks the messengers mentioned could be something like the carriages descendants used. Regardless, since they stood out, it would be possible to use them.
The old priest-chief took a leather sack that was leaned up against the wall and dumped the contents onto the short table. A fine powdered substance, root powder, piled up. He smoothed out the powder and drew several circles in it at certain places.
“The side closest to me is north, and this circle represents the rising moon village. Which way did the snake-like tracks go from here?”
The testimonies of all three messengers were gathered and a certain truth became apparent.
“Whatever enemies are attacking our villages visit--at most--two places in a trip before going back that way.”
Indeed, most of the strange tracks lead not to another village, but to a mystery location towards the west. Which meant…
“And they likely aren't finished attacking us yet.”
Rhathol picked up his staff and recast the Basic attribute
“One of you will investigate this location. The other two, and an additional three, will go out to tell the other center villages about this and request a meeting to unify our defenses. You’ll leave at sunrise, so quickly get some sleep.”
The old Fomor stood up and patted each of the three messengers on their shoulders, then stepped outside to alert the villagers.
***
Impossible, Claudia’s arms hung limply, and her eyes stared dully at the middle-class woman before her, who kept crying out apologies in a voice torn by sobs.
Impossible. Impossible.
Not even an hour ago, she had barged into the Adventurer Guild in high spirits and used her family name to meet with the Guild master. She had bribed, seduced, and threatened him into letting her look through the registered members list until she found her brother’s barely-disguised name.
She had tracked down the room he had usually rented at an inn, but he wasn't there. However, tracking down his registered teammates had been easy. Infiltrating the Alchemist Guild would have been a bit too flashy, but the other two members lived in the city. The Ranger Nostel’s apartment had been empty, but the Mage Elianora was sitting comfy in her family house.
After this, the hard part should have been over. It should have been easy to get in contact with Rudan through this woman, but she just kept crying and apologizing and saying downright crazy things.
“Oy, come on now. My brother is dead? What are you talking about? It’s not even a good joke.”
The Mage ran the heels of her hands over her eyes to wipe the constantly-flowing tears, and she shook her head. “It’s true! I'm so sorry, but it’s true! A Demonic Beast ripped his leg off, and he bled out before I could do anything! A friend who happened to be hunting nearby helped me escape, but it was already too late for him!”
A wall of white seemed to be clouding Claudia’s thoughts. Before she knew it, she was holding Elianora up by the neck of her robe.
“You had better stop fucking with me you Hob-cob sucker! You let my brother run off into the woods and die?! Are you serious?!”
Seeing that the Mage’s face was starting to change color, Claudia tossed her to the floor, where she looked up with tear-filled eyes.
“And why in Helvetia’s name am I only hearing about this now?! Were you covering it up to protect yourself?!”
The girl shook her head and knelt down so her long brown hair fell in her face.
“I couldn't come to tell you! Rudan never told us who his family was or where they lived!”
“Fuck a troll you stupid bitch! I’ve been in this city for one day and I tracked you down! Fuck! Shit!” Claudia tore at her chin-length white-blonde hair and paced in a circle. “I came all this way, I even talked mother out of sending him back to that worthless academy. I trained so hard so I could beat that stupid, hotheaded, kind, adorable, irreplaceable little fuck back to his senses! Why? Why?! Rudan you idiot!!”
With a final wail, Claudia collapsed onto her knees and cried. She cried so much that the old wood of Elianora’s family house started to swell up as it absorbed the water. For her part, even though it was largely her fault that things had turned out this way, Elly wrapped her arms around the young Knight in a hug. Claudia didn't fight back, either, because she needed another human’s touch more than anything at that moment.
The Mage’s breath tickled her ear over and over, “I'm sorry… I'm sorry…” and Claudia just continued to wail her heart out.
Neither of the girls had any idea how much time had passed after that, but the sun had already set outside. Unnoticed by Claudia, Olive had already returned home and been quietly sent up to her room by her sister. When the Knight had cried as much as she was able to, Elly set her up at the kitchen table with a warm wool blanket, and started cooking dinner. She called Olive down for a bowl before sending her back to her room to eat it. Two untouched bowls were also placed between the two older women, and they sipped on cups of tea to calm down. Or in Claudia’s case, she just held her tea cup and let its warmth penetrate her cold hands.
“I'm really sorry,” Elly said once again. “I can come to your home and apologize to the rest of your family. It’s fine if I'm punished for being so incompetent. But, if possible, I would be grateful if I could still be able to take care of my little sister until she’s older.”
Claudia shook her head. After so much water had leaked out, her eyes felt unbearably dry.
“You don't,” she paused uncomfortably, “deserve to be punished. That kind of thing... happens… to Adventurers.”
Elianora took a sip of her tea and tried to start a conversation going.
“So I understand that you didn't get to see Rudan much these past couple of years. Were you close before that?”
Claudia nodded and held her teacup close so the steam reached her face. “He was the only one younger than me, so we played together a lot. We did each other’s hair and wore mother’s face powder and rouge, and we would dress each other up and practice sword fighting in gowns so long we couldn't take a step without tripping. We would play pranks on Anise, and she would hide behind Marylin, so we would hide behind our eldest sister Silvia, who would just push us back out and tell us to play nice. Well, it was just for fun, so mother almost never had to scold us.”
“I heard it from Rudan too, but it’s still hard to picture him with long hair and a dress on,” Elly smiled. On the other hand, Claudia’s faint smile sunk back beneath the surface.
“Those nobles who scared my precious brother away are too afraid of something that happened over a century ago. They’re terrified of accidentally pushing one kind of person to act like another kind of person, so they made a bunch of rules about which kinds of people do what kinds of things. The six generations of my family helped to push that a little bit. Because it’s more practical, women can wear pants instead of skirts. But I wonder why boys aren't supposed to wear dresses even if they want to feel more beautiful? It isn't like the kind of clothes you like to wear are displayed on your status. To those people, it looked like Rudan was breaking the rules. Nope. It looked like we, a bunch of girls packed together in a house, who didn't know how to raise a boy, were forcing him to break the rules. I just,” Claudia let out a long sigh. “I'm so sick of bored nobles poking their noses into other people's private matters.”
She finally took a sip of tea, and a little color seemed to be coming back to her face. “And now: My eldest sister is getting married; my second eldest is being primed to take over the position of head of the family; Anise is a clumsy idiot, and the both of us are trying to finish our education; and my only brother is dead. It feels like everyone is growing away from each other, but I don't want to let go yet.”
Claudia took another sip of tea and forced a bitter smile. “What about you? Is there anyone else in your family besides your little sister?”
Elianora smiled with squinted eyes. She was currently still enduring life without her glasses, which had been lost in the forest a few days ago. “My father was a shoemaker. My mother was a candidate for royal court Mage, but she caught magic poisoning,” the girl trailed off, and Claudia was ready to nod… when she kept going.
“While she was bedridden and couldn't cast spells, a serial murderer broke into our house and killed her. You know: the one they never caught. After that, my father ran away to try and track him down, so I don't know what happened to him. It’s just me and Olive for now,” she shrugged and smiled, “and Patch.”
“Patch?” Claudia parroted, still astonished that that killer had come up so suddenly.
“He also lost someone precious to that person. We were able to bond over it.”
“I see,” Claudia muttered absently and played with her soup spoon. “How,” she bit her lip, “how do you deal with the loss?”
“... I won't tell you that it ever stops hurting,” Elly answered, “just that life keeps happening around you. Other feelings will pile up on top of the pain, until you don't think about it anymore. You’ll still feel sad when you remember how it first made you feel, and when you think about all the things you won't be able to do with that person, but everything else will be surprisingly normal after a little while. Just make sure you don't isolate yourself and brood about it. Build up as many new memories as you can with the people you still have, and it’s easy to be happy again. So easy that it’s ridiculous…”
Elly reached down and scooped a bite of her soup, but Claudia didn't miss the last drop that mixed with the broth. She took a shaky breath of her own and lifted her spoon.