Elia stared up at the broken dome that sat on Crossroad Temple like a hat. “Here we are, home away from home.”
“Finally!” one of her new protegees yelled.
The panting gaggle of newbies poured in behind her, legs shaking as if they’d skipped a thousand leg-days. She had hoped to lose them on the way up, as there was no even road to the temple and they did not seem to have even one uncommon greater soul between them. But they had persisted and a shared look with Karla proved that she was proud of them just for that much.
They shouldn’t be THAT exhausted. Kids these days are soft. Back in my days…
“And you’re sure that you want to train them?” she asked. “That’s a big investment.”
“They need it. Admit it, you would have wanted some help if you were in their shoes. And by doing this, I’ll show you how much I’ve learned, too.”
There was no talking back to her now, not when she had her claws sunk this deep already.
“I’ll help and soften them up for you,” Elia whispered, then turned to the others. “Alrrright,” she barked, grasping their attention. “A few rules to start: Listen to what I say, don’t wander around alone, and don’t go out into the maze. Failing to comply likely means you’re gonna die. Now, introductions: name, boon and favorite weapon. You first, girl.”
“Hannah,” said the mage girl as she wiped long black hair out of her raisin-face. It was vaguely asian, but out of all the newbies she looked the least undead. “I don’t have a boon. I prefer staves and wands, anything that lets me cas– conjure, I mean, that lets me conjure.”
She did look the part of a mage at least, adorned with nothing but flowy robes that were soaked in swamp. They must have really been weighing her down, and a quick touch confirmed that she was not wearing them for their magical benefits.
Tartazon Scholar Robes
A set of robes worn by the scholars banished to the realm of Tartazon. There are many secrets woven into the tapestry of time, and mortals who dared ask what only Uovis may be privy to often find themselves in the furthest depths of the prison city.
“You do know mages can wear armor, right?”
The girl nodded. “That’s why I have a chainmail shirt beneath it. See, here.”
She pulled her robes aside, revealing old, large-linked chainmail, gashes hurriedly covered with leather patches. Elia gave her a doubtful, but not disapproving look. “Get better chainmail asap. After that, a backup weapon, a long dagger or shortsword.”
“I can shoot stuff better if I’m not in melee though,” the girl said. And yet she had been close enough for Elia to reach her in two hops. She eyed the staff stuck in Elia’s backpack. “Can I have my staff back?”
“No. You’re a shit mage if you don’t know how to mitigate miscasts. Sixty pushups for you. Next, you there.”
The archer looked up, long hands resting on his knees. He was the lanky type, and taller than others. His fiery hair was dusty and growing sparse in light of being an undead. “Nathan. My boon can infuse an arrow with different colors, each corresponding to a different effect. I like bows. ”
“The archer likes bows, surprise surprise. Are you careful or just a coward? And just ‘bows’ doesn’t cut it, be more specific next time. Fifty push-ups, STAT!” Her roar shook him to action. He set right to the exercise, face more contemplative and focused than angry. He had a cool head, that one. “Next, edgy-rogue.”
The rogue hissed at her. One of her companions – the armored one – rolled his eyes and tugged her hood down to reveal a furred, sharp white face filled with serrated teeth. Those would have been the marks of a grave predator, except for one key detail.
Her eyes were bulging orbs that would have looked silly on a goldfish. Elia tried not to laugh.
“This is Otis. She’s a possum-girl, she likes knives, and she has a weird after-image boon. Can we get to my turn now?”
Elia blinked. “Fifty pushups for the opossum-bekki. Daggers are a solid choice if you’ve got the boons and stats to support them. If not, the lack of range will make you suffer. Try other weapons before you’re really sure you want to commit. And now to you, mister slappycheeks.”
Otis’ eyes crinkled in silent laughter as she flopped down to get pumping. The armored man did not look amused. He raised his chin as he stepped towards Elia, standing a full head taller than her. His stare would have been more intimidating if he looked any older than seventeen, and his nose was a bit knobbly. He was honestly trying to make her feel intimidated.
“I’m Erik. The others think you’re some kind of martial guru, but I don’t buy that crap. You’ve just got high-level stats and good boons. In fact, if you think a little bit of exercise can help undead bodies grow, then I don’t think you can teach us much at all.”
Elia grinned. He was so confident even after being smacked around. This one would be fun to teach. “Good thing you don’t speak for them then, mister ex-leader. One-hundred pushups.”
“And if I refuse?”
Elia’s grin widened. “Brod? Explain to him in gentle, physical terms how the giants of Morgenthal get over their fear of heights.”
The giant grabbed Erik by a leg and went outside, where he hung him over the edge of the world for a while. The screams of indignity turned to anger and then fear, then back to anger and frustration. His friends all trailed looks to where he was begging for his life.
“Your brother totally deserved that,” Nathan said.
“He is an idiot,” Hannah responded, then between pushups stared at Elia with a hint of defiance. “If the giant drops him, I will kill you.”
Elia cackled manically. “Silence! Back to your push-ups, you dregs!”
This really was starting to get fun. Maybe she should do this to everyone who tried to kill her.
Karla shook her head with a grin. “So not evil.”
“What, me?” Elia asked innocently. “Never.”
The moment they had finished their pushups, Elia sent them to do laps around the temple. When Brod carried a green-faced and markedly pacified Erik back inside, she watched him fail through his hundred pushups in full armor, then sent him out to join the rest.
“Thanks Brod. Think he learned his lesson?”
The giant just shrugged. He wasn’t much for words. With the newbies pacified, he went to work, gutting his catch before building a small fireplace. Elia stretched herself like a cat.
“Look at you,” Karla said with a smug smile. “It’s like you were born to do this.”
“Me? Pshhh, I couldn’t teach a cat to catch rats.”
“You’ll see.” She took out one of her many note-books. “I’ve already made a curriculum. See, here’s the crash-course in survival, and that’s where we teach them about the world we live in, neatly bound in together with legend and mythology. And this is arts and crafts.”
“Arts and crafts?” Elia asked.
“I thought that instead of just surviving, maybe we should teach them how to live a little. Not everyone can be a workaholic like you. But the thing is, I would like to delegate some of the work to people more qualified than me.” She looked up at Elia with big hazel eyes.
“I don’t think I’d be a good teacher. I just do what I do best.”
“I don’t need you to do any more than that!” With a bright smile, Elia grasped her hands. “Could I perhaps convince you to use those skills for the betterment of all?”
“...maybe. You’ll have to do a lot of convincing though.”
“I can do that.” Karla purred as she pulled her closer. “Convinced yet?”
Elia mumbled something approximating a ‘yes’.
At her blush, Karla laughed and shook her back and forth. “Thank you, thank you! This is going to be so fun! And don’t worry, they’ll grow on you. Now as for your workload, I thought that maybe you could cover the phys-ed…”
***
“What, don’t tell me that was all you guys can do?” Elia twirled her broken shortsword as she walked between the panting party splayed out in various compromising positions on the floor. Karla was right. This was fun.
“Why the nuts? Why always the nuts?” Erik groaned.
“Lesson number twenty-two!” she barked. “If you can’t play dead, then don’t stay down! Look, take an example from Otis.”
Elia nudged the limp body of the opossum-bekki with her boot.
“... I think she’s actually dead,” Nathan grunted.
“Naw, watch.” She placed the boot, still soaked with stinky swamp muck, right under her nose. Her whiskers wiggled instinctively, but she did not recoil. “See? If this were the real deal, I’d have stabbed you both, and then Otis could have stabbed me in the back while I was not paying attention. Of course, since she can’t actually hurt me, the better choice would have been to run away.”
“We get it, you’re better than us,” Nathan said as he helped Hannah back up again.
“If that’s all you’ve figured out, it looks like you haven’t learned yet.”
“Can we get one single sip of water?” Hannah asked. “We didn’t get one after the run; we’ve been going at it for hours. Expecting us to hold up like this is unreasonable.”
“You’re right, I am giving you unreasonable odds. But will you complain as well when you get jumped by a dozen dregs during a march? When you’re tired is when you will notice the small mistakes that turn into big fuck-ups. For the next lesson, try fighting each other, and no fair duels. Try two on one, at a minimum. When I come back from my shower, I want to see a bunch of half-dead undead.”
With that, Elia went in to join Karla in her bath, cackling to herself at the collective groans. She stayed in the door frame for a while, noting with some pride how all of them got up again in spite of her constant taunts. They were new, but they had already learned the primary lesson of being an undead: A fight was only over when your determination was ground to nothing.
Determination was in good supply, but it was all they had. Their skills were rough, they barely knew how to swing a sword. Nathan kept on hurting himself with his bow and Erik was the spitting image of a flailing fool in plate armor.
Five or six weeks ago, that’s probably when they got here. Not an easy few weeks for them either. But I had it way harder. Maybe I need to push them a bit more.
The trickling sound of water reached her ears as she descended to where the small spring slowly cascaded down a concentric ring of bowls. Crossroad temple didn’t have many amenities, but it would do for a quick rinse. Elia waited for Karla to complete her routine before starting hers. Seeing a princess in the nude was one of the many things the law of princesses declared inacceptable, and being girlfriends changed none of that.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
They passed each other back-to-back, and Elia began the laborious process of cleaning bog out of her hair in broad strokes. No matter how much she scrubbed, the smell never seemed to disappear. Karla would so not want to cuddle after this.
“So, what now?” Karla asked from the next room over.
Elia leaned her back against the icy wall and sighed.
“Now, we head back to the pact, get an actual bath, then buy ourselves something nice with the souls we got, maybe scrounge up some of Rye’s offerings since she rarely eats all her stuff. Then–”
“No, I meant, what do you plan to do with those four students?” Karla said. Elia could imagine her hugging her knees up to her chin. “I’m… not sure I know how to be a good teacher. Erik often outright refuses to participate, and whenever Hannah opens her mouth to correct or doubt me, it fills me with anxiety. What if we fail them? ”
“Then we try again. But that’s not the main issue, is it?”
“No. It’s because… I guilted you into accepting them and I’m sorry our date turned into wrangling a bunch of newbie undead.” She sighed. There was only this flimsy wall separating them. They were so close, but so far away. “I just… helping people is just so much more fulfilling than killing monsters.”
“It’s fine.” Elia scowled at all the leaves stuck in her brush. “You’d think there wouldn’t be too many of those left.”
“Monsters?”
“Newbies. I can accept demons digging themselves out of the ground, falling from the sky, or whatever, but anybody who’s as green as they are shouldn’t have survived a very long time out here.”
“Maybe it’s that season again. You know, when outsiders are sucked into this world. It happened more frequently in the past, once every couple months. Now, we haven’t seen an outsider event in fifteen years.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Maybe.”
They shared in a couple minutes of silence, only interrupted by the constant trickle of water.
“Elia, what happened in the maze? You never tell me about it.”
“That came out of nowhere.” She thought, then decided on an answer. “I never saw the need.”
“You told Rye.”
“I… look, we shared a head, but you and I share a bed, so circumstances differ. Secondly, there’s no reason to go back there, bar us finding the one thing we set out to find in the swamp today. Thirdly, to answer your question in two words: Bad memories.”
“How bad?”
Elia sighed. Nobody really understood what it meant to her when she talked about the maze. The place was a prison, but also filled out so much of her entire life.
“Imagine two recurring nightmares, and when you wake up, you just go from one into the other. No respite, no joy, and just the faintest sliver of self-awareness and grit to pull you through. When I was finally free, both nightmares kept on playing while I was asleep. You have no idea how thankful I am that Rye decided to banish all nightmares to who knows where.” She paused. “I should get her a present. You think she would like a new staff?”
“Another one? Elia, she has, like, twenty, and she only started that collection because she didn’t want to say no everytime you came back, proud of all the loot you found.” Elia froze and Karla giggled. “But thank you. For sharing, and for the date.”
Elia accepted a warm towel from the temple’s attendant. As a servant, she could walk in and out of baths even with a princess inside, which just went to show how the rules were a load of bullshit.
“Say, miss attendant, didn’t you say you had some business in Loften? Leading a flock of people there or something?”
The attendant stopped in the door frame. “That was my purpose once, yes. But my flock was gone long before you arrived. They followed the banners of the Rhuna – the one before the late one – and went into Loften. I myself was neither undead, nor did I have a purpose that would allow me to enter the city of the gods, and so was to be executed for treason simply for setting foot on such hallowed ground. I struck a bargain with the powers that be. Now, I am allowed the role of a host for weary travelers at the gates of the city, yet without the eyes to ever bathe in its radiance.”
Elia chewed on that revelation for a while. Eventually, she decided she had soaked long enough and got up.
“Hey, if you ever want to visit the city for yourself, just ask. I can ferry you there anytime.”
The attendant bowed. “You are most kind. But I am bound, and no power save that of the grail may set me free.”
Elia scrunched her nose. The worst part was that the attendant was right. If she had sworn an oath or gone under a similarly binding ritual, then there was no way to do anything about it. She could always complain to management, but the gods were even less inclined to listen to her now that she had a bounty on her head.
She threw her clothes on, then out of curiosity checked how high it was.
Bounty for Elia, the Unbidden: 167,000 Souls
It went up again.
“What are you smiling about?” Karla asked as they separated from a hug.
Elia blinked her smile away. “Oh, nothing.”
This was a sign that she was getting on somebody’s nerves. All the better then; since she had suffered through so much of their bullshit, that they were now forced to suffer through some of hers.
“Hey, I’ve had enough of running around for today, and the noobs look like they did too. You think we can have them follow us into the pact without kicking up too much of a fuss?”
“I mean, maybe… with your bluster and my reputation… and if Rye were there too it wouldn’t hurt. Randy is going to be annoyed either way.”
“Yeah. The spymaster hates me.” Elia sighed. “Not that I can blame him when I turned his son into a bird.”
“That was–“
“Not my fault, yes, but that’s how he sees it. Anyhow, that’s a maybe?” Karla nodded. “Alright, then that is a yes. Maybe once we’re there I can foist teaching conjuration off on Rye.”
Elia noted that Karla was grinning again.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Come on, you’re hiding something.”
“Not telling.” Elia tackled her, then began tickling her all over. The princess-rules said nothing against tickling after all.
“Tell me,” she asked, a flush and panting Karla. “Please?”
Karla looked her in the eyes, as serious as she could be given the situation. “You just look so lovely when you’re serious.”
***
Elia let out a long suffering sigh as she came back to the party arguing about proper rules of engagement. Her whole lesson had been that in a real fight, there are no rules. They were supposed to think outside of the box, not build a bigger one around themselves.
It didn’t help that this all seemed to have started with someone getting a serious but non lethal wound.
If someone loses an eye, that’s not a problem, that’s a learning experience.
“Ugh, you’re right, this isn’t a one person job. I can already feel myself getting annoyed.”
Karla hugged her arm closer. “They’re new, don’t hold their inexperience against them. But if it annoys you, maybe don’t think of them as people, but as little kittens lost on a sidewalk.”
“Little kittens?” Elia imagined Hannah as a moody tabby and Erik as a fat, grumpy orange cat. “I can do that.”
They left the temple and met the assembled party at their improvised training grounds outside. Their frustration was quickly pointed towards them instead and the moment Elia opened her mouth she knew that she deserved a D in de-escalation.
“Alright kitten squad, mount up, we’re leaving.”
“Kitten squad?” Erik asked, mildly affronted.
“You’re the kitten squad now, because your claws haven’t grown out yet.” Elia nodded wisely. “Except for Otis, but the claws are more of a metaphor anyway.”
“Allegory.” Hannah gave Elia a snooty stare.
Elia rolled her eyes. “Sure thing miss English major. But yes, we are going.”
The party looked at each other, until the archer spoke up. “Going where?”
So, Nathan is their temporary leader then? I can work with that.
“To civilization. How long has it been since you’ve slept in a real bed? How long since you’ve eaten real food?” Raw desire was written all over their faces. From that moment on, Elia knew she had them. “We’re all of one mind? Then let’s go!”
They checked on Brod, who had elected to stay put as he had built a large enough fire to roast his entire fish on a spear shaft and someone needed to watch it for the next couple hours. After refreshing themselves at the large bowl of respite inside the temple, the seven of them left through the portal inside it. They weren’t taking them to the main bowl, that was a security risk even Elia took care not to ignore. Instead, they went to one of the many bowls in the next district over. The path to the pact was one they’d have to make on foot, but they should arrive before the newbies could start any trouble with the patrolling dregs.
Elia took great pleasure in watching all of them emerge one after the other, eyes as large as saucers. They probably didn’t know bowls could be used for transportation either.
I didn’t know that either until I left the maze. Huh. Guess Karla was right that they need a crash course in undead-ology.
“How do I do that?” Hannah asked.
“Use a feather. Or convince a god with good arguments.” Elia showed her hand with the tattoo.
The girl swallowed. “I-is that how you got such a high bounty?”
Elia grinned. “Why, you some sort of god-lover?”
“Our parents were very Christian,” the girl said, looking around. “Why, should I be worried about other gods?”
Elia inhaled sharply.
They know nothing.
“How many times have you died so far?”
“Two,” the girl said. “Erik has the most of us with five. We know something happens when you die too much, but we don’t know what.”
She’s quick on the uptake. She must have felt frustrated the most by my beatdown. I didn’t dive deep into the what, the why, and the how.
“You lose a boon. If you don’t have a boon, you start losing parts of yourself – Body, Mind, Senses, Spirit. You do have at least one boon slot, right?” The girl slowly nodded. “Good. As for the gods, it’s best not to worry too much. Just make sure not to swear on or to anything, ever. And maybe don’t deface their statues for idolatry. They can get a tad… testy.”
Hannah’s mouth formed a round O. Elia got the impression that had she not clarified that, the girl would have done one of the above said things at some point.
“Is that why…” she trailed off, and Elia had to search for a moment until she arrived at the issue the girl thought was most obvious.
Ah, still on that bounty-business.
“Yes, well, let’s just say that ever since screwing with a favored champion of Aurana, self-defense has become my number one source of income.”
Karla hooked her arm into Elia’s and tugged her away. “See? You’re a pretty alright teacher after all.”
Elia grumped. And together, they made their way to the pact. The first signs of habitation were patrols of dregs. Then came the boarded-up buildings, hidden bases with supplies or plantations concealed within. They passed a group of raiders, as that was what the pact called those who went out in search of loot among the ruins of Loften.
They gave a wave, Karla making a sign Elia vaguely remembered as ‘escorting neutrals’. The exact translation was ‘back-walking with maybe-not-enemies’, but if she translated every gesture literally, she would spend half her day clutching her stomach, laughing.
Then, they arrived at the big trash walls, where people had barricaded the streets leading into the center of the pact. The uncountable dead ends turned the city into even more of a maze than it already was, but that only applied to those who didn’t know their way around.
Elia slipped into an old temple, climbed the tower, and gave an ‘all-clear’ signal, so people could leash the death-dog-dregs before they walked through their checkpoint.
When they emerged from an old gatehouse, the city looked as if it was transformed. The dust was cleaned off of the windows, there was no trash littering the roads, and the people that were walking around didn’t look like they were geared for war.
The last dregs of a raincloud were still overhead, and so while the others were gawking, Elia took out her rainshield, one of the few magical items that was common among the scraps of Loften.
Rainshield
A wooden bracelet inlaid with copper wires, these gadgets became wildly popular when the great hero Obronne successfully climbed the mountain. When he arrived at the peak, of all his armor, only this gadget remained on his body.
Infuse with a trickle of reservoir to ward off light to moderate showers
A small dome of invisible energy spread over the group, sending the light spray of water out and away to the sides. Elia thought that they were neat, but everyone else was too busy gawking to notice.
“No way.” Nathan stared at a bekki hauling lumber as if he had never seen one before. To be fair, he probably thought that Otis was just a weird exception. One data point was not enough for extrapolation and all that. But despite what must have been a cornucopia of wonders in front of his eyes, he was keeping a calm head, and one hand near his dagger.
He’ll make a good leader.
“Welcome to the Maroon Pact,” Elia said, spreading her arms in the sprinkle of rain. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
“It’s fuckin’ weird is what it is,” she heard Hannah mutter.
“Hey look!” Erik said, pointing at a stone statue sitting on the edge of a fountain, eating a sandwich. “A mecha!”
“Shhh, not so loud. And Mom said pointing at people is rude!”
“What she said,” Elia said, separating them up by tugging their scruffs. “Now, I’ll introduce you to a few people you ought to know, then get you sorted for some temporary visas and lodging. But I need your promise that you won’t tell anybody else outside of the pact of its existence.”
“I won’t,” said Hannah.
“Yeah, same,” said her brother.
“Good. Now, don’t get separated, don’t accept substances offered by random people, and do not, I repeat, do not sneak into buildings where you don’t belong.”
“Unless your name is Elia,” Karla commented.
“It was an emergency!”
“We ran out of milk,” Karla conspiratorially whispered to the two kittens.
“Ok, enough torpedoing my reputation.” Elia clapped her hands. “Let me show you where Karla and I live. It’s a tower, pink like a medium-cooked grug steak, and a great place overall.”
“You mean like the one encased in ice?”
“Yeah like the one–” Elia did a double take at the tower and the foot-thick layer smothering it from every side. The top was entirely missing, blown off like a cork. On the floor right below it, ice blasted out in violent, jagged streaks, giving the tower a lopsided and windswept crown.
Before she could even realize what was going on, Elia was moving straight towards it.