“It’s true, Mateo,” Amalia said, picking herself up. Her blackened veins were fading. “The taint is leaving my body. She grimaced and clenched her teeth; her strength had not returned to her fully yet.
“Lady Amalia!” Mateo called out. He rushed to her side to support her; he threw one arm of hers over his shoulder. Elizabeth ran over as well, providing more support. The two led her to a vacant chair, where she sat down crooked, using the wooden back as a crutch.
“Just Amalia,” Amalia said frankly, “I’ve decided my affiliations to my family are dead.” she laughed weakly. “Without the use of my lightning, I am no more than common-born,” Amalia admitted.
Mateo motioned to say something but was caught silent by the older woman’s laughter. His concern turned to anger; he faced back to Amalia. “I took an oath, Amalia. I would learn and protect you with my life until, if it means following you and stripping my honor to become a knight, so be it I will.”
Elizabeth clasped her hands together and swooned, “How sweet! I do hope that someone writes a novel about you two, A soon-to-be-knight and his fallen from grace master, a perfect romance!”
Mateo rolled his eyes. “Shut your mouth,” Mateo demanded. “Our relationship isn’t like that!”
Elizabeth stuck out her tongue and chuckled. Amalia looked up to the elder and asked, “You fully expected me to die, didn’t you, witch?”
The woman sneered and spoke, “No, Dearie. I’ve just how pure your heart is. Your will is strong, and it would take more than a simple cleansing to kill you!” The older woman sat at the table and stared Amalia in the eyes. “However, I was prepared for an accident,” she admitted, her eyes seemingly glowing a bright blue for a second.
Amalia looked down at the older woman’s hand resting on the table. A broken circle with what can be considered more runes in the form of scars upon her skin. “Not all of us can have the same strength you did,” she admitted.
Amalia looked back to meet her gaze, then blinked away, “Teach me the magics now, witch.”
The old woman cackled, “Right, right. Time is of the essence, and you have places to be!” The woman got up from the chair and went for the rags that hung over the rectangular hole where a door should be.“After you,” she said softly.
~^~
Rinae looked at the cluster of eggs, they were the newborns, the highest and most potent of the castes, yet while they gestated inside their orange membranes, they were the most vulnerable they could ever be. All they could do was be carried on the backs of their kindred.
The swarm had become decimated; with those that fled Rinae’s hive for the imposter’s and the fight with the dragon, they would need some time to rebuild.
Hera approached Rinae at her left side. Rinae cocked her head to the side at her oldest, genetic twin. “You smell that, sister?” Hera said, sniffing the air. “We’re close to the traitor sister.”
Rinae looked up to the sky; an aurora of colors flashed in gradients. “Your senses are sharp as ever, Hera,” Praised Rinae. Hera’s pale eye-less face brightened up at the words; if anyone ever had gotten close to her, they’d think she was blushing. “Scarpha!” Rinae yelled.
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Instantly, the scorpion woman pulled up beside her, submissive. She was hunched and kept her hands together almost maliciously; beside her were her perfect brood, four of them, they towered over Rinae, an almost seven-foot-tall individual herself. Rinae looked at them; the pheromones they brought with them were practically infuriating, enough to get her blood to a boil; they were suited to be better in a lesser command role, much like extensions of the hive. Their genealogical background was a testament to how much of an asset Scarpha was to rebuilding from nothing.
“We set the nest up here,” Rinae declared. “Get the green-prey to start building.”
There were a short pause and a small amount of chittering behind Scarpha’s mandibles. “Right away, brood-sister,” Scarpha hissed. She scuttled back a few feet and released a biological chemical; the airborne scent would have been invisible to anyone but the species.
The orcs immediately began chopping down trees to feed to the larger and less combat orientated swarmlings.
One of the infected orcs was carrying a large bundle of logs, a hungry tentacle wrapped around him, if he could’ve, he would’ve screamed, but due to his hypnotized nature, he just allowed himself to be brought to a mouth and consumed. Everything that was chewed up was then digested and spewed out as resin material, which could be taken to make walls and other structures. Swarmlings that could fly helped out as much as they could, while most took up positions as scouts ready to retreat at a moment’s notice.
Rinae flew to a higher position. They were in a perfect position, the side of the valley. The high walls over them were perfect for blocking off one lane of attack and opening up for counterattacks in the natural choke-holds. The sun began to set on what was going to be the staging zone for the upcoming war.
~^~
“Again!” laughed the old lady. “Your ability to adapt is wondrous!”
Amalia cut the tip of her ring finger and touched a rock; she made curved lines, straight lines, geometrical shapes, and so forth. One snap of her fingers and the entire thing came to life; it reformed, stacking boulders overtop of it until it was vaguely in a humanoid shape. The golem’s hand descended in front of Amalia. She took one giant leap on, and up she went. The golem brought her to chest height. A smile of victory worked its way to the surface.
“Amalia! You’re fantastic!” Mateo cheered on.
Elizabeth smirked, “Think I could learn a thing or two from this witch’s magic? Doesn’t look that hard.”
The older woman approached the golem, which brought down Amalia to a reasonable height. “I must ask, your ability to master this is unheard of… was your mother perhaps… one of us?
Amalia jumped, pulled out her sword, and slashed the rune she inscribed on the rock that was now the chest. Once the rune was no longer whole, the entirety of it crumbled to the ground in a dangerous waterfall of stone.
“I am unaware of much of my mother’s past,” Amalia admitted stepping off the rock hand.
“Shame it would have been excellent to know who she was; however, you have a lot of potential, young girl.”
“Perhaps my mother was a witch; my father would have kept it a secret; he hid many from everyone,” Amalia told, remembering the experimentations in the church.
“Hmm,” the old woman hummed. “Enough of the history lessons,” she demanded. Using a cane, she drew in rune in the ground. “Draw this.”
And Amalia did as she was told; she cut a finger and did so on another rock. Then upon activation, the rock imploded. It sent shards flying in directions. Amalia looked in shock from the force of which it created. It was as if the air itself was also sucked in before it splashed back, causing it to explode.
The old lady cackled once more. “Dearie, it looks like I can no longer teach you anything,” She pulled a piece of folded paper from her woven robe. She grabbed Amalia’s hand and placed it in the palm of her hand. Her face became rigid and stern. “Use this only when you absolutely have no choice.”
Amalia was tempted to look at the parchment, but her curiosity wasn’t that strong; if it was a prepared spell, chances are she wouldn’t even be able to read it anyway. She stowed the item underneath her armor between her clothing. Amalia nodded to her and turned towards her party, “We’re heading out,” she ordered.