Earlier...
The roguish woman was in deep water. She knew it. The hellspawn knew it, even the-
And then she saw Farlen walk back into the room.
“Wait is that a fucking Gnome!? How in the black stars did you all manage to find one?”
Whatever everyone else was expecting, those words weren’t it. Jerald, feeling an extraordinary amount of shame, covered his face with his hands. Zaiyoral narrowed her eyebrows. Isha was simply confused. Farlen for his part looked mildly offended.
“Miss, I would prefer you to refrain from such audacious vernacular in our home. We follow Nasagi in these halls. Speaking of the abominations is quite blasphemous.”
The prisoner just scoffed.
“’ Course, first gnome I see and he’s right prick with a stick up his ass.”
Zaiyoral went from her constant resting bitch face to one of indignation and fury. It’s for that reason the prisoner found a blade to her throat. The human female remained relaxed. Or tried to. Zaiyoral easily saw the hidden tension on her.
“You will speak to my husband with the proper respect he deserves. Or you’ll find yourself regretting it.”
Now it was time for the stranger to be left confused. She silently mouthed the word husband. Her eyes traveling from Farlen and Zaiyoral, doubt evident. When they settled on Isha, clarity befell her. She then began to laugh.
“Really!? You shagged a gnome? Ha! That’s rich! Ha, ha, ha- oh God’s it hurts to laugh.”
Her laughter grated on Zaiyoral, who was tempted to slit her throat right then and there. Farlen was left blushing, uncomfortable with such an open focus on his relationship. The two young hellspawn just awkwardly stood there while she laughed. Eventually, she stopped laughing. A more serious demeanor taking hold of her.
“Well, that explains why you wanted System access so badly. Non-sanctioned half-breeds get really fucked, don’t they? You gotta go hard or die when your old enough. If that, being the lucky ones.”
She gave a half-hearted struggle to her restraints. Zaiyoral was still keeping the dagger close, but the human woman seemed to care truly little.
“Not that much thanks for a job well done, right? Fucking thankless customers. Shows me trying to be nice.”
A bladed tip was pushed into her skin, keeping her from speaking further. Zaiyoral had run out of patience.
“I believe we are quite done with your incessant rambling. While you answered a few questions already, I still have more for you. Like whom you are, how you got into our home in the first place, and why is a human of all things underground instead of the surface.”
A snort came from the woman.
“V, and that’s all you’ll get from me on that front. Second, you guys don’t know this castle as much as you should. Third, I’d say the same about all you hellspawn. Hells, the gnome wouldn’t be so outta place if he’d been the underground variant.”
Zaiyoral was clearly not satisfied with those answers. Her dagger dug deeper than any before, the tip sinking into the skin but having yet to draw blood. Before she could attempt to pry more information, Jerald spoke up.
“She’s part of the Esmian army.”
Jerald shrunk into himself as the room's focus centered on him. It was made worse by the looks of anger, suspicion, confusion, and curiosity. While he could have V keep talking, he felt that could make his situation worse than it already was. She would eventually reveal he was involved, so he thought it’d be better if the truth came from his mouth instead of hers. It could possibly lighten the punishment he was likely to get if he speeds things up by bypassing interrogation.
“I, uh, did some research while Isha was recovering. Saw she had an emblem under her coat that looked familiar. Took a while, but Farlen has enough history books that I found one of their old symbols. A bit off since it’s a century-old but close enough. Hard to miss a multiheaded hydra.”
Everyone looked at V for confirmation. She herself was looking down at her chest. Embroidered and blending into the leather armor, was a lizard-like creature with four heads. Illusory but recognizable if you knew what you were looking for. V just grit her teeth, failing to hide the evidence so easily.
“Fucking told ‘em you don’t give any tell-tale signs if you sending someone underground. Fucking bureaucrats. Always ruinin’ everything.”
Having confirmed this information, it left everyone a bit befuddled about the situation. For many reasons but only one really mattered to Zaiyoral. Sheathing her dagger, she took a more diplomatic approach than just using threats.
“What does Esmian Alliance want with my daughter?”
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V smirks.
“The greenhorn? Nothin. Well, nothin' ‘bout her specifically. More what she could be than what she is. See, Esmian needs more soldiers. Problem is, the ones we’re looking for need a certain type of experience. Underground natives are the ideal recruits. An’ bein’ honest, the military is a bit desperate for recruits right now.”
She chuckles.
“’ Course, I'd scouted the rest of you first, but the little hellspawn over there got to me first. Said I’d be handsomely rewarded if I’d help her first and kept quiet about the whole thing. Even gave me this nice necklace as a first payment.”
Tilting her head up, a simple yet detailed black necklace embroidered with a large white pearl. Isha could only shrink in shame as both her parents eyed her. Her father filled with shock and mild anger. Her mother was, for the first time in Isha’s life, was filled with something other than varying levels of dissatisfaction. A look of betrayal.
“Oh~. I wasn’t supposed to spill that little secret, was I? Darn shame. But now that you know why I’m here and that I’m not a threat, mind letin’ me go?”
V was ignored for a moment as the family of three was having a moment of distress. Eventually, Farlen was the one to take charge.
“We shall speak of this at a later date.”
Farlen then returned to V and began asking his own questions.
“You have yet to explain why the Esmian army needed soldiers in the first place.”
V, who had been speaking with varying levels of amusement, dropped her joyful tone at these words.
“Wait, you all don’t know? Thought you of all people would be the first to know since ya’ll are so close to the front lines and all.”
Clearly not understanding and uncharacteristically stressed, he spoke with more venom than Isha had ever heard.
“Know what? Speak clearly or I’ll remove your useless tongue.”
V was now incredibly serious, any hint of mirth utterly vanishing.
“The Mind’s Festival has begun again. Matter of fact, it’ll start in four days if my math’s still on point.”
The atmosphere in the room dropped in several degrees. Everyone was immediately on edge, fear gripping their hearts. Farlen couldn’t bear to entertain the thought here words were true.
“You are lying. It’s been only thirteen years, not the traditional fifteen.”
V just game a small self-satisfied smile, void of any real joy.
“And you’d be right. Which is why we are having this conversation in the first place. No one was ready, especially after a not too recent war with Ubrar Empire. We were licking our wounds when we first started getting reports of people disappearing in our mines. A couple Mind Thief sightings, discovering numerous tunnels leading into the Underground, and an altercation with a Mind Killer later, its little doubt for the people in charge.”
This information left everyone in distress.
Zaiyoral somehow managed to look even paler as the blood drained from her face. She of all people was familiar with a Mind’s Festival, having lived through three of them. A Mind’s Festival was an utter bloodbath that rarely if ever left anyone alive if you were caught. An entire civilization that lived by consuming a person’s psionic personality and Intelligence points was absolutely lethal.
Farlen, even as, a non-native to where the Mind’s Festival routinely occurred originally, had intimate knowledge of Mind Thief’s abilities. Through psionic ability, something other than magic, they could manipulate and control minds. A powerful ability only made worse by the fact they could eat people’s minds. It was, in Farlen’s opinion, one of the worst ways to have died. You would live, physically, but lack any and all mental faculties. You would be stuck in a vegetative state, a soul trapped in a body with no will of its own. A horrifying way to live, regardless of how short it turned out to be.
Isha and Jerald were too young to have remembered too well the last Festival. But the feelings and stories had stayed with them. Running, hiding, living in constant fear in the undergrounds. The horror stories adults would tell them of the Mind Thieves. The absolute terror others would be in if they ever come across any of those creatures. They knew the worry the oncoming horde rightfully deserved.
“We need to get ready. Prep the defenses. Send out an immediate recall of all our hunting parties. Set up evacuation measures if we need to. We need to-“
Zaiyoral began to ramble hurriedly, a million thoughts racing through her mind. She then left Farlen’s personal room, intent on surviving the oncoming storm. Entirely forgetting everyone else. Even their informant/prisoner.
Farlen assumed he was the one in charge then. Stepping towards V, he unclasped the necklace, much to her displeasure. Hey then turned to the only other hellspawn in the room.
“We will speak of this later. Expect to be suitably punished by that point. For now, everyone needs to prepare if we want to survive this mess. In the meantime, Jerald please escort your guest to the nearest exit. Isha, you will unsummon your Minion and begin your training to receive an appropriate Class.”
Jerald understood, and began to undo the restraints on V. Isha was much less cooperative. She hounded her father as he began to collect regents and recipes spread across his alchemy room.
“Why? He could help! You’ve seen how strong he is. He doesn’t even stay dead when you knock him out. We could really use him dad. Why-“
Farlen looked Isha dead in the eye. Isha's words choked in her mouth as her calm father looked at her with unrestrained fury. His words came out as a whisper, not lacking in force with every word that left his mouth.
“Isha. For the past week, your mother has been crying herself to sleep every night. She sent frequent search parties for you, stretching our manpower thin. She has also gone on personal expeditions and has come back with a variety of injuries each time. A stranger managed to sneak herself into our home numerous times because of you. Compromising our defenses and doubting our guardsmen capabilities. You have endangered not only your life by attempting to receive access to the System before your time, but also everyone in this castle as a consequence when you unwittingly summoned your Minion. An Undead that beat me into unconsciousness and your mother within an inch of her life. Twice. An Undead that displays power far beyond its capabilities and far beyond your ability to summon. I do not have the time, patience, or inclination to entertain your opinions. You will do what I say and there will be no argument. Is that clear?”
Isha was staring at the ground, failing to make eye contact. Her hands holding tight to her cloak as her father reprimanded her actions. She had many mistakes in her life. None had ever made her feel this small. Especially since it was her father, a kind and collected man all her life, hammering everything that went wrong because of her decision.
“Yes, Father.”
Farlen didn’t respond. He just went back to work.
Isha walked off. She was going to do as she was told and relieve herself of her Minion.
V and Jerald just stood there awkwardly. Being a third party to family was prone to make most uncomfortable. V found enough courage, possibly stupidity as well, to ask a question that’s been on her mind.
“I take it payments off the table den, right?”