Riding with Ash, dew slid off Elinor’s chilled skin as her gaze drifted to the left in the lush greenery they passed, proceeding to the Lethix camp. She’d had time to ponder and talk with her Horsemen and young quen’talrat in their journey since leaving the sanctuary. The chatter of the humid jungle and the occasional flash showers that sprinkled the valley had brought Elinor’s attention to how wild this environment was and how warfare would happen.
Chief Zargoth’s mount had been left behind in their ceaseless ride through the dense and diverse jungle lowlands; Red kept her updated on his stamina, yet he never once faltered. White snatched up Valentina when they’d thundered into action, and Yeppa was nabbed by Black, gaining ground from the rear as Quin scouted for enemies ahead.
The Horsemen had reached Common-A and were swiftly approaching the ominous wall that blocked off Uncommon for most of her undead. Although, much of that should be solved in the coming war. She had to find a Rare-Grade corpse to reach the next minion grade, and what better place to find that than a mass conflict?
They rode from noon until daybreak the following day, and when they came to a stop, the bright spot in the sky reflected off the rapid and wide riverway that separated the Clanless Territory from the Lethix.
* — * — *
She’d followed the strong pull from her father’s presence to their main town, and the second she drew close enough to engage her father, she opened up a dialogue.
I’d love to chat, Dad, Elinor began, but we are in a bit of a situation. How should we enter the camp?
Her father went on the move, drawing closer as they spoke. “The safest route to not bring alarm would be to use the bridge, north of the village. Should I make my way to you?”
No. Hmm-hmm. It is wonderfully bad news that will kick things off for us. I assume you have heard what Butter is working on?
“I have. I’ll announce your return.”
And mention to Chief Utren that I have the Chief Zargoth of the Roxim with me. I’m sure that the Chiefs will want to talk.
“I’ll see to it. Haha. I’m sure Ectria will be thrilled that you’ve returned. How was your trip?”
Eventful…
Elinor ran him through the bullet points of what had happened since they’d split ways, and Ash spun his horse northward to trot beside the eastern shore of Lethix territory. Quin jumped down from the colossal trees to land beside the flaming horses that exited the dense foliage, scanning the fortified village zone.
Walls and battlements that defended those inside drew her notice, resembling the fortress to their northeast, pointing to potential troubles the clan had with the Clanless. Elinor took them to a large, fortified bridge in the distance, constructed half a kilometer away. Upon arriving, she found Angélica, her father, and Xaria Welix atop the gate.
As it opened, a chain split space above her, connecting to her hand and dragging her into the air. Her boots landed on the rough wooden logs that comprised the bridge, bound together by thick vines with pillars buried deep into the muck on both sides; given another few years, Elinor figured it would need to be destroyed and rebuilt.
Chief Zargoth dismounted with her, taking a strong and stable posture while moving to her side; he seemed used to hard riding, increasing Elinor’s opinion of the ri’bot.
Her body felt no pain, but she knew it was nearing its limit and needed to be reformed if she didn’t give it time to rest, while Zargoth seemed up for another few days without a problem. Valentina and Yeppa, on the other hand, looked about ready to fall off their horses and face plant the sand.
“Quite the development,” her father stated, jumping down with the Xaria and maid. “As for the witches Tiffany sent, I can feel them closing in, so it shouldn’t be long now.”
Not fast enough. Ash tossed her the bo staff he’d held onto, and she snatched it out of the air. White, Black, kick the tiger and frog off and get ready for the ‘fetch the witch’ expedition.
Walking to meet the ri’bot gate guards, flanking the Xaria and her father, Elinor motioned to the powerful warrior on his approach. “Xaria Welix, could I bother you with a task?”
The man seemed to have warmed up to her father in the last few days because he glanced between them. “That would depend on the task, Empress.”
“Some of my Mystics are likely being escorted to your camp as we speak, but we need to act in haste; the Xaltan are on the move. Communication is more needed than ever, and my Mystics will facilitate long-distance discussions between our clans.”
“Hmm.” His tight eyes darted to the powerful presence of the Roxim chief and his necklace that identified him, giving him a swift, respectful gesture. “Welcome, Chief Zargoth. As for your request, Empress, your Ice King has mentioned the Mysticism. I will clear their way.”
The snort of the large beasts and the rush of wind passed them as the horses and Xaria raced into the Lethix’s hilly jungle to find the witches; their undead escort would draw the riders in. Her father took her opposite side, guiding them toward the town with Valentina and Yeppa struggling to keep up due to their stiff and screaming muscles.
* — * — *
Whispers came from the brown-skinned ri’bot after seeing the Roxim chief and the mention of the Xaltan arming themselves. Elinor listened to her father’s time among the Lethix on their path into the community.
It was a far cry from the solid structures and craftsmanship of the Wixum and Delthax, but both clans had focused greatly on military and tradesmen. Everywhere Elinor looked, she saw quite a few female ri’bot; the ratio was deceptive, though.
Due to the fear of losing what precious few they had, the Lethix had moved all of them to their most fortified area, far away from the Wixum border, and even their allied Flex’s territory. A new set of troubles came from a new bit of information that her father brought to her attention in regard to the birthrate.
On Earth, toads laid up to 40,000 eggs in a cycle, but ri’bot could only have twenty at max, and of those, it was common for fifteen to all of them to die for various reasons within the first six months. The newborn death ratio had drastically increased over the last century, further playing into the idea the Susime were involved.
Scanning the huts and storing areas of the Lethix, Elinor noticed the sharp disparity in children and the protective zones designated for the children. It seemed they went to great lengths to care for the young and provide a large amount of nourishment, yet still, they died. In her father’s opinion, it was forced population control.
Apparently, it was a similar statistic with the Roxim, but perhaps even more extreme since they’d abandoned the idea of purity in their clan since Zargoth took over as chief. He seemed to blame it on his grandfather, though, for being the last Firewalker Mystic of their clan and falling for a Clanless woman just after the Fire Wars.
It further told of the dark times many of these valley clans had experienced since the war with the quen’talrat. An interesting comment came from the Roxim chief, though: it seemed the Xaltan didn’t have the same problem, which was why they’d grown so rapidly in the past one hundred years.
Elinor’s gaze fixated on the eastern wall as they neared Chief Utren’s hut, which was far more humble than Chief Kalix’s that overlooked the whole valley.
What did all these clans share in common? Their water sources came from the northern mountains, whereas the Xaltan and Komath’s originated from the southern mountain range.
They’d already confirmed the Susime used artifacts in the water to poison the Wixum, and their lake went to the Lethix and Flex. The knowledge could be used in their favor with the right framing.
Entering the private space of the tense Lethix Chief, Elinor smiled as Xaria Inora prompted the agitated Delthax female Xaria inside from another entrance. Utren’s amused and interested grandfather, Elder Chief Dren, sat on a thin piece of cloth in the discussion circle.
Apparently, the Flex weren’t happy about their peace talks, but they would come to hear what had sparked the Lethix’s attention. They would arrive in the evening, which gave her witches the chance to set up the ritual.
She took a backseat approach when Chief Zargoth explained the current situation happening at the border between the Xaltan and Roxim. The Nexus was a swirl of discussion between her, Quin, and her father. Valentina had passed out on the deck outside, but Yeppa wasn’t so fortunate, needing to give his report on his observations of her activity.
It was fairly easy to sit quietly on the side, only talking when asked to contribute or answer a question. Tiffany had a few days thus far to discover the Susime artifact cursing the water and bring it to Chief Yimara’s attention, and hopefully, she would be able to convince the other chiefs that Krava was the cause.
Elinor had gained a lot of favor amongst the various clans to push this angle; it didn’t hurt to have a little more credibility, even if the young woman wasn’t the most respected amongst the Delthax, the Roxim, Flex, and Lethix didn’t know that little disconnect between the Wixum and Delthax.
The Roxim put the advanced gear she’d given them to good use, spying on their neighbors and using the telescopes on the ridges to look across vast distances across the plains, given their excellent position. The training done with human firearms was minimal and restricted to their elites since their ammunition was finite.
Overall, what Elinor and Chief Zargoth had to sell to these four clans was that if the Roxim fell, then it was only a matter of time before they would. What Elinor hadn’t expected was to see what witch’s party Tiffany had sent to set up the communication Nexus in the Lethix’s camp.
Alisa Espiritu gave her an exhausted smile, hair a mess and utterly filthy in their haste to reach them. From what she recalled, the fifteen-year-old girl was Sal’s girlfriend, and Edmon filled her in on the details. Sal was Adoncia’s little brother and one of the hardest-working knights in Virgil’s little band, who was one of the few who had activated his abilities from joining their ranks.
Elinor left her father to further explain the details while joining the teenage girl and her frazzled coven, who had traveled more than a hundred untamed kilometers worth of jungle in the last two and a half weeks. That was hard on a bunch of girls who had only just recently started to do extreme hiking over the last two months.
* — * — *
Leaving her staff behind, Elinor exited the hut and looked over the ragged band of twelve other teens and young women that met her outside; they each tried their best to offer her a smile, but she waved them off. A few looked at Valentina, laid out on the deck in her cat nap with drool leaking out of her mouth with envy; they’d marched through the night with their undead escort.
Descending the steps, she eyed the packs her Horsemen had strapped to their mounts, Alisa beside her. “Hmm-hmm. How bad are you regretting this witch path?”
“Eh-heh, there are days I do think it would be nice to sit back at camp, tending the bamboo fields or watching kids,” she laughed. A few of the others nodded emphatically in agreement. “But then… I wouldn’t be able to see such immediate progress.”
“What do you mean by that?” Elinor asked, holding her hands behind her back and walking with the girl only a year younger than herself.
Alisa rubbed her dirty cheek and looked around at the ri’bot women, all very interested in them as they observed from a distance, whispering amongst each other. “I’m not a fan of The Queen’s methods, but she is very versatile in her rituals, and there are things in witchcraft I really like… We’ve healed so many people. I get to really stop pain, heal broken bones, and cure sicknesses by learning about this new world… I’m useful, and that helps me… cope, I think.”
Elinor saw her sentiment shared in her coven sisters’ faces. “And what do you think about me since I am the one that allows Tiffany to do her dark arts?”
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A strained smile lifted the girl’s mouth as she looked at her. “I think you’re an inspiration, Empress. You’re only a year older than me, and you’ve taken care of us… You saved us. I may not like what The Queen does, but I get that we’re in a really brutal world… I just want to be more on the positive side of building, healing, and connecting things. Sal told me he’d handle the harder part… Keep us safe.”
A little behind them, a young woman breathed a long sigh, staring ahead at the hut Yeppa had been told to take them for the ritual site; the scout was listening intently to them.
“I once heard a quote that comes to my mind when thinking about what you do, Empress.”
“I’m listening.”
She fixed her tangled mess of a bun as the other witches unstrapped the bags attached to her horsemen’s mounts to begin the effigy they would craft. “People sleep peacefully in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf… We’re all strong in our own way, but I don’t envy the weight on your shoulders, Empress.”
“Oddly… it doesn’t feel that heavy,” Elinor returned, surprising the girls as she prompted White to hand her one of the bags to carry into the hut. “In fact, it feels natural. The way I see it, an empress should never be frightened to step into any position within her empire—low or high. So, take me through what you are doing so I better understand the effort and work you put in to make our empire function.”
The girls quickly jumped into gear, energy filling them as they took her through each new step in their more unique way of fashioning this communication hub than Tiffany’s easier and more brutal method. The thirteen witches had been taking turns, using the skeletal torlim as mounts to practice their whittling skills.
It may look like arts and crafts to anyone looking at their work, but the animal heads, designs, and shapes they worked on were a complex ritual completely devoid of life and blood rites. It made Elinor smile to see the ‘White Witches’ explain their meticulous ingenuity in coming up with this ritual by picking apart Tiffany’s ritual components. They’d found substitutes after some effort and inquiry with their Witch Queen.
Nervously, they begrudgingly revealed a small hiccup. Sure, the process was a lot more exhaustive, required more energy, and needed a slab of metal for a more stable solar-powered solution, with a hydroelectric backup, but in the end, they believed they’d worked everything out. But… this was their first time bringing everything together; it was all theory, if well-researched to the point Tiffany accepted that it could work.
Elinor was excited to see the ritual’s process out of curiosity, if nothing else, entertained by the wolf-like head they’d made joints for to allow the wooden mouth to move; motion seemed to be required for the magic to function. It was good to have a diversity of thought and ethical approach to various problems.
If this worked, it would be a far more sustainable and more tolerated ritual for the ri’bot clans, and all because some squeamish witches didn’t like the gritty death and blood required in the original design. Alisa was turning out to be an invaluable addition and counter-balance in Tiffany’s covens, where Esmeralda was the Witch Queen’s darker disciple.
* — * — *
She stayed to observe the ritual setup, many of the ri’bot warriors and women being welcomed to watch as they built up their wood, flower, and moss effigy connected to the two small generators. Mysticism hadn’t been seen in this clan for a while, so it was a big deal to many of them to see new magical feats.
Xaria Inora had to leave with Ectria shortly after since the Delthax Xaria was making the other Lethix women jumpy and anxious. Elinor did manage to convince the catty toads to be less aggressive toward one another for the good of their clan and to set an example; they both saw it more as a competition to see who could be more accepting, which worked well enough for now.
The buzz really started when one of the chatty girls commented that any one of the ri’bot could also learn witchcraft, bringing a host of new questions the unaware teenage girl hadn’t been anticipating.
They were becoming popular, and Elinor assured them that they were fine to discuss whatever they wanted; the empire was an open book, at least when it came to those unaware of the deeper secrets that passed between the Nexus, some of which were only shared between Butter and herself.
It was nearing the point of completion when the sun dipped into the evening, and the girls’ nervousness came to a point, unsure if it would work; they promised Tiffany that if it didn’t, then they would be able to do the quicker and more gruesome version. Elinor was rooting for them.
Her father informed her that the Flex Chief and Elder Chief had arrived; similar to Valdar, his grandson had taken over the position of their clan’s leader.
Quin remained behind to cheer on the girls; the giant gorilla child seemed to have formed a bond with the teenage witches, excited to see them industrious and inventive. Things that were heavily promoted amongst the meritocracy-driven totalitarian society of the quen’talrat, making her want to see them succeed.
Elinor left them with a smile as the Lethix warriors and women were now encouraging the witches, anticipating the idea of being able to communicate across large distances. It was time to see if she could make this work between the five clans. Could she unite these clans with their shared problems, or were their grudges too deep to find common ground?
* — * — *
Conquest and War flanked Elinor as she came upon the Chiefs and Elder Chiefs, who were standing outside the hut now, arguing with one another. Unlike the muddy brown skin tone of the Lethix, the Flex had a lighter color and a linked, black triangle-shaped pattern across their whole bodies.
Elinor greeted the new additions. “Chief Loci and Elder Chief Garali, I hear you are not a fan of my proposal.”
“Empress of the Dead,” Loci huffed, likely around the same age as the Delthax Chief. “What makes you so certain that we want those dark blue Wixum women? Their color is an eye-sore.”
Chief Zargoth’s brow creased with a smirk. “Yet, as I hear it, you have already snatched away many of those blue women.”
“False accusations,” he snarled.
The Roxim Chief made a dismissive gesture. “Only what I have heard.”
“Ahem,” Elinor cut in, joining her father. “Would you be civil enough to allow me to explain my reasons why I believe this can work… with the Wixum and Delthax chiefs? I am sure you will want to hear what I have to say. I have uncovered many secrets, and there are forces conspiring to turn you against one another.”
Elder Chief Garali’s light blue eyes drifted to Elder Chief Dren before putting a hand on his grandson’s shoulder to quiet his building rage at coming all the way here for this. “What can you offer us now that would convince us to entertain such a… radical idea.”
Her father chuckled. “The fact you are here proves that there is reason enough for you to consider a peace pact. If you need more, then we can provide that.”
Elinor held up one hand and gestured at the nearly empty town, most of its occupants surrounding her witches. “All of you have problems with your populations and dying Mysticism. Do you think that is a coincidence? Who has grown stronger in the valley in the last century, and who has suffered and dwindled? Answer me that, Elder Chief Garali. You have lived it, have you not? Tell us what has changed in your generations of careful observations.”
Everyone turned to the light-brown-skinned wrinkled toad as he rubbed his chin. “What has changed? Hmm. When I took over from my grandfather after the Fire Wars, the Wixum, Flex, and Roxim were among the strongest clans in the valley. Yet, slowly, we have dwindled with a curse that has been placed on our women. The only clan that has grown ever stronger… would be the Komath and Xaltan, who were shells after the Fire Wars.”
“Coincidence?” Elinor asked, making the chiefs look at one another and ponder her question. “What Mysticism does the Komath have?”
“A rather… secretive one,” Chief Zargoth hummed. “Our Firewalkers were known from the Great Plains to the Western Mountains and nalvean City-States… Now, our glory is gone. Are you saying this is an orchestrated curse of some Mysticism?”
Elder Chief Dren leaned against his tribal-designed staff, looking at the Former Flex Chief before his hard gaze returned to her. “You would need powerful evidence of such a claim, Empress. Do you have it?”
A tilt came to Elinor’s lips. “Would I be telling you this if I did not? Think carefully. There is something that separates the north and south halves of the valley that is critical to your survival, which is…”
“…The Wandering River,” Chief Loci whispered.
“Indeed. What if I was to tell you the most important resource in a ri’bot’s life has been tainted by cursed items, and I’m not talking about that Wandering River, but it plays an important divide… Your water source comes from the northern mountain range. Theirs comes from…” She paused, allowing them to answer.
“…The southern range,” Utren growled. “It has been long suspected that the Komath do perform strange curses with their rituals, such as their Blood-Eye Mystics, among other unusual Mysticism, and King Edmon has stated your empire conducts such things, as well. Is this how you became aware of such a curse?”
“It is how we have identified one of the Wixum’s troubles in a rapid decline in their male populations… A cursed item in their lake,” Elinor carefully worded. “Are you willing to listen now?”
After a few sober looks at one another, the leaders calculated what it meant if she could prove such a thing, and Elinor then provided the nail in the coffin, her voice lowering to draw them in.
“And my Mystics can break this curse… My Queen of Witchery can identify these cursed objects that are reducing your population and harming your women and men… The cursed objects killing your children, who require what to develop?”
“…Water,” Dren hissed, nose twitching as he considered the idea and looked toward the river. “Maybe we should entertain this thought, Chief.”
Zargoth snarled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Remember, my clan is facing a threat now. This is a problem we can all agree on. It also makes Krava’s initial hostility and unwillingness to understand better the merits of Empress Elinor’s usefulness; he must have suspected she could call out his treachery and underhanded tactics, which she did. I could not have foreseen this, though… To take away our legacies in such a cruel and slow manner is…”
He clenched his fist, blood now in his hate-filled eyes. “But in the short term, the Roxim cannot hold out against the Xaltan for long once they attack. Our new weapons from The Empress’ world will buy us time, but their Dead-Eye Mysticism has only grown stronger in the past century. If we do not come to an agreement, it will only be a matter of time before you are in their sights for conquest.”
Chief Loci gestured to Elinor after locking eyes with Chief Zargoth, now invested in the image of his people slowly being whittled away like the Roxim Firewalkers. “Mmgm… We will attend this… Mystic Chief’s Meeting that you are calling. I will listen to your claims.”
Turning to lead the way, Elinor smiled as they followed her toward the hut, warriors from the Flex and Lethix in tow, with the Xaria flanking them. She saw a new female Xaria from the Flex talking with Welix, which was interesting. For being so short of women, having some in such high mortality and dangerous positions said something to Elinor; it was likely some of the women resented their sheltered and prison-like life in isolation, opting instead to take a stand in protecting their clan.
“Right this way.”
When she arrived, the ‘White Witches’ were going over the details a fifth time to be sure everything was in the right place. Some of them were physically trembling as the thirteen made a circle to complete the ritual.
Alisa led the process, the others providing a resonance for her words, sweat running down their faces as an orange light lit in the glistening, polished rocks used for the wolf’s eyes, symbols igniting with light and making the chiefs shrink back at the howling wind the witches conjured.
When it was over, four had fainted, and Elinor had her Horsemen carry them out for Angélica to tend to them. The others remained behind, waiting with bated breath as Elinor slid her finger down the lines to link to the first western fixed communication points they’d connected it to; a blue glow followed her touch until the symbol marking it lit up.
“Tiffany, can you hear me?”
The wolf’s eyes flashed blue, and the mouth swung open as a teenage girl’s voice piped up. “One moment, Empress! The Queen told me to inform her when you made contact. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Alisa sank to her back, stress streaming out of her lungs with a teary chuckle. “It worked! It actually worked! We’re now Intermediate Witches!”
“Yes!”
“It’s thanks to you, Alisa! We’re now beginner witches and no longer apprentices!”
“That last change you made to the wording was so critical!”
Elinor moved to the side as many of the Lethix women snapped their fingers in a signal of their achievement. Brushing back her hair, she held out her hands to help the exhausted yet thrilled witch. “Congratulations on becoming full-fledged witches, and for coming up with your own ritual. That means you can start hosting your own classes now?”
“Mhm! I’m just… Wow. It worked! Sal is going to be so proud.”
“I bet he is… Now, go get some rest. Quin will help you to get to the others. You may have just changed everything by making a stable telephone network for the empire. You did well, Alisa; now go rest.”
Tiffany’s teasing voice came through the wolf effigy, its eyes flashing a deep yellow as the Witch Queen’s magic enhanced the item, carving new, more advanced symbols and making the witches that remained stiffen and stumble to their feet.
“Hmm? It seems you proved Esmerelda wrong, Alisa. How wonderful! I look forward to you presenting me with a detailed report and summary of your work when you return. You have earned your grimoire, the second in the empire. Congratulations, you have opened up and are blazing the path for many White Witches to follow.”
Trying to hold back tears and face bright red, Alisa cleared her throat. “It was all thanks to your guidance, Mistress.”
“Let them rest, Tiffany,” Elinor chuckled. “Quin will help you girls to the place Angélica has prepared.” They gave her a happy bow and stumbled off in a daze; they would need Quin’s help. “Now, Chiefs, should we clear the area so we can discuss this delicate situation?”
Chief Loci and Utren followed the young witches’ exit, having seen a small portion of her Mysticism in action before making a gesture for their soldiers to clear the area. It was time to really get down to business. It was time to discuss treaties and war.
Elinor smiled as she got a new notification, mentally ticking off what she’d gained the since her last upgrades:
[Level Up - Level 17]
x1 [Skill Points Available]
x1 [Feat Extensions Available]
x1 [Equipable Feats Available]
[Grade Advancement - Monarch of Death III Unlocked]
[Death Pool II - Increased to A-tier]
[Life Tap III - Increased to E-tier]
[Butterfly III - Increased to E-tier]
[Artificial Body II - Increased to S-tier]
[Enhanced Construct I - Increased to S-tier]
Her gaze darted to the Roxim Chief; ironically, the narrowed-eyed ri’bot was the first of the five clans she’d been entreating to recognize her as her own nation and power. He was entirely on her side, but that came with the territory when he needed her help.
Now was the time to play her hand and set her ultimate goal in motion; she had the cultural, political, geographic, and military information she needed to risk putting her neck out. Still, there were two things she still needed to work on, and that was her personal martial prowess and getting her Rare-Grade Unintelligent Undead. It was time to go on the offensive.