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B3 — 23. Returning Home

The calming notes of a piano pricked Elinor’s ears as she exited her internal world, the rhythm playing from the orange crystal record player High Lady Karia Tarkov gifted her. Reorienting herself, her connection to the Nexus flooded back as Ashrit’s influence waned, bringing a chaos of inquiries.

“Empress?!”

“Elinor! Is it you? Tiffany says someone was hijacking your soul. What happened?” her father asked, stress emanating from their connection through the network. “The hag didn’t do anything to you?!”

Autumn’s mildly annoyed voice interrupted, once again infiltrating their private discussions. “You would think, after watching my head roll across the floor, that I would be cleared of suspicion. She is stable.”

Elinor pushed herself into a sitting position against the headboard. Scanning the room, she felt the soft fur blanket beneath her tickle her skin. Castria was seated in the corner, trying not to interfere with the bustling activities around the bed.

Lilya’s cool, calculating cadence followed. She was busy mixing ingredients into a tonic or potion on a cart beside the bed. “You speak as if you had some hand in that, hag. As I understand it, you were of absolutely no help. Is that right, Tiffany?”

“Yes, but no, to be fair,” The Witch returned. “Distracting the entity seemed to benefit things. At least, things started to get better after she poked her nose into the conflict. Was Autumn of help, Empress?”

A small smirk lifted Elinor’s lips as she caught Black, Ash, and Roman in the sitting room to her right. It seemed everyone had rushed to her side to be of use if they were needed. Her attention was drawn to the hag as the disguised creature examined herself in the mirror, finishing up the stitching on her neck, now reattached.

Hardly. Autumn was more interested in getting a peek than helping, and she lost her head for the price. It seems that wasn’t the only thing you lost, she noted, spotting the large clump of severed hair on the carpet. I don’t need your insight or support in this matter, but I hope your glance at Divinity was worth it.

The brown-skinned woman used the back of her fingers to push back what remained of her now neck-length hair. It reminded Elinor what a Divine or Infernal Soul Expansion could do—a literal projection of one’s inner soul into reality—but she would have to test the normal version when the time was right.

The hag chortled at her study, gripping her neck and causing a flare of orange light to seep out of the stitching. “What do you expect from me, dearies? Yes, I am quite experienced and powerful… yet that does not mean I can challenge a Lesser Goddess, much less a Creation Deity. Mmm. This will do for now.”

She rose to her feet and smoothly turned, leaning her lower back against the beauty station to stare at her. “I was right to assume the goddess would not waste her effort killing me and merely threw me out like rotten food—my favorite. In any case… shall we do business? I am sure you have discovered a way to smuggle me out.”

Tiffany’s voice brightened at the subject as she handed the hag the thick scroll to unwind and study. “By all means, browse to your heart’s content. You will find everything in order for a fair price for what we both desire. After all, it isn’t just your life on the scales, but all your future lives and your very soul itself which is at threat in this dying place. There are some… additions for loosening the leash a tad, should you be able to accommodate them.”

The hag’s lip curled as her thin fingers closed around the parchment, her pink fingernails gleaming in the light orbs hovering nearby. “I take it you had a visit from Grace’s goddess, who gave you forewarning about this outcome. Most curious… It would be folly to think I could find my way out of a contract co-authored by such a higher entity. Unless… they want me to exploit a point. Fascinating…”

Tiffany maintained her cheery demeanor, now that the threat had passed. “I do hope you have the aptitude and skill to accomplish some of our requests. I look forward to working with you, Madam Autumn.”

“A new, acceptable title, and one I’ve been given before,” the creature laughed, moving to the sitting area to take a spot opposite Castria’s corner. “Mmm. Yes, this was written by someone quite crafty, and I believe much of it comes from you, my sweet witch.”

“Indeed, it was!” Tiffany boasted, puffing out her chest. “I’d love to go over it with you…”

Leaving the pair to tease and banter with one another, finding rare, like-company, Elinor turned her focus to the others in the room. Primarily, her frowning father, annoyed she hadn’t answered his questions yet and very worried, by the vibe she got through their connection. In like manner, the nervous Tempest looked like she wanted to ask something, but the girl would have to wait.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she smiled and shook her head as Lilya offered her a blue concoction. Whatever good it may do, I made a promise to my sister to have my first meal with her since becoming a lich. Yes, Dad, we will talk, she said, as he gave her a critical stare. Give me a moment to gather my thoughts.

Her father’s blue eyes and face displayed complex emotions, gripping him in a new way since he’d discovered her past life. “Elinor… Yeah, I’ll just wait for you to come to terms. I’m… worried, though. Very worried.”

There is a lot for me to discuss, she laughed, feeling somewhat different after her confrontation with her sister’s past life. Butter and I fought off her dead goddess half that is somehow still lingering in Butter’s spirit. I—hmm?

When her feet met the ground, her legs almost buckled, making her grimace. Lilya withdrew her potion without question, but her dad was quick to support her.

“Careful! Tiffany—”

No, I’m fine, Dad. Really.

“Not exactly.” Lilya sighed. “It is not only your body that is the problem, Empress. As Tiffany explained to us, this invasion affected your entire soul. Your gained EXP, as she calls it, affects not only your spirit but also your Intelligence and body. Your entire existence is stressed after your battle.”

Flexing her fingers, Elinor’s vision narrowed. Not the battle… It must be from the Soul Expansion. I don’t have a body, though; this is just artificial. Although, I suppose it wouldn’t matter if the Soul Expansion and rapid increase in EXP affects everything I am. Hmm. I thought you didn’t have a concept of the spirit or soul.

Lilya chuckled as her dad stood off to the side, looking very unlike himself. “The Kaspir Kingdom does not, but the Desert Royal Trade Coalition does. Many Beast Tribes tend to have such beliefs. The Sand Jessebe under-dwellers’ entire culture surrounds spiritual enlightenment; this is a tonic they taught me. Also, Empress…”

Setting down her flask, the former queen picked up a hand mirror and handed it to Elinor. Her brow furrowed as she took the item and stared at herself, fingers rising to her now-pointed ears.

I’m… mixing with Irkalla’s image? I suppose this Feat does work with how I see myself, and it is hard not to see pieces of my former life creeping into my identity.

She looked up at her dad, now knowing why he was so agitated, beside her almost being potentially killed or taken over moments before. “What do you make of my changing facial features, Dad? Do you think I’m being overtaken by Irkalla on a more subtle level than what Ashrit did in trying to fully take over Butter?”

It took a few tense seconds before her dad shook his head, bending down to hug her. “I can’t say I’m the same man I used to be after everything that happened. I know you’re still my Elinor… just mixed with a far more mature woman. In a way, it’s, hmm, like I’m watching you grow up… only so much faster. I’m just worried about what your mother is missing.”

With her head resting on his shoulder, Elinor saw Tiffany’s shoulders droop at his words, pausing in her conversation with the hag. Once again, he’d rejected her as his wife. Before, he’d wanted to bring her back and had given her all his attention, but now, after learning what the hag could do, he had totally rejected The Witch.

Letting out a short sigh, Elinor drew away from her dad and took one last look at her maturing face. At least her skin hadn’t dyed blue yet. We will get down to business, then. How long was I unconscious? Where is Grace?

Her jaw tightened when she moved around her father and saw the overcast morning glow peeking through the closed curtains as a light drizzle fell over the city. Castria piped up and answered her question as she took a seat across from Roman, the blind man scrutinizing her behind his crystal-like glasses.

“It’s about 8 a.m., Empress. You’ve been out all night and will leave in less than two hours.”

Two hours, Elinor mumbled, crossing her legs and smiling as her father sat next to her. We cut things close. And Grace?

“Umm. Do you want me to open the curtains? There is a large group gathering outside, near the inn’s backyard training field, eager to see you off. Roman called it together. The king and queen will be in attendance,” she nervously reported. “Grace is double-checking your wagon, and is accepting a lot of departing gifts from the nobility and citizens.”

Wonderful… Her gaze darted to the hag, a frown touching her lips as she scanned the very long, unwinding scroll. I assume the Paladins told them about my rush upstairs. What have you told them, Lilya?

Her Monarch of Alchemy calmly took an armchair in the circle, smoothing out her extravagant dress. “An urgent meeting you had to attend, using your unique methods and powers. Nothing more, nothing less. The mystery will cause rumors in a more positive way, such as who is this mysterious goddess you were accompanying around the city. I have already informed the High Duke, and he is running interference with the nobility.”

There was no need for concern, then, she said, fingernail tapping her knee as she stared at the unabashed and totally calm blind man sitting across from her. I assume the students of the House of Raven will be in attendance to see us off, Castria.

“Yes, Empress.” The girl’s smile became forced as her gaze darted to her ears and face. “My big sister is helping Grace. Although, umm, your changed features are sure to cause some… other rumors.”

“There’s nothing to fret over,” Lilya interjected. “It will actually further support your claim that you came across the Great Ocean, being of the mythical long-eared race that sailed the stars. I will further cultivate your origin in your absence.”

The weight of returning to a possible nightmare of circumstances dissipated as her court explained their actions and how they’d mitigated suspicions. Good. If we are on a clock, we’ll wait for my explanation of events until we are back on our planet. In any case, it isn’t pertinent to the group in Kaspir. Castria, light the fires.

Her Monarch of the Storm jumped to her feet and hurried to light the pink flames in the room, creating a damping effect so that most Tempest couldn’t listen in.

Opening her mouth for the first time since awakening, Elinor refrained from showing the weakness she felt in her exhausted soul. “Roman, we will discuss this more after we depart. I am sure we have much to talk about regarding your part in this grand play. Is there anything you want to add?”

The deceptively young man leaned back, rolling around the hilt of his expensive-looking cane in his palms, which he’d obtained at some point. A grin split his lips, and he gave her a gracious bow. “You are masterclass, Empress. I am more impressed by what you managed to accomplish than I could have dreamed. I managed to look over the contract you made with our dear servant girl that you bought…”

Elinor’s questioning eyes followed his casual gesture toward the hag, silently speaking to Tiffany in the corner of the room. A small glint appeared in the creature’s eyes as a swirl of colors embraced the woman, revealing the new skin suit of a beggar.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“My affairs are in order, Empress,” the hag privately cackled. “And… yes, I can do everything you’re asking—at least, for a limited time. Who told you about the anchor I prepared that will provide a gateway back into this world? Ashrit was not the little bird in your ears whispering secrets. It must have been someone else.”

Excitement bubbled up within her, and Elinor’s smile grew as the hag’s noble lady disguise returned. Autumn was still puzzling over the contract’s details while questioning Tiffany about who helped her craft such an iron-clad deal.

Roman again drew her attention after the enticing news. “It seems you will be making return visits rather regularly. Would… it be possible to create a gateway to bring other individuals to our homeland through your power?”

Elinor’s hungry eyes darted to Autumn, her head tilting to the side while tapping a particular line near the end of the unfurled scroll. Can I bring Castria and anyone else back to my world?

“I hate to disappoint, Empress, but just because a tunnel has been created does not mean the rules that govern the divide between our worlds are bypassed. It is impossible to circumvent its field, even for those of the level of gods, so far as I can tell. Hmm. Hehehe. It must have been Nungal, the Quiltra’s goddess…” she proudly proclaimed.

“Grace is a clear sign of her interest in you. Yet, her presence still escapes me, proving how crafty the hare’s goddess is. I have always been cautious of dealing with that tribe, due to her hand in guiding it. I would be careful of her, Empress. She may be trying to wiggle her way free of this dying universe in the same way I am.”

Elinor wanted to laugh at how wrong the hag was for once. Nungal was not bound to this universe; the goddess was far more potent than Ashrit and her when they’d been at their most powerful. At this point, she was sure of it. Nungal was above their concept of gods and goddesses, and she happened to have a brother whom she was cautious of.

You’re wrong, Autumn. You thought you could further tip the scale in your favor, but I can tell you without hesitation that Nungal is not trapped in this world. In fact, there is a system of rules that she manipulated in my favor to overcome Ashrit. We will add a bit more to the scale for that bit of information.

The hag doubled over with laughter, her teeth flashing and the yellow-eyed monster underneath twisting her pretty face. “I believe we will have a splendid partnership moving forward, Empress. Only those who have a… Soul Pass, I suppose you could describe it, may enter or leave.”

Sighing, Elinor’s cheer dampened a little, yet Nungal had given her a hint on how to obtain such a pass. Focus on the eager blind man, she nodded. “I do know of a way for others to join us within our kingdom… in time. Now, let us prepare to leave. There is much that needs to be done once we are home.”

The pressure rising in Elinor’s chest wasn’t from fear but from what she’d gained in this Legend Quest. Her powers had grown to exceptional degrees, although they did come with drawbacks:

She was a Warlord now. Yes, she could become a personal powerhouse for an hour a week, yet that strength wouldn’t match the soldier’s spirit she channeled. It was something to be used when she needed to display her strength in a more tangible way or invoke fear. In any case, it was highly adaptable since her powers changed based on the unit’s spirit she used.

Through Roman’s Legend Quest and the power of his Greater Seed, she’d opened up a whole new world. However, she could only obtain resources from it in a limited way, and apparently, the portal had a time limit. That being said, if the gateway had already opened, it should be able to be renewed somehow. Renegotiating with the hag when the topic came up would be on the agenda.

Finally, she’d discovered much about herself and her past. She was Level 25, and her Soul Expanse had reached the point of being able to expand and affect the outside world. If she could do this, then others would, as well. From what she understood, though, it was an advanced technique that required a certain level of personal experience and inner power.

Accepting Roman’s invitation had been the right choice. Now, she was invested, and so was he. This was not the end of the Kaspir Kingdom. There was plenty more to gain from this world. It was time for her to officially establish her kingdom among the ri’bot tribes.

To reach this point, she’d taken risks, manipulated, and maneuvered the political landscape of five ri’bot clans and an entire kingdom of powerful Tempest. She’d learned, grown, and overcome every challenge.

Elinor stood up, the tension of returning home and reuniting with her little sister resonating within her breast. She knew Butter had her own story to tell, and there were many secrets her sister had discovered about their new home’s history that could change their next move. However, what was for sure was that the drums of war sounded in her chest.

The Xaltan were attacking the Roxim. War should be with Chief Zargoth, and Tiffany’s Witch Covens should have awoken their leader’s Firewalker Mysticism, providing a further edge to their military arsenal.

Klaus and Emelina were in the Nalvean Empire amongst the Clavex Clan, learning more about their light spirit Mysticism. After chatting with the Supreme Chief of Life, Utelira, the Life-Binder, Elinor had an idea of where the people were obtaining their divine powers—the Supreme Chief of Light, no doubt, trapped in a gem by Shade’s machinations in the distant past.

Garu’s visit to the Ethereal Clan’s secret village, with the additional information he’d gained about their neighboring kingdom of ri’bot to the west, could bring new challenges and potential alliances. If anything, trading partners could prove useful.

Krava was busy in the far eastern plains, gathering support and a large army from the two Great Clans that ruled the grasslands. The Xaltan were their immediate threat.

Another hidden danger came from the news she’d received about the Elder Chief’s rogue Xaria, Dalria, who had killed her mother and now served the Scarlet Hand. The woman was with Jennifer, her mysterious cult leader, converting the ri’bot clans between the valley and Nalvean Empire to their south.

They had potential enemies on all sides, so they couldn’t grow complacent.

A minor point of contention came from the Clanless, who were preparing to expand. Local warlords were conscripting the ri’bot rejects and exiles of the zone into their ranks. Valentina, her ambitious 16-year-old Beastkin Assassin Tiger-girl, was stirring up trouble there, but she suspected she might need to send reinforcements for the girl when she returned.

The girl was the hot-blooded type, and looking back, Elinor reconsidered her decision to let the girl roam. She’d been comparing the girl to herself, wanting to expand and not be restricted, but now that she had further context into why her mind had matured so rapidly, it gave her a new perspective. She’d sent Valentina in as a spy half-cocked. The girl needed a tutor.

If all of that weren’t enough, Butter would be returning from the Crystal Gateway she went into with a story to tell. She suspected the Susime were not going to survive much longer without their Supreme Chief.

The Prume’s warning had been centered around the Susime, and now she was wondering if the gems Spokesperson Jet’al had smoked in his pipe were lingering, crystalized energy from a time when the ri’bot were world conquerors. It certainly made them more interesting.

Elinor exited the fancy accommodations she’d been gifted, passing a few satisfactory words to Sir Percy and his son as they joined her; she wasn’t surprised to see Captain Flera by his side.

The inn’s owner would be the premier Magic Knight instructor for the House of Ravens, and Flera was acting as his assistant. She wondered if the scarred woman and widowed man might find further companionship in one another as time went on.

“I am honored to have had your patronage and ear, Empress. Despite your frightening reputation, you are a woman of restraint, insight, and wisdom. I look forward to your return, and hope to present suitable Magic Knights to show the fruits of your efforts within our kingdom.”

“I look forward to it,” Elinor nodded, leaving the three at the end of the hallway as they descended the stairs. “I still would love one of your trophies at some point, Master Percy.”

“I will consider it next time we meet,” he laughed.

She turned with a smile aimed up at the beaming knight. “I will hold you to that. Push Elira to her limits. She needs to be as strong as possible to keep Princess Castria safe.”

“I will teach her everything I know, Empress!”

Giving a satisfactory nod, she went to the ground level, a slight smirk lifting her lips as Autumn scurried behind them, maintained her servant-girl guise, playing the part so well Elinor wanted to laugh at how skittish and timid the hag portrayed herself. It didn’t take long for another face to snatch her eye, though.

A thoughtful hum resonated in her throat as she saw a somewhat nervous, pretty green-haired woman in her early 40s standing off to the side. “High Lady Trisha Proltis. Here to see me off in place of your mother?”

The puppet heir of the Great House of Proltis gave her a proper curtsy; it seemed her Earth etiquette was spreading rapidly amongst the nobility—it was better than a dab.

“High Lady Julia sends her regrets for her absence, Empress. I hope you have a safe journey back to your empire.”

Elinor couldn’t get the picture of one of the most powerful Tempest in this kingdom—a woman meant to stand as one of its pillars—frantically role-playing as a servant out of her head. When you had everything in your life, you started craving the unusual to spice things up, and she suspected she had her own mother issues and past trauma to thank for that.

“I hope Grandmaster Lilya and you become close friends… The House of Ravens does not forget those who side with her. Have a lovely morning, High Lady Trisha.”

Walking past the nervous Tempest, knowing there was a noose around her neck due to her underground fetish, Elinor hoped that fear would turn to respect as she worked with her Monarch of Alchemy. Perhaps her daughter would have competition for the House’s leadership seat as time went on and Trisha grew more of a backbone.

She caught the well-dressed blind man’s lifted smirk from out of the corner of her eye. He’d probably learned about Julia’s activities in the private female establishment. She didn’t feel like the word ‘brothel’ described it properly. If anything, it was a kink dungeon for the wealthy and noblewomen to release pent-up frustrations around their society.

Nearing the end of the hallway, she paused as Julian, Heather, and Anala gave her a formal greeting. They probably only got inside due to Castria and Heather’s influence with how tight the Paladin and Magic Knight security was around the inn. She was a little surprised not to see Drake beside the redhead.

“Safe journey, Empress,” Heather said, showing a genuine smile that softened Elinor’s heart. The princess deserved better than what her mother gave her, and it said a lot that she wasn’t by her mother’s side in her send-off. “I hope you return soon… Wait, Empress, is that you?”

Elinor chuckled, an enigmatic gleam in her emerald eyes. “You’re the first to have said anything, but yes, Princess. My body is more… fluid than you might believe. I may look a little more different next time you see me. Princess Castria, join your fellow students.”

“Oh. Okay… your earrings are damaged—P-Princess Castria!”

“Yes, Empress! It’s fine, Heather, and remember—first names!”

The former peasant skipped to Princess Heather and Lady Anala’s side, hugging the surprised girls, flustered and unsure if it was appropriate given the setting. Elinor pushed on, leaving the comment about her earring unanswered; she’d address it when home.

She exited through the doorway as the Magic Knights opened it for her, and Elinor’s heart swelled upon entering a sea of cheers—almost all of which were of the higher merchant class or above.

She heard Lilya’s name called amongst the shouts, which made sense. Much of this excitement was aimed at the desert trade princess and former queen. The bronze-skinned woman’s return accompanied hope for a blossoming economy, and the market was king.

High Lord Yeven and High Lord Tarkov stood beside Grace and the large wagon he’d secured. Beside their father, Drake and Alix hovered with the rest of his family. It wasn’t only the fire and ice Great Houses in attendance. Grand Duke Logan and King Virelli were on the ground rather than the air, which seemed to be a great show of respect for the Tempest society—Queen Alivau was not present.

Debro’s flaming red hair and strong grin were aimed at her as she approached amidst the cheers. His wife was a tad more suspicious of her after their private chat about her daughter. Elinor didn’t miss the ring Drake wore around his middle finger; Anala and him were all but publicly engaged, and she doubted the information would leak out anytime soon. Many girls were about to become expert detectives, in search of who had stolen the high-value noble boy off the market.

“Empress!” Debro roared, flashing his teeth and offering her a bow and hearty laugh. “You have certainly caused a stir within the kingdom and caused quite a few controversies. I love the tension! I hope you will return before the First Winter’s Dance of the Academy Waltz.”

“Mmm,” Elinor nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips as she glanced at his oldest daughter and wife. “I will do my best, but I can make no promises. Still, I would hate to miss such delicious drama.”

“Way to butter my biscuit!” the man said, excitement in his eyes. “Karia suspects you’ve helped this bud blossom. I didn’t think you were the type for such fun plots, but you’ve all but confirmed it! I love it.”

Idalia wore an expression that Elinor took as if someone had slapped her across the face—she was still in shock that her little sister was engaged before her when she was eight years older.

From her semi-hidden agitated glances at High Lord Alix, fingers playing with the ring hanging at her bust, it was all too evident that the woman had a crush on the next head of the Great House of Tarnash. The stunning and outgoing redhead had probably had hundreds of men ask for her ring and refused them all. Lineage was important to Tempest, so it didn’t look good for her public image, yet her heart seemed to be set.

Castria…

“Yes, Empress?”

I want you to ship your two Tempest instructors. Alix and Idalia would work well with each other, and wouldn’t it be cute if the Great Houses had a double wedding? Food for thought since Idalia likes Alix and tries to deny her heart.

“H-Huh?! Really?!”

Elinor left her to stew and gossip with her friend group; the teens would be on a crusade after planting that image in their heads. When she met the kingdom’s royalty, Elinor gave a gracious curtsy to the king, showing her respect to their ruler as he greeted her.

“I lament that we weren’t able to spend more time together, Empress. I hope your stay in Kaspir has been enjoyable.”

Tilting her head to the side to glance at the Grand Duke before returning to the king, Elinor hummed. Both of these men could vaporize the entire ri’bot valley to blackened ash, yet politics and the longing of the heart had brought them to her side.

She caught an uncharacteristic lump drop down her Monarch of Alchemy’s throat as the former queen met her husband’s gaze; theoretically, they could still be legally wed by the country’s law. The tense dynamics between various factions and forces within this kingdom wet her tongue with the future drama that would unfold.

“Considering my introduction to your kingdom and my first meeting with your lovely daughter, I would say my visit has been most enjoyable. I feel safe leaving Princess Castria here with the support system I’ve gathered for her. I look forward to our future dealings when next I return… hopefully, as I said, before the First Winter’s Dance of the Academy Waltz. I hate to leave so abruptly, but I must be returning.”

“Of course.”

The Great Houses floated away with a few parting, joyful words for a reunion. King Virelli’s eyes lingered on the woman he longed to hold, and goosebumps ran down his arm as he nodded to his resurrected wife before joining the Great Houses. Logan’s imperceivable stare lingered on Elinor, the last to leave.

“…I understand there is a greater threat to address. Thank you for the forewarning and support, Empress. I am not so sure about your duke’s intentions, though. I will hold my judgment for now.”

Elinor turned a tight smile at the oblivious blind man, her thoughts now directed at the Legendkin. What plots are you involved in that are putting heat on me from someone as powerful as the Grand Duke? We are going to have to have a chat when this is done.

Grace joined them now that they were ready to leave, and Roman made a showy display, holding up his cane before slashing the air and ripping a hole through space. Shock and whispers swept the throng, not expecting such a flashy exit, yet Elinor walked through without a second glance, maintaining her poise.

Her boots sank into the muddy floor of her jungle, and the chatter of its alien creatures welcomed her home. Soon, this lush valley would be the foundation of her growing empire. Autumn’s cloth shoes sank into the muck as she hopped through, a wide grin splitting her lips, free from her dying universe. Now, it was her turn to fulfill her end of the contract.

I’m home.