As dawn filtered through the dense canopy, Camellia emerged from the shimmering waters of the Wixum’s lake, her ruby hair glistening like a beacon in the early morning sun. Making her way further into the jungle, she let the wet season air stretch her senses; it was going to get worse before the dry spell hit.
The heavy atmosphere draped the jungle in a dewy cloak, and the air was thick with the earthy scent of damp vegetation that surged through her lungs. It brought redemption into her tingly human body. She was the family screwup, yet now she had a chance to set things right.
Not wanting to ruin the fragile covering The Empress had given her, she’d left it behind. Droplets clung to her silk top and bottoms, the intricate patterns of her own woven web glistening crimson, pulled tight against her alabaster skin. Her squishy skin and nerve endings were so foreign to her, and she required time to get used to it.
Camellia’s senses flared, mapping the terrain in vivid detail with the sparks of information sent back from the fibers of her flowing hair. Each pulse of the jungle, each rustle and whisper, was cataloged with the precision of a predator—a hunter. The massive trunks of the trees, wide and towering, were familiar, forming a labyrinthine pathway through which she moved with fluid grace.
She sprinted, her lithe form a blur of scarlet and white, her speed beyond any creature beneath the canopy. Yes, she was clumsy and awkward compared to her sisters, but she was still a reborn thélméthra queen candidate.
An odd reverberation fed through The Empress’ Nexus that made her senses of other undead spotty. She was new to the network, so perhaps there was a learning curve or typical activity.
Camellia leaped from one colossal branch to another, her movements silent and precise, disturbing neither leaf nor limb. The jungle was alive with the hum of oversized insects and the distant calls of creatures hidden in the shadows, none of which could match her.
Swiftly ascending the nearby hill, she rose through the branches and slipped out of the canopy to observe what little she could of the eastern half of the valley. She frowned, noticing the many changes to the home she remembered a century ago.
To the east, the trees thinned noticeably, and the silver-colored quen’talrat ruler’s castle was blocked by a new cliffline. The Empress had given her a high view of the valley to show her where her target would be, yet there were quite a few inaccuracies that immediately stole her notice. She quickly realized that if she was going to make the appropriate time, she’d need to get a more precise view.
Memories of her time roaming this jungle, preying on the quen’talrat who attempted to reshape it to be their home, came flooding back… Her inadequacies within her own family flooded back. Her youngest sister spoke quite often about her failings, lulling her gifts away within their nest, spinning her beautiful webs while she was out hunting to prove herself.
I may be far more clumsy and less gifted than you… I know I couldn’t compete with your blooming abilities. However, I am not worthless. The Empress sees worth within my talents…as Mom did… I’ll show you.
A quake ran through her figure at the very thought of her indomitable, beyond graceful mother, who stood as an example to them all to follow: to teach them what it meant to be a queen.
I will live up to your expectations, Mom… I must if The Empress is going to bring you back. I failed our family…I won’t fail you again.
Pausing briefly, Camellia cooly surveyed the scene below—a mass of ri’bot, their numbers far greater than she remembered. These were the Lethix, from what she’d heard amongst the chatter within the Empress’ Nexus on her exit from the lake.
Ri’bot being the dominating presence in the valley was a surprise; although, between the quen’talrat and her family, all of the major predators within the jungle had been hunted into oblivion or consumed. She needed to better understand her new hunting grounds.
It would have been easier to travel through their complex network of tunnels beneath the jungle, yet she wasn’t sure how maintained they were after a century of degradation. She had to multitask on her way; it was something their mother taught them to prioritize.
Closing her eyes, she flexed her fingers, yet it was her hair that branched out, snaking around her frame in a long trail. She left small spikes of compressed silk at the hidden entrances of their many nests still accessible on her path, activating and applying minor repairs. The thin fiber linked to the gateway to her former home nexus.
Pulses of electricity spread from her internal organs, gathered from the atmosphere and earth, to generate a picture of their vast subterranean kingdom. Sadly, she hardly received a response, even after her mending efforts.
With a deep, disappointed breath, her vision opened, and she continued, her path altering to check more entrances and take her toward her next survey destination.
Soon, the white rapids of a giant riverway cutting through the western valley from the north came into view. With practiced ease, Camellia anchored a thin thread between two towering trees on both shores and darted across.
Everything’s changed.
Her hair broke off at points, lingering impulses carrying them into their tunnel access points to further apply minor repairs.
It would take a powerful earthquake to collapse so many of our tunnels, many of which Mother reinforced herself.
Her steps were as light as air, barely disturbing the tension of the silk.
Why can’t I find any trace of my sisters…or mom? Wouldn’t someone have carried their corpses away? The quen’talrat typically display trophies of their prey…so where are my sisters?
The water surged beneath her, a frothing mass of power and chaos. She increased her pace, scaling the cliffs to the northern volcanic zone with ease, and came upon the quen’talrat fortress. Upon reaching her high perch, Camellia gazed across the colossal black citadel.
It was a monolithic structure of unique obsidian stone, mined from the northern mountain range. The material was even hard for their legs to penetrate, which was why the White God had utilized it. The structure loomed against the sky, a testament to the unusual power the White God had obtained that had somehow matched her mother’s strength.
Camellia’s hearts quickened, a mix of awe and trepidation flooding her senses. The last time she’d been inside this structure, she’d been the cause of her whole family’s destruction. That could be redeemed, though. She could be redeemed if she found her sisters and mother. The issue was…where were they?
She turned her attention away from the towering walls to spread her threads out again, drilling into the stone to link up with other silken tunnels buried underneath. These caverns were more stable than the ones on the western side of the valley, giving her more information as she reactivated the network.
Finally! The Drones gathered southeast, without a doubt moving outside the valley to be absorbed by my aunt’s brood. Our chemical traces should abide for many thélméthra generations. We battled below the city, and if we were moved…I should be able to sense the path.
Her illuminated ruby irises slid from the boiling mud pits and colorful bodies of water with their complex bacteria habitats, yet her vision looked beyond them to the burrows underneath.
There are pathways still open to get inside the keep…but the one Mom created to fight the White God is sealed. My scent trail leads down a path to the west…so why can’t I find anyone else from our family?
She knelt down, focusing intently on the nexus her whole family had worked together to maintain and manage. It was challenging to spread her mind out this far, even if it was far more limited than it had once been; in truth, the hardest part was accessing her sisters’ far more complex silk…by design. She could see her youngest sister’s black and white exoskeleton design shimmering with mocking mirth at her attempts to utilize her perfect web.
I found something!
Her fingers twitched as a faint trace of her middle sister touched the activating silk, the sensation sending a shock through her hair to her multiple brains. She looked up, observing the quen’talrat fortress, dominating the landscape, its vast expanse stretching over 800 square kilometers.
Yet, her focus was drawn to the northeast, beyond its formidable walls. The verdant ocean of emerald, jade, and topaz jungle teemed with life, an intricate tapestry of colossal trees. Somewhere within its expanse, her sister had been taken.
Slowly rising to her full human height with a wide grin on her face, she glanced left and right, judging the valley’s area; it had remained roughly the same, 350 kilometers in length and over 200 in width. If she could get a better grasp of her youngest sister’s network, then it would be easy to follow their middle sister’s chemical trail…but this wasn’t what she should be focusing on.
Camellia took a deep breath, the humid air filling her mutated human lungs; she had to redeem herself to her mother and sisters. And that started with serving The Empress well.
Her eyes traced the eastern half of the landscape now that she was at its center point. She took careful note of the massive rivers’ changed courses, new lakes, and changed terrain. The new mesas cutting down the far eastern side of the valley were her destination; they blocked the view of the Roxim lands, where the Silver Queen’s keep should be. The range’s flat tops and steep sides rose out of the far less dense jungle, creating a natural fortress of stone and earth.
Flexing her hands and preparing to further spread her hair in hopes of gaining more intelligence, Camellia’s invisible fingers danced across the intricate web of threads she’d accessed. Each one was a tether to her past and a guide to her present.
She took note of each vibration that fed back to her focused mind. A tinge of sorrow and determination tightened her chest as she relived the last few days of her life, the memories written into the fabric of their home.
Upon once again sensing the faint but unmistakable scent of her middle sister, meticulous and sociable, she perked up, pulling her gaze to the northeast.
Stop getting distracted! she internally chided, returning her attention to the east.
A devious smile lifted her full lips, the anticipation of food wetting them.
She isn’t going anywhere…my prey is.
Hair detaching from the northern network, it was pulled into the earth to hide, responding to the lingering impulses. Camellia leaped from her perch, her powerful legs propelling her down the cliff. The air rushed past her, enjoying the new tingling sensation her long locks left against her scalp; humans were so sensitive that it helped her better connect to her younger sister’s silk.
The jungle transformed beneath her, and the dense and wild western side of the valley gave way to the more spare and open eastern expanse. Her locks shot out to stick to a tree and swing her into the foliage, slipping into it as a shadow.
In her race toward the mesas, she spotted the lingering scars of a great fire in the distant past, the fire’s devastation still evident in the giant charred remains of ancient trees. Yet, from the ashes, new life had sprung.
In the hours that went by, she took note of the plant life and ri’bot, the many packs of broodless toads in the process of moving to the north. She didn’t have time to investigate. However, she did pay close attention to the novel plants, with their vibrant hues and unusual shapes that thrived in the fertile, fire-enriched soil.
Luminescent vines the size of her human thigh wound their way up the blackened trunks, their soft glow illuminating the shadows to reveal adapted wildlife. Massive flowers spread their paralysis pollen into the air. She was naturally unaffected, yet figured it was something to bring to The Empress’ attention. One strange addition was the bioluminescent fungi, which formed intricate patterns on the forest floor, lifting rocks to counter gravity’s pull.
Filing it all away, she eventually reached her destination. The mesas rose before her, their flat tops and steep sides stark against the darkening sky. Due to her observations, she’d made it early, finding a quicker route.
Camellia paused at their base, scanning for signs of movement. Her frown deepened as she spread out her flaming locks, releasing them into the atmosphere to weave in memorizing patterns several meters past its normal length; each filament was a delicate sensor, gathering enduring samples from the air.
Her vision narrowed, head tilting south; the scent of ri’bot, distinct and pungent, clung to the cliff face. A decent-sized group had already scaled the mesas earlier that day.
They were supposed to attack in the dead of night, she internally reasoned, looking beyond her sensory fibers to the twilight. Something is off…
Camellia proceeded further south as a shadow against the moss-covered rocks, following the persistent biological remains to where they’d begun their ascent. Their scent was unnaturally potent to her compared to the other ri’bot—fundamentally different.
Fascinated, her extended hair lowered to spread out across the moss and rock surface. She sampled their sweat and lingering skin residue that had rubbed off. Her silk collected a droplet of dried blood to press against her tongue.
Bitter…and laced with bile I haven’t tasted from ri’bot before… It’s familiar, though? How can I not recall the source? I know it’s not exactly the same, but similar to…something prolific. How can I not remember something I feel is prolific? Well…this is a first.
Potent and energizing, she separated it within her unique queen organ to further digest and analyze. It was too small of a sample size to fully process and connect to whatever her instincts were trying to tell her, but enough to make a probable conclusion.
Their DNA has been manipulated, similar to the quen’talrat. But…it isn’t them. The report about their attack was wrong. Judging by the rate of decay, they attacked just when The Empress was raising me from the dead this morning. Does that mean the witch I’m supposed to keep safe is dead?
Looking up, she soundlessly scaled the cliff in pursuit of her prey; the scent of blood carried on the wind guided her. Cold detachment stilled her hearts at the scene of carnage that met her at the top. The wooden lookout points were stained with the remnants of what should have been a fierce struggle; it should have been a very easily defensible position.
They’re all dead.
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Bending down, her hair wrapped around her frame as her fingers brushed the dried blood, baked in the hot sun. She picked apart its structure, processing the information, and her active mind recreated the battle while taking in all the available data.
They came over the wall in a short break between shifts…impossibly fast for the typical toads I’ve seen. It isn’t impossible for the ri’bot of my age, but the weaklings in the jungle I’ve observed thus far? Not possible. In conclusion, the Xaltan are different…more dangerous.
Her gaze drifted, noting the atypical slaughter.
No bodies… They were dragged and thrown off the cliff to the far south, near the river. Was that to counter The Empress’ ability to bring them back and question them? The chemicals in their blood don’t suggest a battle, either… It is as if they had died without realizing they were under attack… No fear or anxiety.
Her focus shifted to the strange metallic devices she’d seen at The Empress’ camp, most of which had been abandoned or smashed with rocks. However, the unnatural chemicals the items produced did indicate that some had been taken. She could smell some of the explosive powder scattered across the cliff.
Looking over the flat mountain, she confirmed not a single warrior remained. Yet, the further she went, the more there were signs of a struggle. It had been too late by then, and the taste of their blood was potent with fear and hopelessness…such as when her middle sister played with her food.
A lump formed in her throat as she jumped onto a nearby building and scanned the scene as a whole. An uncomfortable realization ebbed into her gut.
Why do parts of this feel…similar to how we hunt? There’s something I’m missing. I don’t smell any Drones…not my sisters or mother… And yet…I keep getting this familiar vibe that tickles my thread. I did much of my hunting in this area when I was young, and I have thread scattered… No, that’s impossible!
Camellia’s thoughts froze, and she brought her fist against the roof of the rehydration storage building the Roxim had made. Crashing through the shaved planks to the bloody water inside, the shallow, tainted liquid sprayed around her. Her gaze was instantly drawn to the gore marring the brown wooden wall.
The image of a bloody hand was impressed on it, an eye with three pupils staring at her with shimmering crimson light. However, Camellia’s attention was fixated on what was wrapped around the hand, as if taunting her.
My silk… My old silk. I couldn’t smell it because…I unconsciously filtered out my own scent. They raided one of my hunting nests and somehow used my silk. How? The way they swiftly scaled the cliff, the silent attack patterns… They’re mimicking thélméthra.
Lips peeling back, she stared at the illuminated eye, her fingers curling into fists as soft laughter rolled out of her throat; the emotion was so exhilarating compared to how she typically felt.
What The Empress said about the Scarlet Hand being led by some powerful entity and some Shade within the earth… Is this a challenge for me? They knew I would be raised from the dead… They left this here for me to find. A trap? Drawing me in? Mimicking a thélméthra, using our silk…and being one are very different things.
Her hair reached out, sliding over the still-wet liquid, processing the bile in the blood and the poisonous force within. Her bright, flaming eyes turned away from the disrupted image, and her locks formed a solid mass. Abruptly, it whipped out, destroying the whole building in a sweeping cyclone of empowered silk.
Xaltan Mysticism is mimicry…by ingesting the remains of abandoned Drone eggs?! I can taste it now; the bile in their blood that will kill them in time. Poisoning yourselves to enhance your frail bodies. Is that it? You desecrated my mother’s legacy. Very well. Let’s see how much of a thélméthra you can mimic.
Approaching the eastern cliff edge, she coldly scanned the jungle floor below. The dense canopy concealed much in the dying twilight. Not a problem for her. Camellia’s keen senses locked onto the Roxim main settlement, hidden within the trees by a large lake, perhaps even larger than the Wixum’s.
She observed the Roxim land. Only their main settlement had been targeted; the northern areas appeared to be untouched. This was calculated, and she couldn’t sense War nearby, yet The Empress’ Nexus had been somewhat spotty over the last several hours in any case; it was something to bring up with someone more accustomed to the empire when she had a chance.
Small creatures scurried about the raided settlement and the scent of death permeated the updraft, although less than she would have imagined. Beyond it, a solitary rocky mountain rose, its imposing form mirrored in the still waters of the lake.
A colossal fissure, likely over twenty kilometers long, split the land to its south, welcoming the lake water and creating a hanging mist that obscured the scar in the valley. This fissure had not been here a century ago, a recent and significant change to the landscape since it occupied the area where the quen’talrat Silver Queen had set up her fortress.
I was supposed to meet with War and Chief Zargoth… I should proceed with caution if they’re expecting me. If either of these powerful, otherworldly entities are pulling the strings, then perhaps there will be a challenge. I doubt they’ll be able to match the quen’talrat generals and officers I’ve fought…but what is this strange sensation in my breast?
An odd thump she hadn’t experienced when alive pulsed through her; she couldn’t put it into words, and it stemmed from what the Xaltan had done to her mother’s brood. How many others had ransacked their nests due to her mistake? It had to be set right. She had to set it right.
After several seconds of observation, Camellia’s thoughts turned to her mission; it hadn’t changed. The presence of these altered ri’bot posed an even more deadly threat than The Empress seemed to realize. First, she had to establish a connection to her new ruler and report.
With a final glance at the bloody scene behind her and expecting the worst, Camellia crawled over the cliff’s sheer drop. Her bare feet effortlessly clung to the stone with her arachnid abilities, and halfway down, she released thread from her toenails, compressing it at her feet, and launched herself towards the lake with a spike of electricity.
As she neared the treeline, her hair spread, more thread breaking her fall to swing to the silent settlement. Blood marked the ground once more, but there were clear tracks this time. Maintaining her stealth Feats, she was a shadow, following the path of a huge number of ri’bot that had been relocated southwest.
Camellia redirected her attention the moment she detected the trace remains of Death Energy: War’s energy. Finding her elbow behind her back, she cast her eyes about, noting how little damage had been done to the infrastructure itself, yet more bloody hands and eyes permeated the area, as if watching her.
War was taken by the Xaltan… How? The Empress should have been aware of any changes or deaths when it came to her forces, yet no one has been sent after me to change my orders.
She looked west with a widening smile, where she felt hidden movement before returning to the unpopulated zone.
It is a trap for me. How fun! The Roxim’s main settlement has been taken back to the Xaltan’s territory. They knew I would be coming. Yet, besides those creeping about…I sense only one ri’bot left nearby as my bait. How sloppy. By ri’bot standards, they’re very stealthy...laughable to me, and my stealth is scoffed at by my sisters. Their stealth is sad, even by Drone standards… They fail.
Her senses sharpened as she turned toward the largest building near the lake; the tainted scent in the ri’bot blood was thick in that direction, taunting her. Fingernails biting into her palm, she resisted the urge to break her stealth and allow them to converge on her to preemptively spring the trap. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, though, and oddly, it smelled like a Roxim’s blood rather than the Xaltan she’d been tracking.
An enemy, traitor, or messenger, as many races typically have…which will it be?
Camellia moved with total silence, her stealthy approach making her invisible to the frightening jungle animals creeping into the abandoned buildings. Rather than engaging the bait and tainted Roxim, she left a thread to keep her notified of the toad’s actions and backtracked to War’s most recent path.
She slowed upon finding the human female’s scent she’d been looking for by the tree line; the Xaltan assassins maintained their distance, waiting for her to reveal herself or some other action because they most certainly couldn’t find her.
Upon further investigation, Camellia discovered a covered tunnel a short distance into the jungle: a shelter, hiding some of the young. Hundreds of thousands of Camellia’s silken locks extended, her hair sinking into the dirt. She silently injected her thread, using it to burrow and create a perfect hole while quietly reinforcing the other side.
As if a phantom, within seconds, she had opened it up and crept inside, tasting the scents of a few dozen young ri’bot and hundreds of tadpoles within. She went further in and found her target; it couldn’t be a coincidence these ones survived undetected.
Her sudden appearance spooked the young ri’bot and a human witch, who was trying to carve a symbol into the hard rock with little effect. Revealing herself, the toad kids shrank back, shaking and holding up knives, and the witch looked up, startled, her eyes wide with fear and desperation.
“Who are you?” the living witch demanded, her voice trembling. “Wait…are you human?”
Camellia stepped forward, her movements fluid and graceful yet filled with an underlying purpose; this was the real trap.
“I am Camellia, servant of Empress Elinor. I seem to have come too late… Come, you must reconnect us with The Empress. Hmm.”
“What’s wrong?!” the girl choked, gesturing to a bunch of pots. “These are all the Roxim’s tadpole children, uh…and these Roxim teens are helping me… M-Ms. Camellia? War told me something was happening on the cliff and that I should hide in here…”
Her lips tightened while looking up, smelling unnatural composites to anything she’d experienced buried throughout the cavern; they’d been taken from the mesas.
“Shh… They were here before you arrived…wrapped in my silk. Crafty…”
“What?”
A pulse ran through one of her extended hairs, warning of movement outside; her instincts told her it was a distraction. They were springing the trap and knew where she was now that she’d revealed herself. She had to thank her middle sister for always playing her troublesome games and setting traps for her to get tangled in.
Stepping closer, the witch stiffened as Camellia’s hair thickened. She pulled her in, wrapping them inside a cocoon. Just as it locked into place, shockwaves erupted all around her, immediately sending a surge of information through her sensitive threads that overloaded her nervous system. Part of her thickened shell was destroyed, which was a challenging accomplishment for even quen’talrat Elite Hunters.
“W-Was that a bomb?! Did they just blow up the tunnel? Where did they get bombs?!” Vision spinning, the next thing Camellia saw was the frantic witch hugging her tight and trembling as her mind cleared. “I…I can’t breathe!”
Tricky. Tricky. Tricky little toads. No, this had to be, in part, planned by a creature with a more intimate understanding of our species. A trap like this…laid for a thélméthra? Bold.
Camellia internally chuckled, blinking away the spots across her cut senses. I’ll have to adapt to that shockwave trick, but do not think it is so easy to escape me. You only use Drones…and I am no Drone.
Quickly recovering, Camellia instantly discarded her ruined outer silk layer. Her thread branched out, launching her upward with the witch. The moment she burst out of the collapsed tunnel, her senses expanded once more, and she watched in slow motion as the black-skinned ri’bot nearby slipped into the shadows, retreating.
Camellia chuckled, releasing the girl to collapse against the ground. Her hair fanned out, shooting into the soil as clumps of dirt rained around them with noxious fumes. Thread enclosed the panicking girl’s face, filtering in clean streams of air to counteract the toxic gas left behind. This underground area was more connected to her nest within their underground empire.
Long buried, partially damaged silk writhed beneath the land as she took control over her former network, cutting the weakest links and reinforcing needed nexus points.
Her wide field of vision branched out within a mile radius, her ruby eyes everywhere, looking at everything: ten black-skinned Xaltan, the mark of the Scarlet Hand burning on their foreheads, came into view.
I see you. I see all of you.
“They killed all of those…help!” the human screamed as the web closed in and embraced her in a protective shell.
Camellia’s senses sharpened—focused—and she felt the Symphony of the Hunt resonate within her breast, each beat a reminder of her purpose.
Her hair, a crimson cascade of threads, fanned out from the soil, establishing another protective dome around the human witch. Dozens of thrown objects shot out of the sky from the cliff. Explosions echoed around them as they detonated, blowing apart much of her shell.
Yet, the heat hardly affected her since she was accustomed to quen’talrat flames, and it was easy to deactivate her nerves near the blast radius to escape the mind-blasting rhythms the shockwaves created. Her inner web absorbed the shockwaves, shielding the girl from harm and making Camellia laugh.
You underestimate me, but congratulations on depleting half my silk reserves with this trap.
Camellia's ruby eyes glowed with a fierce delight. She felt every vibration, every movement within her web. They were retreating into the shadows, but that was her domain.
With fluid grace, Camellia shot into the night, her threads trailing behind her as she pursued the Xaltan. Her movements were a blur, a streak of red against the green and brown of the jungle as night fell. She launched from tree to tree with predatory stealth, able to move in any direction.
The Xaltan were surprisingly fast compared to those she’d seen in the jungle—maybe they could rival their typical ancestors a century ago—but that was laughable to her. One by one, she closed in on her prey.
The first Xaltan barely had time to react as she descended upon him, her threads wrapping around his limbs and pinning him to the ground. His eyes widened in fear as Camellia loomed over him, her expression glee-filled and unforgiving.
“You thought you could match the real thing with Drones?” she giggled, her human figure expanding to her true, five-meter-tall arachnid form. “I think I’m beginning to understand why my middle sister loves giving her food so many chances to escape; you’re so funny!”
With a swift motion, she consumed half his body, using his sacrifice to complete her analysis and leaving the rest for the jungle. She had nine more to bind and question; there were more to catch.
Her massive form shrunk again, threads relayed information back to her, guiding her to the next target. The jungle became her hunting ground again, every tree, every shadow a part of her domain.
The second Xaltan attempted to fight back against the plucking threads of darkness because he most certainly couldn’t spot her. The thread-like shadows he fought sliced through the air and bound him in place. The fear in his eyes mirrored that of the first, clearly surprised their well-crafted ambush had failed.
Camellia's mind raced as she moved from target to target, each capture fueling her thumping hearts to feast on their bones: she was patient, though. The network of threads she had established long ago came alive under her command, an extension of her will. The Xaltan had tempted her in her own playground, and they would pay for their audacity.
As she captured the last of the ten Xaltan, long before they reached the river divide, Camellia felt a sense of satisfaction. Slinging them over her shoulder, one by one, their futile struggles against their silken restraints only served to brighten her mood.
She returned to the witch, still cocooned in the protective shell of her threads, trembling but unharmed. On a brighter note, she appeared to have mostly calmed down. The witch looked up at Camellia with wide eyes, a mixture of awe and fear in her gaze.
“Y-You’re amazing! Umm…these guys killed all of their babies… How did they overpower the Roxim so easily? Was I…bait?”
Camellia’s expression softened slightly as she regarded the confused girl. “It was lucky that you were the bait, my little insect. Sadly for them, they didn’t know whose web they were playing in…or did they? I’m still debating it…”
The witch nodded, her fear slowly giving way to anger. “Right. Uh, we need to establish a connection back to The Empress to inform her, right? Is War nearby?”
Camellia shook her head, crossing her arms and glancing south. She felt the tainted Roxim in the big house begin making his way toward them. She lashed out with her hidden web nearby, binding him in place; there would be time to collect him shortly.
“I’m a new member of the Royal Court within the empire, so I am not accustomed to many things. I cannot sense any undead nearby. You’ll have to ask The Empress. How soon can you get it ready?”
The girl’s attitude flipped at her statement, fear dissipating as she jogged toward the abandoned settlement, showing her trust.
“You’re in the Royal Court?! Oh, okay. Umm. If they didn’t take the extra supplies we brought, then I should be able to use a few of these bastards as fuel to reach The Empress without an amplifier—well, their life would be the amplifier. It would only last for several minutes, but that should be enough time, right?”
“Great! Let’s do that then…”
The girl paused and glanced back, her worry returning. “What about Rylee and my friends—The Empress sent two Circles here to set everything up. I was left here to maintain this one while they worked on more stuff in the caves and in the jungle.”
Camellia looked back the way she’d come. “I haven’t smelled any trace of a human beside you.”
“Huh? That’s…weird. Yeah, we should report this!”
The witch rushed off and gathered the necessary tools while Camellia maintained her grip over the prisoners, keeping a watchful eye out for anyone else. She searched around the settlement with her webs, but it was as if the witches had never existed, and now that she thought about it, it was strange it had been so hard to find this witch girl.
This couldn’t be the end of their trap, but she was sure this witch girl was genuine. She could patiently wait for their next move; after all, thélméthra were very patient predators.
As the witch began the ritual to reconnect with the Witch Network, Camellia’s thoughts turned to the symbol of the red hand with the tri-pupiled eye; the girl had smeared all of the ones looking at them around the camp.
The connection to the mutated ri’bot was clearly the Scarlet Hand, but the purpose remained shrouded in mystery. In any case, The Empress would have a direction for her.
Camellia’s glowing eyes drifted to the hardened warriors, no less than quaking children under her watchful gaze. Hopefully, her order was one that would allow her to satiate her sudden hunger…because her stomach was finished gnawing on the bones of her first victim, and she could use them to rebuild her shrunken silk gland.