The Trial: Journey's End
Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
Chapter 34: Problems Great & Greater
...Menowa...
Nothing ever stopped the reports. In fire, there were reports. In flood, there were reports. In peace and war, there were reports. This did not change except to increase the number of reports, when it came to having a golem using, warmongering, beastman empire at your gates. Through magic, paper, light and smoke, all were employed to pass messages quickly from the most remote outposts to the capital city to the Ard Rhi's own hands.
Which is why Ard Rhi Mu'Fidelius was fuming as he read the information relayed to him. "She... left."
"What's that, husband?" The Ard Rhigan asked as she sat at her desk across from his in their private office. She looked up at his brown eyes, and felt her heart stir as she caught his expression. The stack of documents to his left was a point of pride and she let her gaze drift proudly to them before meeting his eyes again. 'Nobody works harder for his people, than my mate, finest of our kings... he will find a way to save us.'
"I said, 'she left.'" He answered his wife. He didn't need to explain, her mouth opened and closed a few times.
"What do you mean 'she left,' she just walked away?" The Ard Rhigan asked with a sharp bite of anger in her voice, the quill broke in her fingers as she clenched her fist. She swore as ink splattered over one of her documents.
'Ah, there's the fire that made me take Mu'Lita and make her my high queen.' He thought to himself, but kept his face calm. "From what this says, she... got on an undead horse with a massive minotaur warrior, and rode away after a battle."
"Well, the beastman raiders are terrifying, is it any surprise a human would run away before fighting them?" She asked as she considered the matter. "We'll hunt her down, put her down, and 'say' she died in the fighting. Of course we'll treat the body with honors but... how hard can it be to find a human out here, especially one running and terrified? Who knows, she might even run into Devor territory by accident and the problem will be solved just as well." Mu'Lita replied with somewhat greater ease in her voice as she contemplated the alternate ways things could improve.
So though she began to huff with mild laughter, she quickly stopped when she saw his fingers had not relaxed.
"No, the raiders were wiped out. The warriors became berserkers, the Devor were killed off, and she rode off... 'to' Devor territory after the captives. The warrior who went with her was her guide, a native of the region." Mu'Fidelius explained with his fingers tapping on the document as if to beat the words to punish them for saying what they did. They remained unmoved by the striking of his finger to the ink, and he stared at his wife and co-ruler.
"Any chance of apprehending her?" Mu'Lita asked with a low growl in her throat.
"If she can survive on Devor land, 'and' rescue the prisoners, what do you think?" Mu'Fidelius asked as he held the report over a candle and burned it, before snatching fresh paper and writing out another note.
"What are you doing?" His wife asked as she saw the rapidity with which he wrote.
"Sending a note to be routed east, we need all instructions burned, and anyone who knew what the instructions were, killed. We need deniability. If she does come back, I want it heard only that she ran away after a surprise raid and that we never intended to do any harm to her, she ran while the soldiers were fighting to protect her, that'll be the story, and... that'll be what we stick with." Mu'Fidelius said with a hint of desperation in his tone, but more telling was the shaking when he reached for the rope to ring the bell that would call a messenger.
A moment later a young minotaur boy appeared and knelt before the Ard Rhi. "Send this, then burn it." He said as he folded the paper and handed it over.
"Majesty." The page replied, and swiftly exited the room, leaving a gloom over the private office of the rulers of the Minotaur Kingdom.
...Nazarick...
"What are you doing?" Demiurge asked as he entered the lab and found Vanysa standing next to a wailing victim. "And why didn't you invite me for the fun?" He approached and stood beside her.
She set down the little crystals she was working with, "Trying something new." Her voice and eyes were clear as day, the beautiful storm gray that flashed like lightning when she was in orgasmic bliss.
"New 'how'?" Demiurge asked, and as the screaming interrupted him, the archdevil looked over to the specimen who lay naked, spreadeagle on the table and chained tight, "Be silent." he said, and the mouth of the man snapped shut, though pain was etched over his face.
"I was thinking of the item that slowed mana flow so that Neia wouldn't be in so much pain anymore when she had an episode. To extract it, I had this one drain some of his mana, but I got to thinking, what if we could 'force it' out, pull it like a bucket draws water from a well?" She held up a bloody crystal, "I shoved some of these into those holes I cut in his body, but encased them in some drain spell variations. Drain touch, drain mana, drain life, to see what would work. If it does, then even though these crystals don't hold much, we can use them to create a siphon and storage item. That might help keep her mana constantly too low for a prophecy to strike at all." Vanysa grinned wildly and touched her finger to the bloody hole in the subject's thigh, she dug her talon in and giggled down at him as he strained.
"In case you're wondering... he's from Yaksun. Neuronist got bored with him, he just has no singing voice, so... I don't blame her." The demoness said as her wings flapped with amusement.
Demiurge looked down at the human who was desperately looking around him in pain and confusion. "Doing something for Nazarick is one thing, doing something for a mere human is another. Especially if we're just going to get her killed, I'm very much looking forward to see what kind of undead we can create with her. With the emergence of this new skill, imagine being able to always know what lies ahead, days, centuries, tens of thousands of years, no doubt Lord Ainz knew she would develop this skill, and the Trial is just the way to have her die at peak loyalty so nothing will bar our ability to use her after death." He absently poked a claw into the hole in the man's guts and pinched his intestine, forcing him to spasm and rattle the chains that held him fast.
Vanysa shook her head, "No, I don't think so, in fact... he expressly ordered me to protect her life at all costs, even my own, outside of the trial. He wouldn't do that if she was just going to be sacrificed in it."
Demiurge dragged his sharp claw over the man's flesh, tearing it open casually as he went and sat down at his work desk. "I see, this bears rethinking. If only..." He looked up at the ceiling and groaned, "If only I could measure up to him, to see the peak of his brilliance!"
Vanysa shook her head, "Nobody admires you more than I, my wonderful music maker..." She strode across the room to where Demiurge sat with his fingers tapping anxiously on the desk, her long black hair bounced against her golden skin and off her black wings, and she laid a hand down on his, her talons digging in sharply to him, and as she did so, she leaned in close to his ear, "but you mustn't wear yourself to the bone with anxiety over this. He will not leave you. He does not leave those he values."
Demiurge slammed his other fist down and snarled, "Lord Ulbert left! My very creator abandoned me! Why else would he have done so unless I was displeasing to him?! If I disappointed even the one who made me... how can I ever hope to properly serve the one over him?"
Vanysa's eyes fluttered briefly, and she moved behind him, wrapping her slender golden arms around his front as he stared down at the desk.
"By doing your best, that's all he asks. Remember, I was just a peasant girl, a nothing that was less than nothing, he didn't even take the only thing I had to offer him, not even to throw that weak flesh to you for experimentation. But what did he do for me, because I was loyal to him beyond the brink of death?" Vanysa whispered into his ear, nibbling at the lobe as she sought to comfort the orphaned archdevil.
"Yes, you're right, you became your elevated self... useful, as well as faithful." Demiurge responded slowly and he began to look up as his brief moroseness began to pass.
"Right, he responds to loyalty, with loyalty. Mistakes are just part of learning, and you are the finest of his many fine servants. Work hard, but not with despair. He doesn't wish misery for the children of his friends, and that misery may itself make him unhappy." The demoness said, feeling the life starting to come back into her colleague.
She grinned lasciviously... "Now... if you've still got frustration to let out, well, it'll take awhile before that one is done over there."
"You know me very well." Demiurge remarked as he grabbed her arm and pulled her over the desk.
"Damn right I do." She giggled as she felt his claws rake over her, sighing in bliss as she offered herself up to her savage lover.
...Crescent Lake...
Entoma stayed with her all night long, mostly talking of other things, until dawn came and she pointed to the manuscript on the table. "Thank you for staying with me. Go ahead and take that back with you, it's still a good work, even if I don't... you know, I just want to pretend it never happened."
Entoma stood, put on her bug mask, touched her friend on the shoulder, and then quietly took up the writing off the table and left. When she was gone, Bertra went to the door of her shop, ensured the 'closed' sign was in place, that it was locked, and then went to bed. She had no idea how long she slept, but when she woke up, the sun was high in the sky again. She made herself something small to eat, drank, bathed, and returned to bed again. So it was for the next few days, until she forced herself to go downstairs and remove the 'closed' sign from her store and open the doors again.
She got behind the counter, ran through a quick tally of sales from the last day she was open, a task she'd put off before, she counted the coins and looked up to smile when she heard the bell to her ornate door with those winding and twisting branches carved over the front, from which books sprang like leaves, a design she liked a great deal.
Her smile went from genuine, to fragmented and forced, her breath quickened and her heartbeat faster. "Hi... Lovien. How are you?" She asked him politely.
He tried and failed to meet her eyes as he stepped closer to the counter. "Fine ah, sorry about before. I don't know what I was thinking, I was drunk, it's been a long time since I'd had anything to drink... or anyone to drink with, and I thought..."
Bertra forced her smile to hold more warmth than she thought, and she called upon her political skill to 'act the part', waving her hand dismissively, "Obviously it's fine, forget about it, I was drunk and I..." She could hardly believe her own words as they came out of her mouth, her eyes closed so she didn't have to see him as she kept the smile plastered on her face, and forgiveness she didn't really feel poured out as she pretended everything was fine.
"I've got things to do, so why don't you go ahead and browse the shop, see if there's anything you like." She tossed her hand off in the direction of the books. "I've got to catch up on my inventory for now, so you'll excuse me?"
She went back to counting coins and scribbling annotations for what she'd been paid for each sale. He followed her suggestion, and she ignored him as much as she could, though part of her ached to make him pay, the possibility of being exposed for who she was if she went too far, or was too obvious... the prospect of having to say 'why' she'd attacked him, the prospect of even acknowledging it was all too unpleasant.
'Just pretend it didn't happen, he's such a nice guy, and he's been through a lot, maybe it was just a big misunderstanding... maybe... if I just pretend it didn't happen, things can be normal again.' She thought to herself, and snapped out of her reverie when he put his book down on the counter. The sound of it striking the wood almost made her jump out of her skin for a moment, though he hadn't slapped it down hard.
"This one." He said, placing a hand on the cover, a story of the war as told through the eyes of one of Neia's earliest followers in Hoburns, who remained in service until the fall of Kami Miyako.
"Fine." She said as calmly as she could, and she forced her hand to remain still as he put the seven copper coins into her palm.
He looked like he wanted to say something, silence hung between them like a bad odor.
"Do I come back to work on the manuscript tonight?" He finally asked.
"No need." She said hastily and shook her head in denial, "I've already sent it off, everything is fine." She insisted, "So, I guess you don't need to waste your time coming by in the evening anymore."
"Oh but... ah, can I anyway? I'll bring dinner to celebrate the finish..." He suggested hesitantly, but flashed that winning smile at her. She glanced at the mutilated ear he still had, and as a rush of guilt ran over her, she quietly nodded.
'It was nothing, we just got carried away... that's all.' Bertra told herself as she accepted his request. He kept his smile on his face all the way out of the store.
As he left, Bertra forced her own smile to remain in place, though when he was gone, the warmth of her store, which had vanished when he entered, had not returned with his renewed absence.
'He apologized, I got what I wanted, I should give him another chance... right? I mean I would have been willing if I hadn't seen... ah what a mess' She thought, then added, 'I should have let Entoma eat him.'
...Highway of Tears...
Their rest at the waters was very, very brief. "Sleep." She said, the blood crusting on her face had chipped a bit, but if she cared about the filth or the smell, she gave no sign. Instead, she walked with eyes as dark as the night which engulfed them, back and forth over the length and breadth of the piled up sleeping minotaurs. They'd curled up close to one another, using each other's bodies as pillows and sharing comfort and warmth. Mu'Ulm, however, and Mu'Trieu, had not joined them.
"You don't sleep?" Mu'Ulm remarked.
"I don't need to. 'Endurance of Unlife' gives me undead endurance, the undead do not sleep, they do not tire, they do not rest. It is... useful." She said in the hollow, empty voice of a monster as she held his brown eyes in the void that only small red dots within, illuminated.
"Is that a common martial art for humans to develop?" He asked with the professional interest of a warrior, doing his best not to give way to the sense of dread that creeped up his spine as he looked down at her.
"No... I am a Black Paladin... the only one in the world, until recently. But the only one to have this, as far as I know. My lord is an undead god, and as his Paladin, my martial arts are all based on my faith in him." She responded, looking high up at her second in command.
"Going to prison, going to war, going to trial, ready to go hang... is there any length you won't go to?" Mu'Ulm scratched under his jaw in uncomfortable curiosity.
"I don't know. He's never found something that made me beg for him to rescind an order or made me disobey. If he does, I'll let you know." Neia answered, before turning when she felt a slight tug at her back, where she saw the little minotaur girl clinging.
"Yes, little one?" She asked and looked down at the tiny minotaur.
Mu'Trieu clung tight to Neia's cloak. "I can't sleep. I want a story."
Neia pursed her lips tight... "I'm sorry but... I have to keep watch. It's to keep you safe." She reached down and stroked the little minotaur snout.
Her grip tightened. "Story!" She insisted in the way only little girls could, and Neia's lethal heart softened a bit.
"Go ahead." Mu'Ulm suggested with a deep chuckle in his gut, "I'll keep watch."
"Alright..." Neia said and reached down to take Mu'Trieu's little hand, the tiny fingers curled around the bloodstained skin of the Demon of the West, and she led Neia near to where a group of child minotaurs lay curled in the center of a group of adults.
Neia sat down cross legged and let the little girl into her lap.
"Story!" The girl demanded again.
Neia smiled slightly, and said, "Once upon a time, there was a girl, she liked a boy, but... he didn't like her, because even though she was sweet, she looked scary."
"I don't think I like this story..." Mu'Trieu began, and Neia patted her head.
"Just be patient, if you don't like it when I'm done, I'll tell you another." The Black Paladin replied gently.
She heard the little girl huff in reluctant acceptance, and continued. "That was the pattern of her life, all through childhood, all through her early years, even when a monster came and destroyed her country, the only thing to change was how often she had to fight. But then after lots of struggle, and hardship, she met a girl. Someone strong, kind, wiser than herself, who looked into her eyes without fear, and she wasn't alone after that. She was happy, even in difficult times, but..." Neia went on and on, until she felt the little girl's body go slack and fall against Neia's bloodstained armor.
She wrapped her arms around the little minotaur, and slowly stood up, then put her down in the middle with the other children.
She watched the little chest rise and fall as Mu'Trieu breathed and rolled into a curled up posture against someone else.
"Maybe... I can do this." Neia said to herself and looked up to the sky where the stars looked back at her. "Please... father... god... I don't want to die. I want to hold my children... I want to 'have' children... if you can find a way to forgive me for putting you in the position where I have to endure all this, and for my selfish request... if there is some way that justice can be done... and I can still have this little taste of a real life... I beg you, let that be what happens. But if you cannot take this cup from me, then... help me to have the courage to drink it bravely to the last drop, so I don't shame you or my family by fear in my final hour."
The stars were silent but two pairs of eyes were watching as she said her prayer and clutched the pendant around her neck as the pain struck again and a few words she couldn't remember and no one could hear, poured out of her again.
She then approached Mu'Ulm, and pointed to the place where the others slept, "Get some rest, I've got it from here."
"Uh huh... you... take care of yourself, alright?" Mu'Ulm said reluctantly, and moved over to where others were snoring loudly, and quickly fell unconscious himself.
Back in Nazarick, two pairs of eyes were watching until then, who saw the void in her eyes and the red points that consumed her vibrant blue as if they didn't exist. They watched her lips move as she held her eyes up to the sky, like she knew she was being watched by heaven's ruler... and the mirror of remote viewing cut off. Albedo touched Ainz's shoulder with one hand, and put another under his chin to tilt his gaze up to her, it was a bold gesture, but one that lacked the usual fire, she met his red points with golden shining eyes, "I will not let them kill her. I promise you, Lord Ainz." She said, and walked out without another word to go and prepare herself for the following day of the trial.
