A few days after her time with Maeli, Latchi got the opportunity to put her to the first test. The sun was setting at the crossroads north of the Mobile Forrest. And as the sun set, a priest lay dying. Blood fountained from the young man's mouth with Latchi's sword in his guts. She looked down at the young man, the follower of Black Justice, the death worshipper. He looked up at her from on his back, his hand over his stomach. He turned his head to the right, spat blood, then turned his head up to look at her again. He cracked a smile.
It was weak, but it was there. He had sandy hair and a freckled face, his skin was deeply tanned, so much so that his many freckles almost blended in, only with the light of the setting sun resting on him, was the contrast noticeable.
Latchi looked nearby, two of her followers would never rise again. The priest they'd put down, had not gone quietly. Her blue hair swayed when she shook her head, and her dark eyes smoldered with anger. "Damn you." She spat.
He managed a snort and began to cough out words, "You attack me… and damn me for my defence?"
"No…" Latchi Pindar'gon shook her head at him. Her sword shook in her hand. "I damn you four times. Damn you for living. Damn you for coming here. Damn you for killing my people. Damn you for trying to kill my culture. Damn you for all of those things."
Faint groans told her that one more of her people wouldn't make it if the others could not find the right herbs and find them fast. She snarled down at the priest, his dark armor had a white mark of a closed fist. "Your mark, what is it?" She asked.
"Resistance to fate." He whispered in a weakening voice, he didn't have long, the gut wound was fatal, "I told… told my father I w… I wasn't going to have his life. I w… was going to move beyond a villager's life. F-Fight my fate to work the fields… hit me, and… I hit him, I left. I f-fought my fate. I won…"
"I suppose you did." Latchi replied calmly. A single straight thrust of sword into his neck, and moments later he was gone… mercifully and without further pain. His eyes lost their light and that was all.
Latchi turned to her followers who still remained with her. "Strip his body, throw it into the water where it will get swept out to sea." When the body was naked and the armor was cast aside, she approached to get a better look at it. She crouched and laid a hand on it. "Anything interesting?" One of her soldiers asked her from a foot behind her, most would not come close to the armor if they didn't have to.
"The usual. It's a custom job, no wonder he was so strong, the symbol is enchanted, only one enchantment sure… but every priest we've encountered has had at least one. Do you know what that means?" Latchi asked without looking over her shoulder. She traced her hand over the smooth black piece, this one was one solid piece of shaped metal with leather and silk affixed to the interior for comfort. Latchi's frown deepened on her face.
"No… my lady. I'm sorry, but I don't." He admitted candidly.
She shrugged it off. "Right, no of course you wouldn't, but think about it and you'll understand. How many pieces of enchanted equipment have you seen in your whole life?"
"Excluding what you carry? A dozen, maybe." He replied unhappily, the light in his eyes going on.
"Right. This…" She gestured behind her to where the splash said that the body had been dumped, "was nothing but a common villager, assuming he didn't lie to us with his final breath. That's it, and yet he wore armor that enchanted his strength to several times greater than yourselves. If you hadn't literally caught him with his pants down taking a shit, we might be burying two more." Latchi's jaw went tight. "It means we're up against a people who can enchant so much equipment that they can give it to common religious figures who they know have a low survivability, thankfully it's just loners coming this way for now. But the thing is… they keep coming. Sooner or later they'll start sending escorts, they'll start missing people. It's only a matter of time."
"A-And then?" Her subordinate asked, his hand touched the hilt of his sword and clenched it tight.
"Then we need the help of the gods." Latchi whispered so softly that he didn't hear it.
"Ma'am." He asked, and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Then we fight harder, all of us, for everything, our past, present, and future, or we will disappear like we never were." Latchi answered without ceasing her tracing of fingers delicately over the smooth armor.
"We must fight our fate… like the bearer of this armor, only without the grim death in the end." She pushed herself up from her crouched position.
"Warp the enchantment, then take the armor and melt it down and sell it. Bury our dead, and let's get going." Latchi gave the orders quickly and pocketed the coins that had been presented to her from those who stripped him down.
"Now, let's go, we've got an alibi to establish." Latchi replied and they made their way back to the little river village where Maeli lived.
Maeli lived two lives after her day with Latchi. She distanced herself from her neighbors, she didn't attend their religious ceremonies. Not the blessing of the fields, nor did she go with the village women who would come together to clean the public streets.
They noticed her absence far more than they ever noticed her presence in the past, and the gossip began.
It was after that, that she disappeared with her sister briefly, bearing her to a small trading area. Her heart pounding in her chest on the morning of her arrival, the area was neatly organized. 'I give them that at least, the Newcomers order everything for ease of use.' She mused and found the stall she wanted in no time. She thrust out her coins and barely kept back the words, "I need death worshipper clothing!" They took issue with such depictions, at least from Ongeku. Instead she said, "I need clothing to show my support for the god of death."
The merchant, a bright faced wood elf woman, smiled broadly, joyfully even, when she heard Maeli's request. Around her sat stacks of different types of clothing, mostly brightly colored, even garish to Maeli's eyes. The slender hand of the young elven woman laid her hand on a stack of bright greens and blues. "Well, these are from the Aiwenor province in the far east, they've become popular as the Slaughterlands have begun to fill in and trade links between east and west have grown stronger. But I don't really think that's what you want." The corners of the woman's mouth turned up slightly and she turned her back to Maeli and her little sister.
She went to a set of crates that formed a kind of divide around her shop, like improvised walls, and opened up one neatly from the interior facing her stall. She reached in, and pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt, very practical apparel, but emblazoned on the front was the symbol of the Sorcerous Empire. "Nothing says 'empire citizen' like this." She winked and laid it with such reverence before Maeli at the counter that it might have been an object of religious relevance.
'To her, it no doubt is.' Maeli reflected, she recalled a traveler who mentioned that some ethnicities of the Empire were devoted to their god with an almost unnatural reverence. Beyond mere devotion. 'This must be one of those.' Maeli reflected and waited while the woman unfolded the garment. She held it up and pressed it with both hands against Maeli's shoulders so that it was as if it were being worn. "Yes, this will fit. Would you like it enchanted?"
Maeli's jaw dropped. "What?"
"I asked if you'd like it enchanted." The wood elf woman folded the garment again and laid it down while she reached for the pants to make the same quick measure.
"You can do that?!" Maeli felt her voice go an octave higher, and the elven woman snickered a little bit.
"Yes, now this isn't anything powerful, nothing advanced this is the most basic stuff, it just reacts to your natural mana to power it, draining a little for a very simple enchant, and only one at that. For example I can use some materials to make it resistant to tears, but not to dirt or filth. Or I can make it resistant to dirt or filth, but not to tears. It's a nice little time saver." The elven shopkeeper turned around again and reaching behind her back, tapped a small emblem near the base of her shirt. "I hate cleaning, washing clothes is so tiresome, but I don't mind mending. So I enchant mine against filth, it's nice not having to spend hours cleaning clothing and using up precious water on something like that."
Maeli's head spun. She stared open-mouthed until she felt the squeeze on her hand from her little sister.
"Uh, how-how much?" Maeli stammered. "For the cleaning enchant, I mean."
"I normally charge two silvers, but since you're a local convert, and this one is adorable…" She bent over and tapped the little girl's nose with the tip of her finger, "I'll make it one silver."
Maeli frowned. "I have only some coppers, enough for clothing."
The merchant woman paused at that and tapped her chin, "I'll tell you what… I'm in a really good mood today, sooooo… I should be getting a shipment of some other stuff soon, you unload the cart and help me around the stall for the day, and I'll enchant the clothing for you for free. I'll even do a set for this little imp."
The woman's bright smile drew one in turn from Maeli's little sister, who stared up at the twitching elven ears in fascination.
"Deal." Maeli said sharply. "I'm Maeli, this is Melin, I just call her 'Little Me' though, most of the time."
The merchant woman gave a half bow, "Mila. Nice to meet you."
By the time the sun set, after a few hours of taking coins and unloading crates, the three were chatting like old friends, and the elven woman went to work, mixing a few unfamiliar materials with a mortar and pestle, and a few seconds after applying it to the dark sets of clothing, the faint glow of a fresh enchantment emerged.
The elven woman wiped the nonexistent sweat from her brow, "Whew, you were my first customers of the day, and it looks like you're my last ones too." She stacked the two sets on top of one another, "That'll be twenty coppers for both sets, enchantment was on the house. I did a cleaning enchant for both of you, so that takes care of that. And I wish you nothing but the best." She cracked her knuckles, put one hand under the stack and one over, and thrust them proudly toward Maeli, who almost jerked her hand away, before slowly reaching out to take them.
"Th-Thank you. That was generous…" Maeli said, casting her eyes demurely down.
"It's the will of our lord. Go and bear his justice proudly." Mila said sincerely and rendered a crisp gesture that was so smoothly executed it must have been done many times, a closed fist over her heart, and she bowed her head sincerely.
"Ah, yes, yes I will." Maeli whispered shyly and departed with her sister in tow.
When they returned to their home with what Maeli thought of as her 'disguise' she found Latchi and her people hiding in her home. When the behemoth of a woman explained what they'd done, without the least bit of hesitation, Maeli changed her clothing and went out about her village, appearing before all she knew as a convert to the faith of the undead, tearing away the trust of a lifetime among neighbors as if it had never existed in the first place.
Ainz sat in his office with Demiurge in front of him, as always, the demon had his feet close together and his hands behind his back. He had his usual arch, angular smile on his face. A few yards away, Tuare cleaned diligently and with the practiced ease that spoke of a lifetime of routine. She had no fear or hesitation in her gestures any longer, and she was so thorough that one might have mistaken her for one of the created maids. No speck of dust escaped her eye, her blonde hair was done up in a bob in imitation of Yuri Alpha.
Occasionally he still glanced at her out of the corner of his vision, recalling the first time she'd cleaned for him alone, the fear, the nervousness, the terror she felt. Now all gone, there was only her devotion, to her husband, to their child, and to him who made it possible.
Fifty years earlier, Demiurge might have remained silent or dismissed her entirely, to speak privately to his master, but now he spoke openly, indifferent to her presence.
"My Lord, the stars are aligned just as you've said… I had no idea you were studying them… is this because of the knowledge we acquired from the Aiwenorians?" His entire body trembled. 'How far beyond the very stars he studies, is my master?! Lord Ulbert… if only you had stayed beside him!'
Ainz could not purse his lips, as he had none. But over the years he'd grown accustomed to making certain gestures with his fingers as if to compensate for that, and his tapping index finger echoed against his desk. He ignored Demiurge's question.
"I see, I see. I want you to issue a general callup. The Black Paladins, the Red Paladins, the Three Hundred Champions, raise all armies of my empire. I realize it will take time but…" Ainz's mind raced as he rushed to an explanation, or rather, an excuse, "there is no need to be hasty. This will be for a grand tournament, to celebrate the confirmation of the next pope. Have Cocytus get started on it right away, and I want you and Mare to lay out suitable grounds that can host an area that large. Get started immediately, now go, and send in your paramor, then summon Albedo to me, tell her to take her time." Ainz instructed Demiurge rather more brusquely than he intended, and the demon bowed crisply.
"As you wish, my lord." He said formally, and when he left the room, he politely held the door open as a familiar demoness entered. She was not in her human shape, she seldom was anymore. Her golden skin glowed faintly as it reflected the light of the room, her wings twitched at her back, and her talons clicked together in anticipation.
She flashed a sharp fanged smile at Tuare, that the maid returned quite naturally and easily, then went to one knee and bowed her head humbly to her master.
"Tuare, you've been working hard, go have something to eat." Ainz said and inclined his head to the human maid.
She bowed, "As my lord wills it." She said and made her exit swiftly.
The long black hair of the demoness swayed as she turned to watch the maid leave, and when the door closed, she faced her master again.
"It's about the book, isn't it, master?" She asked gently, tears filled her eyes, "Forgive me." She wiped her eyes, "She was one of my few friends, I still…"
Ainz let the demoness mourn again for several moments, and would have let her mourn for longer, but she fiercely wiped her eyes with the black sleeve of her shirt and forced her eyes up to her master. "I'm sorry, thank you, My Lord." She whispered.
When she was quiet, Ainz spoke, "You took her notes in secret, didn't you, Vanysa." It was not a question, but she answered anyway.
"Absolute secrecy. I didn't even tell Demi. And I swear, I never spoke of the contents of what I wrote in those times. Only she and I knew what she said when she birthed her prophecies. I tried calling for someone to heal her once, she forbade me. I lied to Nfirea about some potion experiments to get enough healing ones to keep her going. I swear, absolutely nobody knows the contents of the Book of All Days except for you, me, her, and anyone you've chosen to share it with. I swear it on my life, master."
"I see." Ainz said in a very noncommittal way. "And how is your intelligence network functioning in the colonies?"
Vanysa hung her head. "Master, we've got almost nothing there, defeating the Hungry Ones of the Triumvirate was easy enough, but crushing them completely, especially with all their mountains and other natural advantages, that has taken many years. Establishing a network of agents over so vast an area… for a glorified trading outpost, even for products as important as coffee and tobacco, well we're just stretched too thin. Our field office there is just that, a single office, and only a handful of people scattered around the larger settlements. We have nothing in the lands beyond except what comes from a few of the more adventurous merchants. Forgive me, sire, but…"
Ainz simply listened, and waited. He saw the light rising in her eyes as she understood and memory tickled at her brain.
"It's happening, isn't it?" Vanysa whispered the question, her body trembling, she chewed on her lip, drawing a spot of blood, and not caring that she'd done so, though when the droplet fell, she snatched her taloned hand out and caught it in her palm rather than let it stain her master's floor.
"Yes. Tell Lakyus I need to see her about her work with the guild. If it comes directly from you, I'm sure she'll understand the nature of this summons without my having to say it." Ainz continued tapping his finger on the desk, while Vanysa bowed her head more deeply.
"A-And my network, what do we do, master." Vanysa asked the question with a hesitant stammer.
"Change the aliases and select some sacrifices. Also redouble crystal production for gate spells. Keep both actions secret from all who are not in this room." Ainz gave the order and Vanysa looked around.
"But we are alone, aren't we My Lord?" The fury asked.
"Exactly. Now go, and obey." He said, and hung his head briefly.
"I… yes, master." She said as her heart ached for what she understood.
She rose, bowed, and headed for the door.
"Wait." Ainz whispered.
She paused. "Master?" She asked, turning her head to look over her shoulder.
"Did you write the last page of the Book of All Days? The one she left behind for me when she… when my daughter died?" Ainz's orbs looked at her intently, the red pulse a steady, wardrum like rhythm.
The demoness cracked a weak smile, "Master, my first loyalty will always be to you who gave me life again. And so I will tell you that yes, I was there. I know you're carrying it with you, the part she said not to open. And yes, I know the contents. She was… very old, as humans go, when she birthed that final prophecy. The pain she experienced, I am amazed she survived that to return to her captivity. But… she made me swear secrecy, and so I had a seal placed on the memory at her request. If you want to know before the time it is to be revealed, you must break the seal on my mind or break the seal on the page. But it was the last request she made of me. So as your loyal servant, and her loyal friend, I must advise against it."
"Very well." Ainz remarked in a neutral, emotionless voice, and he waved her away. "Go."
"Master." She replied, and departed.
Albedo entered just as the fury of wrath exited. Despite his fleshless face and body, she understood immediately, and before the 'click' of the closing door had finished sounding, she went without even a bow, to behind his desk, behind his body, and enfolded him in her embrace.
There, Ainz lowered his head into his hands, and Albedo's arms wrapped around him in an embrace that he could not have been more grateful for, but for which there were no words, not for either, not for what felt like forever.