...Nazarick Throne Room...
When Renner entered the presence of the Sorcerer King, she did not see the need to hide her true self, but she did see the need to immediately kneel in his presence. He was her master, there could be no other. The silence lingered as her head stayed low, she wondered for a moment if she would be forced to keep it there, if he was displeased by her tone when she spoke to Albedo...she wanted to go back in time and slap herself before she spoke, enraging this being was a sure way to lose everything both slowly and painfully, of that she was sure. But after a long minute of her punishing discomfort, he spoke.
"Raise your head." He said. "You are troubled. Speak."
She spoke. "Sire my Climb...I need my Climb...please...please let me have my Climb back. It hurts to be without him, my mind, it hurts, I can't think, I can't sleep...please...whatever I did...don't punish me more. I've tried so hard to work your will to your satisfaction!" Her hands popped up together and folded in prayer, she went from one knee to two as if praying to god, and inched herself along the floor on her knees, her neck craning up at the god of death before her. "If I have not displeased you and this is truly your plan...please give me some solution to where I do not have to suffer his absence. Please. There must be something!" She practically wailed as her desperate mind sought solution and as she came near to the steps of the throne she fell forward in front of them, hitting her head on the first stone step in the hopes that her royal blood would be an acceptable sacrifice.
Inside his own head, Ainz was panicking from the outset. 'Oh wow, she looks crazy scary, like Albedo when she is about to come after me again. Oh crap, she's still looking down, she's waiting for me to speak...didn't I tell her to raise her head? Oh, I didn't did I?' He mentally smacked his face and told her to raise her head, and then a moment later he watched her deteriorating mental state unfold in front of him.
When she fell forward and bloodied the step, Ainz immediately stood up, wondering if she had been seriously injured, but she rose back up to her knees and looked to him as rivulets of blood ran down her face.
"Is this enough your majesty? Or do you need more?" She begged him desperately.
Ainz thought as fast as he could, and spoke slowly as he tried to buy time enough to find some way to handle her insanity. "It is proof of your devotion to your Climb, but now you must prove your devotion to me. I have a task for you, if you do this, I will provide you a way to visit Climb in secret, he will remain in their custody for now, but I swear on my name he will be restored to you, and he will be kept safe from all possible harm."
Her eyes shone bright as stars, she really was quite beautiful, even if she was utterly insane beneath her calm exterior. "Tell me how I can serve you sire." She said breathlessly.
"I want you to host a ball. You will invite all the royal faction and you will invite all of the noble faction. You will host this just after the war breaks out, but just before the Slane Theocracy can draw the noble faction, including those idiots under Philip, into the fighting. Make up whatever excuse you want, honor your father, honor your brother's coronation, a hope for peace, I do not care what excuse you use. But host this ball in the palace of your king. Do you understand?" He asked.
"I do sire. But what then?" She asked, mystified.
"During the ball, you will get the idiots thoroughly drunk, I will assist in their distraction by ensuring that there are many beautiful ladies available to be hired to serve, and they will be focusing the majority of their attention on these hot blooded nobles and young idiots. You will use that distraction to your advantage, and one by one you will draw the royal faction members away to a private location where you will have these stored." Ainz said, and he gestured to one of the maids, and an insect woman wheeled out a cart holding a chest and she opened it up and tilted it so that Renner could see inside. There were many scrolls rolled up within.
"Those scrolls contain the same spell I used to bring you here." Ainz said as he recited the words he memorized, "I will meet with these royals, and inform them that I know of the location of their heirs and relatives within the Slane Theocracy, and will see to their rescue on five conditions."
Renner's eyes went wide as she realized the position he was putting them into, she listened as one would to a god.
"The first is that they maintain their support for Zanac as King and for you as a chancellor..." He began before she raised her hand.
"Forgive me sire, but...what is a chancellor?" She asked, mystified.
"It is a position of power and authority, which appears to not have the power and authority that it has. The King becomes the face of the kingdom, but the chancellor retains most of the power. In that vein, they will also support your unconditional marriage to the boy, Climb, if you should wish it." He added as an afterthought.
It was clearly the right guess, she beamed with overwhelming joy, as insane as she had seemed, now she seemed to shine like the sun on a bright clear Spring day. "My lord please I beg you once more for your indulgence." She said.
He nodded. "Go on."
"I pledged you to myself once before, yet to have such a boon from your hands...I must pledge myself again. I, Princess Renner, third princess of the Re-Estize Kingdom daughter of the last king, sister of the present king, pledge all my life and my death to your will, until there is nothing left of me." She said in a soft voice that carried to all the throne room, but only did so because the architecture created perfect accoustics.
"Your fealty is noted. When all is done, you will effectively rule, even if it does not appear as such to the common people." He answered.
"The second is that in exchange for my supporting him on the throne and rescuing the kidnapped family members, the royal faction accepts vassalization of the country on terms roughly equal to those under which the Baharuth Empire & the Dwarven Kingdom have accepted. I tire of the chaos and weakness on my border, I will see it grow strong again, secure again, and stable again." Ainz said ambitiously.
"The third condition is that a number of the nations laws will be amended to bring them into line with my ideals, you are I am sure, already familiar with them and will pose no objection?" He asked.
"None sire. They have done nothing but positive things, I would be utterly mad to oppose them" She replied.
"The fourth condition will be the development of trade routes at my direction." He said, being quit reasonable as far as Renner was concerned, if it meant she could have Climb, she'd have traded blood by the ocean, how much more was she willing to trade for increased prosperity as well?
"The fifth and final condition is that all those who violate the laws of war laid out when the war is joined, be subjected to trial and if guilty, that they be handed over to me for punishment." Ainz said, and Renner could hear the objections being voiced, but when she compared them to the voice of the Sorcerer King stating that condition, she could not imagine a single voice rising above him, or even speaking such an objection in his presence.
"I accept all your conditions sire, while I cannot swear that my brother or the other royals will accept it at first, in time they will have no choice, as others are sure to do so." She answered confidently, then her voice became delicate, uncertain. "Sire...I know I have not earned it yet...but please...please let me see him?" She asked softly.
"Very well." Ainz said, "Perhaps he should know what is going to happen anyway so he does nothing rash. He is brave, your Climb." Renner beamed in silent answer as Ainz opened a gate, and Renner stepped through it and found herself standing behind a sweating Climb who was busy chaining a series of strikes on a practice dummy. She waited until he finished and fell to one knee in exhaustion.
She applauded with a smile and he jumped up and whirled around. Seeing his princess, his golden jewel, he froze, unsure if he should try to hide her, escape with her, or kneel to her.
She put her finger to her lips, and he did not move. She drew close to him, closer than she had in a long time, since they were small really. She reached out to him, she took his hands, sweaty and grimy as they were, into her own and she looked up at him with her wide and innocent eyes, captivating him utterly, he could only fall into them.
"Princess Renner...mistress...what...how?" He forced out despite her command, and she spoke in a hushed voice. "Through the power of the Sorcerer King." She said. "I must make this quick, I do not know long he will allow me before closing the gate, but know this...you are safe here. Stay here, stay a comfortable and cooperative captive of these brutes in the Slane Theocracy, the Sorcerer King intends to rescue you, all of you who were taken at some point in the near future, when it will have the best effect on his plans."
"H-His plans?" Climb asked..."What is happening?" He said with fear emanating from his voice.
"War Climb. War worse than the yearly one against the Empire, worse than the massacre of the Katze Plains...but this time the Sorcerer King is on our side, he's offered to support my brother as a king, end the threats to our kingdom...and I must ask this...Climb...do you love me?" She asked, sounding vulnerable in a way he'd never heard before.
"I...yes of course my lady! I live to serve your will!" He said with devotion, which lead to shock when she threw his hands down and reached up and grabbed his shoulders so tight her little princess fingers whitened with the pressure.
Climb, that isn't what I mean, foolish man." She sighed and explained, "If I were a peasant girl, would you have loved me as a wife? Or if you were a noble, would you have been happy to have me as your noble lady?" She searched his eyes and saw them well with tears.
"My golden princess...I've loved you since I was a worthless husk of a dying child, when I saw you, I thought you were an angel descending to take my ruined body to paradise, and in a way, you did. For all the horror of this world, I called it heaven every time I saw you, and when something seemed to hurt or threaten you, I wondered if I was in hell. In the quiet times at night when I sleep outside your room, I dream fantasies of being born a nobleman so I could have married you, or curse your title as the obstacle I can never surmount no matter what I do. Yes my lady, I love you in the ways I am not permitted to ever have. Since I cannot have that, I must content myself with elevating and protecting you and..." his voice cracked and went into a bitter tone she'd never known he had in him, "any husband you have, and any children you bear with him."
"Then you will have to protect yourself, and your children Climb." She said, "One of the conditions the Sorcerer King has laid out to me for his help, is that no remaining noble or royal oppose us marrying, you can be my husband, I can be your wife." She said, and she saw his face go blank with shock.
"He's undead...why would he..." She pushed a finger to his lips again, "Hush...my future husband, trust your future wife, you have protected me since childhood, in ways you never really knew, now let me protect you, and our future, so for now, stay here and wait until we come for you again." She said, and backed her way into the portal again.
It was the single happiest moment of her life up to that point. "Now, you may return to your chambers." The Sorcerer King said, and this she did with the deepest and most sincere bow of her life, and when she saw her brother and Raeven waiting for her as she stepped through, she immediately was awed that the Sorcerer King could have even predicted this fortuitous visit that would let her bring them into the fold.
"Please. Sit." Renner said, and gestured to a table, "We have much to go over."
They did not object as they took the seats she offered.
...Dead City of Wenmark...
Remedios walked through the streets of the burned out husk that was once a mighty metropolis, she'd been walking for hours as the search continued. It was an ugly process, they flipped over burned up beds and opened cabinets and walked into dark cellars, most of her army was encamped outside of the city, while a smaller contingent operating under Yuri's direction performed the search itself. The smell of burned meat...human flesh...hung in the air like a demon's perfume. It was especially slow going because the soldiers themselves were either afraid...or because they were getting sick when they found some particularly horrible sight. Remedios however, was used to these things, everyone who had fought Jaldabaoth was used to these things, but these Southerners had barely known anything of the demon. As a result, this was more Remedios's domain than theirs, and she moved with calm and hateful confidence. Her armor clinked and cloak flapped as she searched in mental distress for some sign that the good people of Wenmark were NOT all wiped out by the vile elven rebellion.
She walked so long she lost track of time, and it was sunset by the time Yuri caught up with her passing through yet another alleyway where several bodies had to be climbed over because they had died atop one another, their blackened burned flesh was 'crispy' and it stank.
Yuri called out to her, "Remedios we've got to stop this!" She snapped, and the former Paladin Commander turned back to her. "What? Stop what?" She asked.
Yuri approached as Remedios halted. "Stop this search!" She gestured around, there is nobody alive here but us! Its madness to remain! We've got to GO! There is nothing LEFT here! Its all burned out husks of buildings and ashes and bodies!" She snapped.
Remedios didn't seem to really register what Yuri was saying for a long time, and when she did, she snapped back, leaning forward and shaking her fists, "NO! We won't search until we know for a fact that nobody is left to save! Its what Calca would do! Calca wouldn't stop until every single building had been searched so that we could be sure that nobody was left that we could save! That was her dream! A kingdom where everybody could live and be happy and we didn't have to sacrifice anyone! I won't fail her by abandoning anyone here!" Her voice was hoarse from shouting, and as if to mock her words, a brick tumbled off a building and landed on the head of a nearby corpse, smashing it open and letting the cooked brains ooze out onto the ground.
"Calca is DEAD Remedios!" Yuri shouted back and hit the side of her fist against a building, knocking soot loose from it that fell like black snow on a burned black ground and a burned blackened corpse.
She sighed heavily and reached up and rubbed her forehead, "OK look, we can keep searching, but we need to send out search parties after these elves, we have to find the ones who did all this, do you want them to burn more villages? More towns? More innocent people like the ones here in Wenmark?" Yuri asked, drawing closer, the fury she had begun to spark in Remedios when she reminded the commander of Calca's death was skillfully deflected onto Black Justice and what she'd insisted were 'spiritual heteromorphs'.
After a long time of thoughts drifting through her dull head, Remedios gave a numb nod, "Alright, we'll send out scouts, and we'll send out companies of infantry at a quick march, if we can force them to slow down with cavalry, our infantry can catch up and butcher the butchers."
It was sound enough, if not exactly inspired leadership. "I'll horsemen out right away." She said, and walked away, leaving Remedios to her walk of quiet futility, searching for survivors in a graveyard made out of a city.
Husbands and wives died with hands held fast, cribs sat empty and burned to a crisp, there was only emptiness and death wherever she looked, only the sound of crumbling buildings disturbed the silence...and the distant sound of her soldiers overturning fallen debris and calling for the living that were not there. After walking for she did not know how long, she found an empty home that was far from prying eyes and ears, and she drew out her sword and laid it reverentially against the wall, tip down and pommel up.
She knelt in front of it, "Please, my Queen...speak to me again...speak to me...tell me what I need to do. I'm lost, so lost, everywhere I turn there is death and burning and the specter of the undead. I came here, I killed the elves, I burned heretics who profane your peace, and for all my effort I now stand in a ruined city. Your good people, your citizens, they lie dead and all is lost, what do I do?" She whimpered in prayer.
But nothing answered her, no voice, no sound, no vision of her face...she received nothing, her prayers went unanswered, though she stayed kneeling and pleading before her sword until the Sun rose the following day.
...Black Justice encampment, North East of the ruins of Wenmark...
Neia had listened to Skana's story raptly, but perhaps the biggest shock was the idea of Skana with a man. When she asked, Skana snorted and said, "I am me after all, yes I've always preferred girls but...well every rule has an exception, and he really was beautiful." She gave a little winsome smile, one that was bitter sweet even though she knew it had been something wrong, it had still been part of life before Jaldabaoth, before the ever present specter of demihuman invasion had plunged her comfortable life into hell and turned her world upside down. As Neia lay herself against Skana's chest, the reality of everything that happened had been to much and the pain of CZ's slaps to her face had returned, she touched a cheek gingerly and Skana said, "I'm sure she'll apologize later, I think she was just trying to bring you back to reality, you were scaring me you know, probably her too." Skana lightly pulled Neia's face back and kissed each cheek. "You're in dire need of rest, you can't serve the god of justice if you haven't enough awareness of the world around you to recognize the difference between justice and a boiled ham." Neia forced out an uncomfortable laugh, but didn't resist as Skana guided her bodily to bed and helped the conqueror of Prart, destroyer of scriptures, hunter of demihumans...undress from her armor as if she were a child learning how to get undressed on her own. She finally got the stubborn pope down to her undergarments and covered her up. Though Neia did not resist as this was taking place, when Skana tried to get up Neia immediately grabbed her wrist. "No...I don't want to be alone." She said softly, and Skana looked into the eyes that had terrified the powerful, that she had seen in the dim light of a candle as they filled with passion, that had moved people to tear down their rulers and that had broken armored men down into weeping weak children, and she saw fear.
Skana paused, about to object that she had duties, but relented. "You come first." She said, and lay down beside her, it had been difficult at best as days went, but sleep would do them good. That thought was shattered a moment later by thrashing beside her, Skana awoke with a start, thinking there was a life or death struggle going on, immediately she reached for the weapon she always kept near, but froze in shock when she realized that if there were any life or death struggle, it was in the dreams of the warrior pope. Neia was thrashing and crying out, she briefly made out Illyana's name, Jaldabaoth's name, her own name, and the name of the Sorcerer King. Whatever dream had her, it was a nightmare, and Skana could not bear to let her suffer alone. She grabbed Neia by the shoulders and shook her hard, "Wake up!" She said, "Its just a nightmare!" The violent shaking and Skana's voice cut through the sleep and Neia shot up to a seated position like the arm of a catapult in launch, her terrifying eyes were instead filled with terror, they were wide and seemed to see nothing of what was really there, still caught up in the dream that had been real enough that she was obviously still not certain if it had been real, or if this was. Neia's entire body was drenched in sweat, and when she saw that Skana was there, holding her, looking fearfully at her face through her one good eye, the warrior pope collapsed back on to the bed, still shaking.
"Where were you?" Skana asked softly, hoping to draw her out, but Neia shook her head. I lost you, CZ, Illyana, I saw it all happen while Remedios cut me up." She reached and began to touch her body in various places, ensuring that she in fact did not have sword wounds there still. "She took everything from me and I was to weak to stop it..."
"Shhhh..." Skana said and drew her close again, "She's not here, I'm here, CZ is here..." She began, only to be interrupted when CZ drew open the tent flap and walked directly over to Neia, she pointed down at the drenched sweat stinking pope and said, "Come. Lord Ainz wants you now."
"Should I...you know...dress?" Neia said, only for CZ to shake her head. "The gate is waiting, make it now."
Neia stood slowly, as best she could, and Skana got up to go with her, then Neia reached out and touched her arm and shook her head. "No, he has called for me, no doubt he has settled on my punishment, its OK." She gave a cracked smile and tried to straighten her back to go meet her god and accept his judgement. "Lead the way CZ." She said as resolute as she could.
CZ wordlessly lead the way and as she said, there was a gate just outside the tent, flanked by two Black Justice guards, Neia would have blushed if they had been facing the tent, at least she had that much dignity. CZ walked through the portal, and Neia stepped through immediately after. She found herself in a paradise, the Sorcerer King stood a few yards away, looking out from the top of a low hill, and Neia could only stop and stare at him. He seemed so very godly there, the epitome of kingship and power, his noble aura radiated from him like a flower's fragrance.
She stood there so long he said without looking over his shoulder, "Are you going to stand there staring at me all night, or are you going to come over here and say something?"
She blushed and walked past where CZ had stopped, she knelt at his back and shook like a half withered leaf in an autumn breeze. "No, come over here." He said, "Stand beside me." She rose, confused, and went to his side. "Does this look familiar?" He asked.
"No my lord. It does not." She said honestly.
"Really?" He asked. "Only a few months ago you spent a year here, training, grinding away any weakness from yourself, learning everything there was to know about strategy, combat, leadership, here you became the woman who brought down a city, who kings listened to and usurpurs feared, who the corrupt wet themselves over and who the people followed."
"It looks so different now though..." She said with awe.
"Do you really think that changing this would be beyond my power?" He asked. "I had this place changed before many times, right in front of you, but this...this is how it was originally, before you came to it, this was how my friends and I designed it to be." He said proudly.
"They must have been amazing." She said, and she went down to both knees in reverence. If he minded the gesture, he said nothing, so she held it, as she was now on sacred ground.
"They were." He replied wistfully, "The most precious of friends I ever had, and I will never forget them, and I think though I will learn to live with missing them, I will never stop wishing to have them back." He looked down at the sweat drenched Neia, who suddenly remembered her state of near undress again. She blushed, and Ainz held out his cloak, it looked familiar, and that was when she saw the stain, blood...there could be only one source for it, and when she took his cloak, she didn't put it on, she broke down, held it to herself and sobbed and rocked back and forth. Ainz didn't say anything for a long time, he let her be. When her eyes ran out of tears to shed, she was reduced to strange mix of coughing and choking.
Finally, he spoke. "I did something terrible to you, Neia Baraja." Ainz said.
She looked up at him in shock. "No sire! I was just weak, I was stupid! I wasn't good enough and because of that I failed you! You are a god, the god of justice, my justice, you can do no wrong to me! Nor would you if you could!" she said with alarm.
Ainz sighed internally, she reminded him of the guardians. "I did." He said. "And because of that, you have been badly wounded."
"If his majesty commands it, I will strip to show him that I am whole." She said with conviction. "Not a scratch on me worth mentioning, I swear it on your justice."
Ainz was very glad he could not blush.
"Not in body, in mind, your spirit, your mental health is badly damaged, I placed so much on your shoulders alone, when you took Remedios's swords into your body over and over, I thought nothing of your mind after your body was restored. When you walked among the dead who followed you, I thought nothing of your mind as you gazed at horror. When you were nearly beaten in Yanana, when you nearly lost Skana, through all the terrors and horrors you have faced, so long as your body was intact, I gave no thought to what was happening to you here." He said, and his skeletal finger reached out, and touched her forehead.
"Sire I..." She began and he put that skeletal finger to her lips to silence her. "Listen to me." He said as he shook his head.
"You have spent so much time inflicting death, preventing death, enduring suffering the likes of which most never do...taking on responsibilities far beyond your youthful years...and I gave no thought to how much that was wounding your mind along the way, forgive me." He said, and he crouched next to her and bowed his head.
"Sire please! I am your servant, please raise your head, do not bow to me!" She said, frantically gesturing for him to rise.
"What is wrong with me is wrong with me because I am weak! I must be weak else I could keep it together, I'm ashamed that I can't be as strong as you need to be, as I'm SUPPOSED to be!" She half shouted, half sobbed, "If my mind is troubled I should be able to just push it aside and deal with it, just suck it up and drive on, that is what it means to be your warrior pope, that is what it means to be a soldier in your service sire! I cannot be weak! There can't be anything wrong! I just have to..." She froze as his skeletal fingers closed on her cheek and turned her to face him, shocked into silence, he said firmly...
"You...are not...WEAK!" His voice carried the thunder of absolute authority. "Tell me Neia, why have you not told Skana to just open the bad eye and see with it already?"
Neia touched her cheeks briefly, but was silent at the odd question. "I...don't understand sire."
"When Illyana was stabbed through the lungs, was she weak because she just couldn't keep breathing? Was she weak because her blood was lost to her and she couldn't stand back up?" His red orbs that served for eyes held her face like the way a snake's gaze held a small bird still. "Was Gascon weak when he stopped moving after being stabbed many times? Why did you not simply tell him to not die, or tell Illyana to just suck up the sword wound and walk it off?"
Neia frowned, "Sire those are serious injuries, they require extensive treatment or powerful healing magic to restore, and even then it has to be done quickly or all is lost."
"Correct." Ainz said, "And THIS..." he touched her head again, "can be wounded just as badly, just because the wounds do not bleed, just because they cannot be bound up or fixed with a potion or a convenient spell, that doesn't mean they are not there, these are insidious wounds, inflicted as a consequence of other wounds, and just as there is no shame in Skana's partial blindness, or Illyana or Gascon's death, there is no shame in the injury you suffer, that nobody can see. Why should you be ashamed of it? The very reason you have it at all is because of WHO YOU ARE!" His voice became passionate and began to rise as he continued on, "You have served me loyally and well, you are not to blame for suffering wounds when I am the one who commanded you to the position that led them to be inflicted in the first place! I ignored the signs of your well being because you kept winning so easily, and I gave no thought to the cost and the toll it was taking on you. But you bore those wounds for my sake, you have nothing to be ashamed of Neia Baraja!"
He crouched next to her again and took her shoulders, "Nothing, do you understand me. If it is not a shameful thing to be blinded by blade or arrow, if it is not a shame to lose a leg to an ax or have a sword scar your arm and need treatment before using them again, then it is not a shame that your mind needs healing as well. You are my servant, I am responsible for your well being, and I neglected that gravely. How just can the god of justice be, who lets his soldiers fight while wounded and does not treat them afterwards?" He asked her, and she let herself melt into his touch, he felt to her, less like a god, less like a king in that moment, and more like a father. Where others saw his power, his majesty, his terrifying aura of absolute nobility, Neia saw a paternal figure, not a skeleton that was cold and unthinking, uncaring, but a sire in the most literal sense, and perhaps it was because she felt this way, that she dared raise her arms to hug him.
"I know that if I command it, you will accept my will and get the help that you require, but this is not like other wounds, Neia Baraja, this is not cured by a potion or a spell, I know something of these, through another world far removed from this one, where terrible wars left people shells of who they were, they did not have merely amputated limbs, but amputated spirits that they had to come to terms with, and the fact that they 'appeared' normal and uninjured, made them deeply ashamed of the mental scars that were invisible, many took their own lives in dispair and shame rather than get the help they needed, and I will not let that fate befall you, nor any who follow me. Now stand, I want to show you something." He said, and he helped her rise to her feet, and the cloak she'd held, he put around her. "You and you alone can see to your own restoration, perhaps I could do it for you, but it would require that I erase part of your memory, perhaps much of it, seal it away, and you would forget Gascon, you would forget Illyana...and I do not think you want that." He said, and she nodded her head in agreement, she never wanted to forget. "You must embrace the process of restoring your mind, and so must all others."
It was an awe inspiring feeling, to feel his warmth and his attempt at reaching down to his broken servant to see her restored, and his cloak, stained still with the blood of a dead slave, she knew he could have easily rid himself of the mark on his clothing, wiped her blood away as if she had never lived, bled, and died, but he hadn't, it was such a small thing, but to Neia it meant the world. She clenched the magnificent garment close to her body, and followed where he lead, and when they crested another rise, that was when she saw it, a magnificent structure, far below her, she could see down what seemed to be hundreds of feet, there were magnificent gardens, a grassy seats, creeks and small waterfalls, she took all that in and much, much more. "What is this place..." She asked.
"This...doesn't exist yet." Ainz said, "But I wanted you to see what would be. I am going to build these in every nation that I rule. This is going to be the first of them, I call it..."Illyana's House" after that friend of yours, I thought you might approve of her name living on. Neia's eyes welled up again. "But...what is it?"
"A place of healing." Ainz said, "Where those who are scarred by war and trauma may come and be nursed back to health, magic is a wonderful thing, it heals the body with ease, but the mind requires other measures, and in the world I spoke of in the past, that place of terrible wars, there were many in dire need, though many cultures looked down on such wounds, considering them to be defects of character or courage, others, much wiser figures, saw them for what they are, the cost of battle paid for by spirit, and so these muuch wiser figures developed a myriad of methods of treatment, some of them dating back many thousands of years. This will be the fruit of their knowledge. We are on the verge of a terrible war, and those who follow me, no matter how well we win, will pay a terrible price to see it to a proper end, and it is a bad ruler who forgets the sacrifices of their followers."
"Do you want me to be a bad ruler, Neia Baraja?" He asked her.
She shook her head vigorously. "Do you trust me?" He asked.
She nodded just as vigorously, still to stunned to speak.
"Do you understand, I am not ashamed of you, that I am proud of all that you have done for me?"
Her nod was not vigorous, but it was there.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, your wounds are the price of your service, if you are ashamed of your wounds, then you must be ashamed of your service. Are you ashamed of your service?" He asked her.
The vigorous head shaking returned.
"Then do not be ashamed of your wounds. I know I must ask much, much more of you, more than most could ever bear, but will you promise me of your own volition, without order from me, to visit Illyana's House when events permit, and seek treatment and recovery before you return to duty?" He asked gently, holding her gaze to his own.
"I...yes sire, your majesty...Ainz." She said, daring to use his name for the first time since they had parted ways after the war against Jaldabaoth, when he had permitted her to do so.
"Good." He said. "I want you to relax here tonight, take your ease, time will be frozen for you for a little while, to grant you extra hours, and when you are bathed, rested, and ready, I will send you back, you must see to the liberation of the mines around Wenmark, and you have only a little time before Remedios gives up on Wenmark and hunts you in earnest. Will you thrust yourself into the breach again for me?" He asked.
"I will sire...and...thank you." She said, and when the illusion was dispelled, she saw a lake and a gentle creek, and she reverentially laid his cloak down and headed towards the water, and Ainz walked away, leaving her alone.
...Nazarick in a break room...
"Do you see?" Sebas Tian said to Calca as he shut off the mirror of remote viewing that had been focused on Ainz & Neia. She collapsed to a sofa in awe. "Never in my life...never in my whole life, have I seen anything so noble as what I just saw right there." Queen Calca looked up at Sebas, emotion filling her face, "I have always thought I was a good Queen, I tried to be, I wanted to create a place where nobody would suffer, where everybody would be happy, that is the kingdom I wanted, but as I see what he has done, I realize he is so far beyond me that I may as well be the worst of tyrants. And...if what is said of Remedios is really true, and all the things she has done, I am truly a fool to have not seen what she was, or what she could be."
She shook her head, but the royal in her asserted itself, "But I must ask...the stain, the blood on his cloak, it isn't his...so where did it come from and why doesn't he clean it?"
Sebas then relayed the story of Illyana as he had heard it, and her face fell forward into her hands in shock. Sebas, ever the perfect butler, stood silently waiting for something from her. When she managed to raise her head again, she looked up at Sebas and asked..."Do you think he would accept my kingdom as a province of his nation, or will he only permit us to join him as vassals?" She asked, her voice clear as crystal and resolute as an steel sword.
Sebas was quietly awed that Demiurge had seen so deeply into his master's plans that Queen Calca should see the benefits of his rule through his character. Though she had believed him before...and how could she not have with such overwhelming nobility and charisma, this had taken it to a whole other level. And Sebas replied dutifully, "I cannot speak as to my master's will in that regard, however I am sure he would be generous enough to hear your request at least. But please, when you speak to him, do not tell him that we permitted you to see what you have just been shown, he can be...a little stand offish about his privacy, and he might be concerned that word might come back to the lady Baraja that her moment of unburdening was witnessed."
"Of course Sebas." The Holy Queen said, "I swear nobody will ever know what I saw. The secret is safe with me."
...In the mines of Wenmark a day later...
The fire that burned the city was so great that it illuminated the darkness all the way to the great mines that provided the vital ores of orichalcum, adamantite, and platinum that had so enriched the city. Within the mines, human and elf prisoners worked without pause and without hope. Though they ate well, better than most any other slave in the city's possession this was not a kindness, this was a practical necessity. Mine workers had to be strong to haul rocks and wrench the precious ores from the merciless and uncaring rock. So they ate well, they had a diet rich in meat, but a life rich in scars, the beatings began on the first day of arrival. The guards would beat a slave without mercy so that they would know fear, then when the slave healed they would be fed and put to work. Children were used to crawl through small spaces, while females were used to carry water and treat the injured and provide entertainment to the guards. When the work was done, the billeting locations were ramshackle shacks surrounded by high wooden walls and towers with expert archers. Prisoners were shackled together in the evening, and they slept in the dirt with nothing worth mentioning to protect them from the elements.
When the fire lit up the night, slave and guard were united in awe, curiosity, and fear. Everybody knew that such a massive fire could not possibly be natural, and anything could have caused it. While the slaves had no love of Wenmark or its guards, they knew as well as anyone that there were worse monsters out there, and anyone who could burn that city was a potential threat.
The guards however, were smart enough to mandate silence and confine prisoners to their quarters, the next morning they sent out the wagons with their daily delivery of minerals, and the wagons did not return. They sent out a few guards to investigate, and those guards did not return.
When the prisoners were all within the mines working, the guards stood outside and spoke amongst one another.
"I'm telling you Tesse, we should abandon the slaves and get the hell out of here." A large armored man of thick black beard and tanned leathery skin said adamantly.
"And I'm telling you Nabok," his wirey lean muscled spear wielding companion said, "if we do that and its nothing, we'll lose our pay and an easy gig. You go if you want, maybe they'll even promote me for staying behind." He had a smug look on his face as he spoke, and it infuriated Nabok into a purple face and a silent, sullen expression.
"Fine, but if nobody comes tomorrow, either back from delivery or to tell us what happened, I say we high tail it out of here as fast as possible." Nabok said, and several of his companions nodded.
"Fine, fine." Tesse said with a shrug and rested his spear on his shoulders, flinging his arms casually over them as if it were an ox's yoke. "I get it, that's fair, but where do you want to go exactly." He glared at them all sharply.
"Anywhere but Wenmark." Nabok said, "Whatever happened there, would probably still be happening and I don't want to walk into it." He said bluntly, "Do you?"
Tesse sighed heavily, "No, no I guess not, so we're settled just on 'away from whatever the fuck is happening there, then?"
There was a general round of agreement, and they went about their business until the sun set and the darkness of the mines covered the world around them. Through that darkness cut a number of figures, they wore black armor, carried bows, a sword, hammer, or mace fit for a single hand, and no shield.
They moved in teams of four, and carried with them hooked ropes. The large metal hooks would normally have made abundant noise, but to prepare against this they had wrapped them with thick cotton coverings, so that instead of a loud thunk, it hooked smoothly. This mine was quite proud of its reputation, it held hundreds of slaves both human and elf in a state of near perfect control. There had never been a successful escape, and its quotas had never been missed, but this was also why it was chosen, and this choosing exposed its greatest weakness.
The walls and towers were designed to keep those present IN, not to keep enemies OUT, the very notion that enemies would strike at them was practically foreign, after all, Wenmark was one of the great cities of the South, it had perhaps the finest city guards any population could ask for, unlike most cities, they could actually project power without a call up, and as a result, bandits were few and far between, and smart ones avoided Wenmark like the plague, lest they end up becoming plunder themselves. As a result, the guards fell back on long habit despite the mystery of the late return of their wagons, and nobody was watching where the hooks and ropes went up, and nobody was watching as the dark clad figures silently pulled themselves up the wall, the darkness their shield, their speed their weapon.
So each of the teams went up the walls, one by one, then dropped silently to the ground below, the first one to the ground raising up their arms and helping to slow the drop of the next person.
A distance away from the fortification, more figures in black waited for the signal.
On the inside of the wall, the silent figures one by one began to assassinate the tower guards, while another team moved to the gate, and oh so gently unlocked it and opened it just enough to step outside, and one figured did just that. With nobody in the towers to see her, she lit small flame to a torch and waved it chest height in front of herself, and then extinguished it, while other teams went in to the towers of the now assassinated guards.
Hundreds of figures had seen the light, and they crept up as slowly as they could until they'd reached the gate, and once there they quietly opened it. It swung in, the way any gate intended to keep others in, rather than enemies out, might do. That was when hell was unleashed and the fire from Wenmark found its way to the first of its mines. Those in the tower nocked arrows, put flame to them, and began to fire on the guards billeting quarters. It was a satisfying string of 'thock' like sounds as the flaming arrows found their marks on the nicer buildings and the guards who could not fathom just what they'd heard, stepped out, only for the first of them to take flaming arrows to the chest. Most of them were not armed or armored, some were barely dressed as they amused themselves, all were caught off guard...a delicious irony for those who appreciated it. And that was when the screaming began, Black Justice swords came out and they charged en masse through the gate, the eighty five survivors of Neia's elites went hell for broke, and behind them stormed hundreds of vengeful elves who had armed themselves with whatever they had been able to scavenge from the city and from any other humans they had killed. It was a motly force following a professional one, and both were vengeful and filled with merciless rage.
Neia's evangelistic voice carried like the booming of thunder and pounded power into their stride and into their blows, and struck terror into those who heard it, she was a banshee, a whirlwind, she wanted only bloodshed and death, she was a reaper, and as Wenmark had sown, she reaped from them a bitter harvest. A large looking black bearded guard came at her with a heavy mace, he swung and Neia deftly stepped aside, lept back, and as she did so she used her bow and put an arrow into each of his knees, severing his legs where they struck and sending him falling back screaming. She then drew her sword and the desperate man swung his mace up from across his body, and she leaned back again and kicked his weapon hand at the wrist, breaking it, but not his grip, though it propelled his hand to painfully strike the ground. She had already slung her bow and drawn her sword as she pressed her weight on the fractured wrist, pinning down. In an instant she was reminded of the way she'd seen the guards holding down Illyana, how she'd been held at the wrist, how they taunted her by letting her continue to hold a weapon she couldn't raise to defend herself, and when the fire caught nearby, the man beneath her saw her face, he saw her eyes, and he knew who stood over him. She listened to him scream in terror at the eyes of death and terror and judgement, the squire of death itself, and the tip of her sword went to his chest. "Does it feel good...to force it in?" She asked in a sickened voice, leaving the man confused and terrified as she said without waiting for an answer, "Lets find out." And then she began to press the blade into his body between his ribs, it was not over quickly, she made it hurt, she made him scream through the blood that began to rise up past his lips and down the sides of his mouth as he thrashed helplessly under her, and then she moved on to find another victim.
She was not alone in her bloodlust, not even slightly. Though CZ stood atop a tower and blew apart head after head, for her it was cold and calculated, but for Skana it was more personal, she ran low across the ground, leaning in to her fast moving stride, though she did not kill with Neia's slow sadism, she sought the points that would hurt the most before she sought the points of the body that would kill the quickest and she left half naked sleepy guards screaming behind her, unable to move, living only long enough to know the fearful realization that they were indeed dying. A wiry looking spear wielder rushed her out of the darkness, she turned and hacked her blade down, cutting the spear in half but he was not an untrained fool even if he did lack armor, he turned one weapon into two and began to swing at her with both, keeping her on the defensive, forcing her back, and alternating between strikes and stabbing attacks. However the one handed style of Black Justice was built for this, and she waited until he overextended his swing and she reached out and grabbed the broken half of the spear and spun clockwise with his swing, using the momentum to throw him, as he stumbled forward, her sword hand stabbed out, striking him in the back of his left side, and penetrating all the way through a kidney. He went down screaming, and for good measure, she stood over him as he lay on his belly, and stabbed him through his other kidney as well, before she moved on.
For all the fighting and screaming and dying, the elf and human slaves could only scream and shout questions and rave in terror, there was no way out of their restraints and no way out of their pathetic buildings, so for all the fighting going on, they were not even spectators. Having caught the mining operation by total surprise, with most of the guards entirely lacking in armor, many of them having been drinking, and all either asleep or distracted and tired, it was a one sided fight if ever there had been. Seven unarmored elves had died in the fighting, but the guards were uniformly dead before dawn. Nobody had been interested in taking prisoners that night.
Immediately after the fighting, they stripped the guards of anything useful and dragged their naked, dishonored corpses to the center open area of the mining operation. Neia turned to one of the elves. "Go, get the prisoners out here, I want to do this only once." She said, and he took up a set of recovered keys and went from shack to shack. By the time he was done, the Sun had begun to peak over the horizon.
The armored elves were a shock, but the rows of armored members of the Black Justice elites were an intimidating sight, and behind their concealed cloths in front of their faces, who they were individually or collectively was a mystery. Mystery is a very bad thing for slaves in the best of times, usually nothing good comes of what is unknown. However the pile of bodies that had formerly been their oppressors and abusers left them some room for hope, and the presence of so many obvious elves was even more exciting...at least for the elf captives.
When they were all gathered, Neia pulled back her hood and removed her facial covering. "I am Neia Baraja. Do you know who that is?" She said, her evangelist class sending power to her voice, but despite the intimidating state, most looked uncertain. An older elf stepped forward, rubbing his wrists still where the chains had held him fast and tight. "Ma'am, we have...many of us, been here a long time, we don't know much beyond the mines. Please, tell us, and tell us what happens now?"
A human spoke up, "I know of you." He said softly, awed, he felt a shiver as the mad eyed archer gazed at him, "You are squire of the Sorcerer King, you are the mad eyed archer. You killed the Grand King Busar..." He trailed off, "I-I don't know much else, but before I was imprisoned, I heard that much." He swallowed hard, wondering if he should have kept quiet.
Neia wiped the black off her pine green armor as she spoke, "Then I will fill you in. Wenmark is burned and what elves could be brought out of it, were saved, some of them stand behind me now. You have two choices. You can come with me, return to my band and escape, or you can join us as we attack the remaining mining complexes and other facilities in the area and free all the other prisoners."
"What then?" The older elf said cynically, "We'll just be caught, tortured, and killed again, there is nowhere to go."
"Yes there is." Neia answered, "The Sorcerer King is taking in all elven refugees and escaped slaves, every member of Black Justice is obligated by our service to the god of justice, to never accept being enslaved, never enslave any other, and to assist those who are enslaved in acquiring their freedom, through resistence and aggression if necessary."
There were many disbelieving stares. Wenmark burned, a refuge, a massive organization obligated to free them? It was all to much.
"Events have spiralled out of control." Neia said bluntly, "You have to make your choice now, but if I were you, I wouldn't stay here." She held a torch out to Skana, who lit it for her. It sprang to life and Neia threw it on to the pile of bodies. "You have enough time for one thing, grab something, set it on fire, and throw it on to this pile of fetid meat that had been your guards, and then we're getting out of here. If you want to come with us, we'll get you a chance to be free, and a chance to strike back. If you don't want to come with us, I won't force you, but there are others out there who will find you and kill you, so be quick about your choice."
Her speech was blunt and powerful, but as the bodies began to catch on fire, the reality of the situation began to hit home. Female elves clung to one another and wept with joy, but they were not alone, humans went to their knees and stared at the rising flames, elf males were dancing...save for the older ones, those who had spent more time in hell than others, they were cautious. They stared at the rising flames and feared their turn to burn was coming. Neia, seeing this, approached them, "I don't blame you for fearing the fire." She said, her voice haunted, but firm and resolute. "I think it will be a long time before I draw comfort from its warmth again, if I ever do, but unless you want to end up in it the way you fear you will, you should come with us, we have a few days to operate, and every minute is precious."
Her encouragement and caution seemed to work their way into the minds of the elder elf slaves, and they went to work. The valuables of the dead were quickly distributed to those best suited to use them, while elf slaves took up their tools of service and held them as if they were weapons. "Its funny." One of the elves said with a grim humor in his voice, "Yesterday morning I got up, took this thing in hand, and I hated it, I despised it as much as I despised the guards and overseer, every day I wished it would break, because my tools were my enemies. But as I hold it now, and I think of this sharp end that pulled ore out of rock, and I imagine it swinging into the naked neck of a Wenmark soldier, I love it and don't want to stop swinging, just send me more to swing at, and I'll be a blood miner." He grinned and chuckled at his gallows humor.
There was a pause as his last two words were repeated. "Blood miner?" Was carried from tongue to tongue, ear to ear. Neia sensed an opportunity and spoke up, "Blood Miners you are, and if you the Sorcerer King, he will lead you to many fruitful veins! Will you come with us, Blood Miners!" She shouted out at them, and they shouted in return, "Blood miners! Blood Miners! Blood MINERS!" The Noise was deafening, and Neia gave a wicked smile, her eyes were sharp and terrifying as they reflected the fire, and stray captured swords and spears went up, as well as picks and mattocks and the implements that had formerly been a source of profit for the dead city, instead became implements that would see the last vestiges of it torn down and burned.
The journey back to camp was relatively quick, as it had been moving in relation to the advance party, the wagons of the mine had been confiscated, along with all horses and other goods, and this proved a great boon, as more of the survivors were dispatched east in wagons, in this way they would link up with the Black Justice defenders that would see them out of the South and into the freedom of the North where Black Justice was heavily influential, most especially in Prart.
The newly liberated mining slaves were made up of two groups, humans and elves, and when they returned, Neia was quick to meet with them both. "I will be blunt." She said, as Skana stood behind her, body locked stiff and hand threateningly held onto her sword. "We made sure Wenmark burned to the point that there was nothing left, but in that time, we learned that humans and elves in captivity are treated in two very different ways, with humans...mostly, having some way out of their captivity and elves having none. What is more we learned that the elves and humans who labored under bondage within the city did not get along and were never willing to trust or work together. The Vines never collaborated with human servants of any kind, however they also said they had no idea how things worked in the mines. So I will ask you now." Her eyes, lit bright in the clear day, were soul piercing as she looked them over.
"Blood miners...do you trust these humans to fight beside you?" It was a question that had a very stark meaning to the humans. "Are they of the same chain, will you fight with them, die with them, mine for blood with them...or not? If not, then know that I do not have room for prisoners and I will not risk betrayal." Her voice became bitter to such a degree that it shocked Skana to the very heart.
There was a long silence as the humans waited for what amounted to the verdict in a death penalty case.
The elves spoke among themselves, and in the end they sent a representative forward from among them who said, "There are three who need to die. If the other humans will kill them here and now, we will offer our continued trust to the remainder, and we are all Blood Miners."
"Name them." Neia said firmly, then paused, "Wait. Before you do..." She turned to the humans who stood frozen on the spot, "You heard him I assume, but if you did not, he says that the elves will offer their continued trust to you, but only at the price of three who must die. I want you to tell me who he was about to say." She said bluntly. It did not take long.
"Goraj, Inkas, & Telim." One of their number, a young man with little beard and many scars said with confidence filling his voice. The three immediately began to protest, but Neia ignored the protests and turned to the elf representative.
"Are they right?" She asked.
The elf nodded. "They are." He said bitterly.
"See it done." Neia said sharply to the humans, who quickly began beating the three shouting men to death, fists and feet flew out and connected, and after a short, brief racket, the protests that became screams, in turn became silence, and the three humans were beaten entirely to death. Their killers were breathing hard, but Neia had another question. "What did they do?" She asked curiously.
"They were informants, they traded information for extra food, even ruined one of our attempts at resistence once, traded information for shortening the sentence and a few turns on one of the elf women." One of the men said bitterly, he spat on the small corpse pile in disgust, "Truth be told we wanted them dead as much as the elves did, but we couldn't do anything."
"Why not?! Its because of them that Foltli was burned alive!" One of the elf women said bitterly, her voice a hateful shriek.
"Did you want to burn too!" The human snapped back.
"They were protected by the guards, if anything...ANYTHING happened to them...even if it were an accident...or 'accident'" he said, placing further accent on the repetition of the word to drive home his point, "then they told us we'd be burned to death, the children would be burned to death, you'd be burned to death...then they'd just send our corpses around to the other mines as a warning of the results of rebellion, and then requisition another batch to replace us all."
The elf children stayed behind the adults for the most part, and Neia saw their haunted, hollow looks, as if they were moving through the world, but unaware of it, she knew that look very well, the face of witnessing horror. She swallowed and took a deep breath. "So...you are on the same side then." She forced herself to say with confidence, and the elf and human representatives that had impromptu asserted themselves as such, approached and clasped hands. "Yes. We mined for ore together, now we'll mine for blood together." The human said, and both he and the elf exchanged wolfish grins, probably the first time either had smiled in a very long time.
Neia gestured to CZ, who approached her silently and waited, and Neia leaned in, "I'd like you to request a banner for me." She said softly.
"What kind?" She asked.
"A blood splattered man, with a mining pick in his chest." She said in a moment of inspiration. CZ understood, with a nod, sent her message along with an explanation.
AN: Well I have...good news...and I have...bad news.
The GOOD news is that yes, I WILL be continuing this story to the end.
The BAD news is...I literally JUST noticed that there is a limited life on the stories on this site, when its done, its over, of course fortunately backing it up is easy. BUT...it seems a shame that this should be the case when people seem to actually enjoy it. With that in mind, I'd like to ask y'all for recommendations for other fan fiction sites to load it up to.
I may just have to create a website backup to host these kinds of things, both the fan fiction and my original works.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, to be frank, some of it was just as hard to write...or harder...than the previous one. Let me just add this, if you know someone who seems to be suffering from depression, or who has PTSD or some other form of trauma, and you tell them to just 'suck it up and deal with it' you're being an asshole. Mental wounds may not be visible to the naked eye, but they are no less real and no less debilitating. You wouldn't tell a person in a wheel chair to just get out of it and walk, you wouldn't tell a person with a broken arm to just take the cast off, and you wouldn't tell a blind person to just start seeing, mental trauma is no different. If you want to say anything, it should be words of support, try to get them the help they need, because we live in a world where mental injuries like PTSD, or mental illness like depression, are thought of like splinters that people just need to yank out an be done with it. But it isn't that simple, if it were, everybody would do THAT. If you or someone you know and love has or may have these kinds of issues...
Please visit mentalhelp dot net to find more information.
Writing up the fracturing of Neia's mind and the urgency of getting her help took a lot out of me, so I'll be frank, I probably won't have a chapter up for a day or two, I need to decompress. So don't worry, not posting for a day or two doesn't mean I'm dead or that I've given up on the story. 'lol' I will be back. Go read the fantastic new work 'Brave New World: The Summit by 'ALearningMan' whose update schedule is almost as fast as mine and who is doing such a solid job that he's pissing me off because he's ripping ideas right out of my brain that I now probably can't use because I don't think I can add more than he has to that kind of story. ;) Just kidding man, you're awesome, keep em coming!
Oh, ALSO...YES I am well aware for those few who might be snarky enough to say it...that Ainz could theoretically cure Neia's PTSD via magic. And to that I say...
Here is the point-.
And here you are-whoosh
The whole series could end in one go with a use of Armageddon Evil: Ainz activated Armageddon evil...and those who did not surrender, died.
But who wants that? Nobody, that's who. Never let the details get in the way of a good story. And I HOPE this is a good story. :)
OK, thanks for reading, reviews please, I'll be back in a few days with more! :)