Chapter 19: Green with Envy and Poison

Trouble had apparently been waiting for the three friends and wanted to introduce them to its friends. Several minor traps awaited them as they searched through the crumbling factory-fortress, as did numerous powerful Hollows. Most notable were several more Desert Sorceresses that confronted the traveling trio, their odd mirror-fans blasting Pyromancy at the Undead. They fell easily though without any armor to protect their vitals. Interestingly some wore strange blue and silver rings with a dragon branded upon the surface. Erik had never seen them before but scooped them up regardless as he could feel the magic in them. He'd see if Carhillion could identify them later.

Unbeknownst to the chef, the two women accompanying him would sneak over to the fallen Desert Sorceresses and remove articles of clothing from them behind his back. Undamaged ones of course but also only a single piece at a time so that stripping them would not make the exotic women completely naked when their previous owners revived.

It was a good thing Erik was fairly clueless and unobservant when it came to the actions of his companions. He just labeled their twitchy movements as 'womanly issues' and put it out of his mind. Out of all the non-cooking related things his father had taught him, the advice that women were strange, exotic beasts whose activities and mindset were best left a mystery had helped him a lot so far.

"I remember these women," Erik suddenly spoke up, snapping his fingers in realization. This earned him stares of semi-hostility from his two comrades-in-arms.

"How so?" Chloanne asked in a tone that could only be described as sickly-sweet.

"In the Demon's memories, I saw these women," Erik elaborated, unsure of why a shiver had run down his back. "They were accompanying the queen of Alken, and his memories referred to them as 'handmaidens.' I think whoever she was, the Old Iron King's second wife was from Jugo. All these Hollows on the upper levels are her servants!"

"And how does this help us, exactly?" Lucatiel asked, arms folded across her chest.

"I… that is a good question," Erik admitted with an embarrassed scratch of his neck. His companions simply face-palmed.

"I'm sorry! Sometimes when I see things related to the souls and their visions, I can't help but remember them in greater detail," Erik protested, which made his followers pause.

"You can still see the visions? At will, now?" The knightess inquired. The chef shrugged.

"Not really. Whenever I see a Desert Sorceress, the Covetous Demon's souls 'remembers' them, and I get flashes of information about what he – it – knew about them. When I use my Pyro- and Cryomancy I can sense the Lost Sinner's knowledge on the subject allowing me to control my powers. I can't actively dive into the souls to get more information. Or at least, I haven't tried to do so."

"Perhaps we should hold off on that experiment until later. Say, when we are not in hostile territory?" the ore trader suggested, and they nodded with gusto.

Traveling continued, and now the upper floors were patrolled entirely by the silvery Hollows and the ashen skinned mage-women. They worked in concert, attacking and utilizing their advantages against the intruders. But it was all for naught, as the Hollows fell to the blades and spells of the advancing and determined Undead.

On the way to the top, the trio ran into an elderly man with a tangled white beard and wild hair, carrying a long ladder. He started in surprise and tensed, but relaxed when he saw Chloanne with the group.

"Oh, lass! You're Lenigrast's daughter, aren't ya! It's been a while! It's me, Gilligan!"

"Hello," the ore trader said tersely, and he just chuckled awkwardly.

"Still a bit sore about that, um, incident I assume?"

"Yes," She said curtly, and the chef and knightess shared confused glances.

"Um, who is this?" Erik asked, and the old man laughed.

"I'm Gilligan the Laddersmith! I used to know Lil' Chloanne and her pops Lenigrast back in Volgen." He saw the anger in the young merchant's eyes and he sweat-dropped. "I think I'll be heading back to Majula now. Not much treasure out here, and I want to get to look over the plans I picked up for those moving platforms. I'll, uh, see you around."

With that the elderly Undead moved off, his steps hurried as Chloanne bored a hole in the back of his head with an angry stare.

"What on earth did that man do you piss you off so badly?" Lucatiel asked, surprised to see that the kind and ditzy young woman could actually feel anger like that.

"Gilligan is a con artist and crook,"Chloanne spat. "He makes ladders and ropes, but his true passion is getting other people to pay for his antics. He was chased out of Volgen three years before I became an Undead due to gambling debts, public disorder, and sleeping with the Captain of the Guard's wife."

"Sounds like a piece of work," Erik said, giving the area the man had passed through a scathing look that was mirrored by Lucatiel.

"One time, he tricked my father into buying a huge shipment of bad quality nails and assorted iron work, and then ran off with the money forcing us to pay back the debt he saddled us with! It took us months to sell off the crappy goods he foisted onto us!" Chloanne told her friends, retelling the misdeeds of that man. "I was hoping he'd died, but instead he became Undead. Just my luck to have two extremely bad memories follow me to this place."

"Well we don't have to worry about him again for a while. He's going away to Majula, and if we're lucky the people there will eventually tire of his antics," Erik said hopefully. Chloanne smiled, but it was half-hearted.

After leaving Gilligan behind several more hours passed and the group reached the top floor. A fog gate barred entry to whatever lay behind. According to the Demon's memories, this was where the Queen's chambers were. It seemed likely that she was behind there. The memories further warned about her skill with polearms, swords, and Sorcery. They cleared out the various Hollows and some Poison Horn Beetles in a hidden room, as well as confronting a Red Phantom that attacked with two massive sickles and their very first Mimic!

The Mimic was an unpleasant surprise, and it nearly bit Chloanne in half when she went to pop the lid. Only a quick Combustion from Erik saved her from being devoured as the Pyromancy seared its limbs and forced it to drop the young woman. The Undead attacked it vigorously, desperate to cut the monster to pieces. It gave a loud growl and tried to sweep aside its attackers with its unnaturally long arms, but that just gave Lucatiel a chance to hack them off. They were made of wood and demonic flesh, spewing black mist with every wound.

The Mimic finally collapsed after being chopped and burned to pieces, spilling a few items from its slack and ruptured wooden body. Most of it were Lifegems and some gold coins, but two artifacts in particular caught their attention. The first was a Work Hook like Chloanne used, but tainted by the poison of its surroundings, making any wound inflicted by it fester badly. The ore trader happily swapped her old one with it. The second was a pair of gauntlets made of black metal and bone that radiated Dark magic. Whatever had made them, it was unlikely they'd done so for a good purpose. Still, equipment was equipment, and if nothing else they could sell it to Maughlin.

Ragged and out of Estus, the trio was extremely happy to find a bonfire hiding up the stairs the Red Phantom had guarded. Perched above the entryway to the fog gate, it had a surprisingly good view of the devastation wrought by Erik. Chloanne's Mimic bites healed up quickly with the application of mystical fire, and the Undead chose to relax for a moment before heading down to their next fight.

"Are we ready to face whatever is down there?" Erik asked after a moment, and his companions nodded. Erik shrugged off his backpack and chest and left them leaning against the wall of the bonfire. He wasn't worried about the Hollows, as the bonfire's magic repelled those without humanity and minds, but he was worried about them being looted or stolen by another Undead.

Still, he did not want to be weighed down by the heavy Bottomless Box, and moved his most important items to the pouch around his waist and the pockets in his trousers.

"We're ready," Lucatiel confirmed, and Chloanne nodded in agreement. The three of them proceeded down to the lower level, stabbing the Hollows as they passed to keep them down for a bit longer. The passage way to the fog gate was down an extremely long and rough tunnel, and contrasted with the neat and professional job of the surrounding constructions.

"Here goes nothing!" Erik cried, and he slipped through the clammy mists to face the ruler of this area. His eyes widened as he saw what he was supposed to face.

Acid green scales slithered over a poison stained platform ringed by a shallow moat of oozing toxic waste. Golden jewelry, tarnished by the harmful liquids around the area, hung loosely around neck and wrists. A naked upper torso of a woman, covered in greenish skin, undulated seductively. A long, sturdy spear was held tightly in the right hand, while a decapitated woman's head was held aloft by her black hair in the left. Bile rose to his throat as he saw the stump still bled, and the head was still alive, golden reptilian eyes darting around before resting on the intruding chef and his companions. They widened as she stared as Erik, utterly ignoring the others. With the lower body of a snake and the mangled upper torso of an enchanting woman, the mistress of the Earthen Peaks loomed tall.

Before them was the second wife of the Old Iron King; Mytha the Beautiful, twisted and corrupted into a demonic form. Her transformation into a full Demon was not complete, perhaps because she was headless and Undead. Indeed, the Darksign burned brightly between her large and perky breasts. Erik did not have time to appreciate anything more than that as the queen let out a piercing scream as she hurled herself at the chef.

Screeching, she jabbed rapidly with her spear, forcing Erik to dodge. Summoning a Fireball he hurled it and watched in satisfaction as it burst over her flesh and ignited into a raging and spreading inferno! The poison that had been smeared into her skin over centuries was extremely potent, but also flammable. The Pyromancy's flames spread rapidly, and the demonic queen howled in pain before throwing herself into the shallow pool around the circular room. The liquid toxins smothered the flames, and to the Undead's dismay the burns were slowly healing as well.

"Keep her away from the poison!" Erik shouted as the snake-woman rose and hissed at the chef. Again she lunged, trying to crush and kill him, but the cook was nimble and he avoided her attacks.

Letting lose a frustrated scream, the headless body raised her own severed head, holding it aloft like a talisman or charm the ancient Clerics had used to cast their Miracles. To Erik's shock the head glowed bright blue before she spat out a ravening beam of pure Sorcery that gouged a deep hole in the ground and that clipped the Undead chef's left leg as he tried to dodge.

Agony poured into Erik's mind as the magic burned away his thigh almost completely, leaving behind bone and dangling muscles, his foot barely attached. Erik paled in fear. There was no way he could avoid her attacks now! He only hoped the pain would be over soon. As soon as he fell the queen crowed in triumph and slithered over rapidly, utterly ignoring the damage done by a desperate Lucatiel and Chloanne.

Mytha was upon him in minutes and she picked him up and shook the chef violently, dropping her spear in order to grab him.

"POOOTTTSSSS!" The twisted woman roared, right into Erik's ear, and he blinked in surprise. She… knew him?

"You! You did this to me!" She screamed, slamming the Undead into the floor before forcing him up to stare at her severed and still talking head. As the knightess and merchant ran over, she flicked her tail contemptuously and hurled the two women back, eyes still locked onto the cook.

"What…"

"See this?!" Mytha howled, before smashing Erik's face into her stomach. Now he was officially perplexed. "This is all your fault!"

"What, the snake stuff?! I didn't do that to you!" Erik protested.

"Don't lie, you know what you did!" Mytha threw Erik to the ground. She then used her free hand to grab her stomach, smooshing it around and gripping onto some flesh.

"Do you see this?! Fat! This is fat! You made me fat! This is all because of your food!"

Erik was starting to understand, and he raised a hand to forestall Lucatiel and Chloanne rushing to his rescue again.

"Your majesty, I think you are mistaken! I am not Donovan Potts!"

"Don't keep lying to me! I know it's you! I'd recognize that dreamy face and those rugged hands anywhere!"

Erik felt a shiver run up his spine at her words, and despite the danger the knightess and ore trader paused and shared a look.

"My name is Erik Potts of Lindelt, Queen Mytha! Donovan Potts was my ancestor about six hundred plus years ago!" The chef cried, trying to make her understand.

The fury in the queen's eyes dimmed slightly and she shoved her head closer to Erik and peered at him closely. Seconds trickled by in agonizing slowness and the suspense only grew. Mytha's eyes widened as she saw something in the young Undead.

"You… you're not him…" Her shoulders slumped and her whole body seemed to collapse under intense sorrow and weariness. "Six hundred years… has it really been that long?"

"I'm afraid so, your Majesty. And a lot has happened since then. Alken is gone, the Old Iron King is dead, Drangleic is withered and King Vendrick is vanished," Erik said softly, trying to keep his mind off the hole in his leg as he spoke. Lucatiel and Chloanne kept their weapons at the ready, but took on relaxed stances. It seemed this monster just wanted to talk.

"Castor is dead?" Mytha whispered, staring at Erik. "How did my husband die?"

"I do not know, exactly. From what I've gathered it appears that the volcano may have become active again and tainted by Chaos. Lava apparently swallowed the Iron Citadel and its surroundings and the king died fighting off a Demon." Erik's words were backed by the memories of the Skeleton Lords of the Huntsman's Copse, as one of the three had escaped the devastation to inform his co-conspirators.

Mytha stared at Erik for a long time before grunting in understanding. She waved her hand and the fog dissipated from the doors.

"Leave me. I wish to be alone in my grief," she commanded, and Lucatiel and Chloanne were happy to take her up on that offer.

"Are you sure?" Erik asked, hesitant to leave. It didn't feel right to him, leaving anyone alone to grieve.

"GO! I do not want your false sympathies and concern!" She ordered, glaring at the chef.

"I may not be Donovan Potts, but I am his descendant, and I am a chef following in his footsteps. He did something to you, and I want to apologize on his behalf," Erik said firmly.

The smack of two palms meeting faces echoed in the cavernous room. Lucatiel and Chloanne could not believe this! Was he really trying to make a demonic woman feel better about something his ancestor had done?!

The queen looked at Erik strangely, as if she couldn't figure him out. A thin smile graced her lips, and she sighed.

"Just like Donovan. Always butting in and trying to make people happy with food," She said with a faraway look to her eyes. She then turned her gaze to the prone chef. "What can you make?"

"What do you want?" Erik responded.

"…late." Her voice was low, and a she had a complicated look on her face.

"Pardon?"

"I want chocolate!" Mytha said, louder this time and with red on her cheeks. It made her face look sickly and purple, but Erik chose not to mention that. Instead he pulled out his ancestor's cookbook and leafed through the pages, before settling on a recipe.
"You're in luck, we just happened to come across some cocoa beans. I'll be able to make something wonderful," Erik promised. He tried to stand but fell flat on his rear, having forgotten that his left foot was practically gone. Mytha had the decency to look sheepish and apologetic, and Lucatiel sighed.

"I'll grab your stuff, Erik. Just drink some Estus and wait for me." The knightess sheathed her blade and strode out of the room to fetch the Bottomless Box and pack full of cooking tools and ingredients.

Erik took her advice, draining his flask of the golden liquid flames and sighed in relief as his mangled leg was restored. As for Mytha, the serpent-queen reattached her head to her shoulders with a squelching sound that made the ore trader and chef slightly queasy. The Queen of Alken then proceeded to clap loudly, and to the Undead's shock numerous Headless Manikins appeared.

"These Undead here and the woman from Mirrah are not to be harmed! They are my guests! Spread the word! And bring me some chairs, tables, and a stove and oven! In fact just bring me the contents of my kitchen and set it up in here!" The queen commanded, her voice a powerful bellow that sent the automata scurrying off to complete her requests.

"You can order those things around?" Chloanne asked in surprise, before shrinking in on herself as the serpant-woman turned to look at her.

"This is Chloanne, an ore trader. She is very knowledgeable about stones, minerals, gems, and metals. She is one of my dear friends and valuable companions," Erik hastily introduced, hoping his endorsement would protect her. "And the knightess of Mirrah was Lucatiel, another close friend and longtime partner in my journey."

"Charmed to meet you," The queen said somewhat dismissively. She still looked at the woman as if examining her before offering an explanation.

"I do not know the secrets behind their creation, but Castor was always fascinated by both golems and the Undead. In his youth he plundered Heide for its ancient techniques of golem-crafting and stole knowledge from Venn to construct these servants. They will obey the voice of anyone registered as their master. They also recognize souls, and so attack those who they deem as a threat unless told otherwise. My husband and I could control them, along with Sir Alonne and maybe one or two others from time to time as needs arose. Castor's son was a genius you know. He made and designed these ones, as well as many others. Though after he was locked away I do not know if he made any more," Mytha said, flashes of melancholy assailing her as she remembered the past.

"Fascinating," Chloanne mumbled, when the clink and clatter of metal told them that Lucatiel was back with Erik's supplies.

"I assume her majesty has something to do with the headless dolls running around and not attacking me?" the knightess inquired, and everyone nodded in the affirmative.

"Glad to hear it. Nearly had a heart attack when some of them popped up nearby." She removed the box and pack and placed them before Erik, who smiled in thanks before rummaging around for ingredients.

"That's Chancellor Torvin's Bottomless Box!" Mytha shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the chef. "How dare you plunder my friend's belongings!"

"He's a Demon now, so it's not like he was using it," Erik retorted snidely, before paling as he saw Mytha lean in.

"What did you say?!"

"H-he turned into a large slug-like Demon! He was guarding the entrance to the rest of this place!" Erik explained quickly, and the queen stared long and hard at Erik. Her golden eyes shimmered with sparks of silver for a moment before she grimaced and pulled away.

"I see. I thought that soul you carried was familiar. But… to truly give in to Chaos? When did it happen?"

"I think he started changing after the fall of Alken," Erik guessed. The Covetous Demon's memories were foggy at best and determining an exact time for events in them wasn't possible.

"There was a large and sudden influx of Chaos energy, but I was… distracted at the time," Mytha said softly. "By the time I realized what was going on around me, I had become this!"

She gestured in disgust at her body, her tail lashing around angrily. The knightess and ore trader showed sympathetic expressions, and Erik's face twisted up in empathic pain.

"I'm sorry," Erik whispered softly. He looked up as loud banging and thumping started to echo around them, and he saw dozens of Headless Manikins swarming about, carrying chairs, a large table, and a portable oven and stove.

"Cook," Mytha demanded, though her tone was somewhat softer and kinder than before. Still forceful though, but not as bad.

As Erik pulled out the bits and pieces he would need, Mytha slithered over to her spot at the head of the table and beckoned for Lucatiel and Chloanne to join her.

"Come, sit and inform me of what has changed while I was not aware of it," she requested, and the two Undead filled her in as best they could, taking seats to the side of her.

The time passed by quickly as the women went from talking about world history and politics to stories about their lives and jobs. All the while Erik cooked, managing the various ingredients necessary for one of the finest dishes he could create!

"I hope I am not being rude, your Majesty, but what exactly did Donovan Potts do that made you so mad?" Chloanne asked after a moment, and Mytha tensed up before sighing.

"To be honest, it is very petty. And to understand it you'll need some history to fully get the context."

The snake-woman leaned back, resting on her coils as she gathered her thoughts.

"To start with, allow me to fully introduce myself. I am Mytha Shevara Nolmestris Helanvi, eldest child of King Radavire II and crown princess of Jugo." The three Undead listened with awe. Story time was best time!

"I was born a few years before the Giants invaded Drangleic, and was seventeen when the war ended. My father had fought beside the armies of the Old Iron King and earned his approval. In a bid for favors and power, my father offered me as a bride to Castor, and the lord of Alken accepted despite being over three times my age." Mytha paused, looking over her audience. "When I was twenty, I was sent to Drangleic to become a queen. Accompanied by my handmaidens, an elite cadre of Desert Sorceresses sworn to serve my family, I made my way to the land of gods and heroes. I quickly learned I was not welcome."

The queen's face turned sour as she remembered her time there. "King Castor's first wife, Prince Carlyle's mother, died in the first days of the Giant Invasion, slain when the Giant's attacked the Great Wharf while she was attending a ball. He never got over it, and even though he accepted me as a second wife, he never forgot her. He was cold, and the war had hardened him to the point where he wasn't capable of showing emotions. His moniker of "Old Iron King" referred to more than just his love for the metal and war. He also never smiled, laughed, or showed enjoyment towards anything."

"Prince Carlyle was already a young man at this point, and we became friends after a fairly cold start. He loved the princess of Venn and I secretly helped him send messages to her. I believe that is what made him come to like me. Chancellor Torvin, who oversaw most of the day to day workings of the kingdom, praised my efforts to better myself and slowly became a dear friend. Other than them I had few true companions. The rest of the nobles thought I was beautiful, and I was without a doubt a vision of beauty, but they thought I was naught but a trophy! A decoration to look pretty, with no brains or talents. I already was a skilled Pyromancer and Sorceress in my own rights, and later took to learning weapons to try and find a way to please my husband. But nothing worked."

"In Chancellor Torvin's memories I came across mention of a 'mistress' for the Old Iron King. What was that about?" Erik asked, speaking up for the first time. He instantly regretted it as Mytha slammed her fist into the table, denting the black iron with the force of her blow.

"It was a few years into my life as queen when I learned about this. Apparently, Castor fell in love with a mysterious woman many years ago when he was fighting the Giants. But he could not marry her for some reason or another, and kept her around hidden as a lover while he was married to another woman. Me. It was Carlyle who told me of this, and I was furious when I found out! I was giving my all to him, to please him in every way! I was one of the best spear fighters in the Citadel, praised by Sir Alonne himself! My magic was the rival of Duke Aldia and the Priestesses of Eluem Loyce, and I spent hours keeping myself beautiful for him! And yet he spurned all of my advances and efforts in favor of this 'Nadalia' woman!" Mytha's eyes were literally glowing with her rage, and the table started to hiss and steam as her hands pulsed with raw magic.

Lucatiel and Chloanne shot Erik a scathing look and he just shrugged helplessly.

"Do you know, he never once slept with me, or even in the same bed?! He refused to even touch me!" Mytha hissed, the venom in her voice causing the three listeners to recoil. "Was I not enough for him?! Were my achievements nothing in his eyes?! What did that harlot have that I did not!?"

It took a few minutes for the queen to calm down, and the end result was that the Manikins needed to replace the crushed remains of the table with a whole new one.

"Sooo… Donovan?" Erik tentatively asked, drawing the 'o' out for all it was worth. Mytha sighed, calm at last, before continuing her tale.

"In time, I grew increasingly isolated. Castor invaded Venn and wiped it off the map. Carlyle was locked away in his tower, which he later converted to a Belltower in secret, imprisoned for trying to save the princess of Venn from his father. Chancellor Torvin became distant, unsure of how to help me now that his workload was quadrupled thanks to the acquisition of Venn's land and resources. It was at this point that a young, wandering chef came to Alken."

"He was smart, charming, charismatic, kind… he was a wonderful person, and his cooking was divine." A tiny bead of drool appeared at the corner of Mytha's mouth, before she noticed and wiped it off while blushing. "Anyways! The true mark of his talents was how he managed to charm Castor himself. For the first time ever, I saw him smile after eating one of his dishes. You should have seen the nobles! Their jaws hit the floor in shock! Mine too, but that is beside the point. He spent six months in Alken, studying cuisine and local ingredients. And through it all, Donovan met with me and cooked and listened. He was… how can I describe him? He was the first man in a long time to pay attention to me as more than a queen or a pretty face, and he genuinely wanted to make me feel better."

"As for why I acted so… aggressively with you, Erik, is because I may have gained some weight. A lot of it, really." She looked down at her hands and lap in embarrassment. "His food was so good! I just could not stop eating, and he just kept cooking! A vicious cycle!"

Lucatiel and Chloanne shared understanding looks with the native of Jugo. They also knew the dangers of having too much good food.

"After he left, I met with Castor for the first time in several weeks, and he took one look at me, and you know what he said? 'You've got some meat on your bones!' The very first thing he says to me in days is that?! I was furious and I locked myself away in here afterwards."

As Lucatiel and Chloanne made soothing comments, Erik blinked, and then sighed. Did she really not understand what the king was saying? Women!

He checked his preparations for the dish, and smiled. Just one more touch, and he'd be finished. Carefully, Erik reached out with his left hand and held his palm over the still hot food. With lips pursed in concentration, he siphoned out the heat from the treats so they cooled rapidly and without need for an icebox as was normally required to finish this particular sweet. But he couldn't do it too fast or the food would crack and crystalize and thus ruin the taste. Gently, he took control of the heat, and with a sigh of relief, he moved his hand away. Finally, it was done!

"Presenting one of Donovan Potts' master-class desserts; Chocolate Bonbons stuffed with an assortment of delectable fillings!" With a flourish, Erik revealed a large silver platter covered in dark brown orbs, before placing it before the queen. Mytha gasped in joy and hesitantly reached out for the treats, as if afraid they were illusions that would shatter if she touched them. When the bonbons did not vanish when she picked one up, her smile grew even wider and she popped it in her mouth. A sensual moan of satisfaction rolled off her tongue, and the three Undead shifted a bit at a sudden wave of awkward. Erik swallowed a lump in his throat as Mytha quickly devoured the offered sweets, groaning in pleasure as the taste swept over her.

The chef discreetly passed out some of the chocolate treats to Lucatiel and Chloanne and they accepted gratefully. The taste was unlike anything they'd ever tasted. Rich and creamy with an intoxicating sweetness that melted in the mouths. The two women soon could not hold back and they moaned as well in pleasure.

Each bonbon was unique, and filled with a different addition. Fruit preserves, honey, a darker, richer chocolate, a touch of brandy… there was so much to taste and try, and none of the women wanted to put the food down.

In moments, their plates were empty and they gazed with pleading eyes at Erik for just a bit more. The chef obliged, presenting the final treat of the day; Soul Cake. Forth of the Four Divine Dishes Donovan Potts had created, it used extremely rare and potent ingredients to bring out the ultimate flavor.

Wheat flour was mixed with ground up Yellow and Red Burr kernels to add more substance to the batter while also letting the yeast rise faster with less heat which would preserve the taste of the rest of the ingredients. Eggs from Giant Ravens were cracked and their yolk added to the mix. Goldenfruit preserve was mixed with honey made from Lanternbell Flowers and then chocolate was added to the mixture, creating an impossibly sweet tasting icing. While normally this would be off-putting, the flavor was held in check by a generous application of Skeptic's Spice. The red colored seasoning was extremely rare, and while normally used to create and boost the power of Miracles for people with weak faith, it had another ability; to make whatever it is added to taste like the opposite. For example, something sweet would become sour on the tongue while anything bitter would become savory. Balanced with other ingredients a skilled chef could make food prepared with Skeptic's Spice taste like two different and opposing flavors, resulting in a symphony of flavors. And Erik was just such a chef.

The final ingredient of Soul Cake was, of course, a soul. Because this would normally be hard to obtain, most versions of this dessert skipped this part. But not today. Erik had infused the batter and icing with a Large Soul of a Hero, the largest and most precious soul he'd collected so far. But it would be worth it.

Erik placed the Soul Cake in front of Mytha, and her eyes suddenly teared up as she looked down on it. It wasn't very large, as the chef from Lindelt had to ration what he had, but that did not matter. It practically glowed in the firelight, and a warm, comforting scent rose from it. Colored fruit juice had been used to draw a picture on the top of the cake, and it showed a depiction of the emblem of the Jugonan royal family; a red and purple snake intertwined around a palm tree.

Reverently, Erik cut the fairly small cake into four pieces, with one of them clearly larger than the others. He placed them onto tiny ceramic plates and passed them out to the others.

"Queen Mytha, on behalf of the Old Iron King and countless awkward men around the world, I want to apologize; what he said to you that day was not an insult. It was a compliment."

Watery eyes looked at Erik in confusion, and he explained.

"I actually saw the same thing happen while in Lindelt; word for word. Instead of a king though it was a member of the City Watch trying to talk to a maid. Military men are a strange breed; they value strength. And what is a sign of strength but not muscles and a slightly larger bulk? Your Husband, by your own admission, did not show emotions. He was trying to give you a compliment in the only way he knew how."

At this, Mytha began to openly weep, tears dropping onto the cake, smearing the icing picture.

"A-are you certain?"

"Yes," Erik said simply, and the queen trembled as sobs wracked her body. Lucatiel and Chloanne couldn't hide their own tears, and they cried along with the tortured queen. Erik, as a man, fought tooth and nail to keep his own emotions from showing. The single drop of water running down his cheek was just sweat from working hard all this time! Not a tear!

Slowly, Mytha ate her portion of the Soul Cake, savoring the divine taste that blessed her at that moment. The chef, knightess and ore trader did so as well, letting the miracle of flavor wash over them.

All of a sudden, Mytha began to glow brightly, a piercing white light enveloping her! She did not seem to notice until her slice of cake was gone, and she just looked at herself in befuddlement. The glow grew more intense until there was a burst of pure whiteness that swallowed up the entire room!

As their sight returned, Erik hurried over to where the snake queen had been to check on her, bending down to take a closer look at her body only to stop short and stare at the scene before him. Lucatiel and Chloanne hurried over as well but froze just like the chef at what they were looking at.

Mytha lay there, but her body was very different to how it had been. Her snake tail and scales had vanished, leaving behind flawless chocolate colored skin. Her raven hair was long and luscious, even more so than before, and it had a sheen and bounce that made the other two women's hearts stir with envy. Where there once had been a scar where her neck detached, now there was nothing, not even a blemish. The only thing that marred her beautiful body was the Darksign, still glowing banefully between her cleavage. However the most important aspect of this new transformation was that she was completely naked. Only her golden jewelry was on her, and that did not manage to cover or hide anything. At all.

With a groan the queen stirred, sitting up and causing breasts that made Chloanne's look small to jiggle. She licked ruby red lips, moistening them with her tongue in a way that made the simple act look erotic. She was tall, standing over eight feet and her soul clearly a powerful one. The once-serpent blinked and looked around, taking in the shocked stares with a look of puzzlement that quickly morphed into embarrassment and a shriek of surprise as she took in her lack of clothing. She looked over at the chef from Lindelt with a scandalized blushing glare, before voicing her opinions of his voyeurism with a loud, echoing slap across Erik's face that sent him flying.

"Clothes. Now." She hissed through clenched teeth, and Lucatiel and Chloanne quickly rummaged around their packs and removed pieces of the Desert Sorceresses outfits for her to try on. They were small but that problem was remedied with a spell from the queen that altered their size and proportions.

"Will someone please explain what just happened?" Mytha inquired, looking down at the trio of Undead. All their gazes drifted to Erik as he staggered back to his feet nursing a bruised cheek. Seeing them stare at him, the chef could only honestly admit what had occurred.

"Um… Magic?"