Chapter 8: Ayla
No fucking way. Praise the lady. But no fucking way... Krotia sighed a soul-rending sigh as she questioned fate for the umpteenth time that day, her reluctant feet carrying her equally reluctant body forward, surrounded by a phalanx of the Dark Lady's Imperial Battle-Magi; the finest mages in the land. Why a squad of thirteen escorts was needed for one person was beyond her; the Dark Lady was an enigma.
Why she had been summoned right as she was about to take a long-overdue holiday was also baffling, as well. Her next mission, due to start in three weeks' time, had been re-assigned. For all intents and purposes, Krotia was out of a job.
It was shaping up to be a very,very weird day. Interesting dependent.
The castle's interior didn't help her mood, either. Although that should have been obvious.
Krotia had long since given up on feeling inadequate; being surrounded by so much wanton opulence disoriented the assassin in strange ways and the soft footfalls of booted feet on the lush carpet which itself probably cost more than she would earn in a lifetime only served to remind her that she was insignificant in every ways possible.
But to be fair, the castle had been designed with that very goal in mind; massive wall-high tapestries showing portraits of Dark Ladies before stared down at her imperiously, immortal arch mages hovered to and fro, the very air they breathed out infused with magic, towering above them all. Every corner was made of silver; every doorway arches of gold; gemstones set along the walls gave illumination through enchanted, magical light. Even the foot soldiers guarding the gates wore the finest armor and spot-clean boots; spot-clean boots that demonstrated their zero experience in any kind of realistic battle. Bunch of retards...
Krotia had allowed herself a little smirk at that.
But the best part, in her opinion- the saving grace of this gigantic farce of a waste of monies better spent on other things like improving the quality of the fucking food on the frontline- the best part was that everything. The armor, the tapestry, the carpet, the wall paint, the light from the gemstones, the scabbards of the soldiers' swords...
Everything was pink.
Pink!
From under the shadowy hoods of their dark robes even Krotia could feel the Battle Mages all cringe as they led her up the final step leading into the castle grounds and after one moment of pin drop silence she broke out in hysterics, giggling kike she never did before as the Dark Castle before her radiated with a vibrant, positive pink. This Dark Lady was something else entirely, alright. Even the news of her being summoned to stand before the ruler of the Fallen Empire alone no longer rattled her as much; her curiosity at what the Dark Lady would be like won out over the butterflies fluttering joyfully in her stomach at this point.
Krotia had to admit that she was never one to give half a shit about politics. Her orders came from the Twilight Council; some said it was the real power behind the throne- others begged to differ. She cared about that as much as she cared about the way Igor was treating their last remaining prisoner after Irongate; hardly a modicum. Although four-o-three did look rather appealing lying on her arse in that stinky little cell, Krotia had to admit in a rare moment of self-reflection.
However, being on the front for the last years didn't necessarily mean she would be totally ignorant of all the happenings back home; there had been much fanfare a couple years ago due to the coronation of the new Dark Lady; Dark Lady Ayla the Sixth. She particularly remembered that because the Sefiro holed up at Irongate had decided to assault the Fallen encampments that very day amidst roasted lambs and free-flowing drinks. Blood had been the flavor of the day at the end of it all; her knives had found good uses.
The previous Dark Lady, Evelin the Third, had passed on due to a mysterious disease. Probably the exact same one that had afflicted and claimed every single Dark Lady before her; and would continue to claim the lives of everyone after, yada yada yada, unto time immemorial. Really, the Fallen reign had been steadfast for so long it often felt like the same Dark Lady continued ruling eon after eon, with only a change in the way she was being addressed. It was none of her business but... sometimes she cared more than Krotia would like to admit.
The concession halted before massive gold ornate doors. The black trims of it pulsed with life; magic, dark magic, Krotia realized; dark magic that responded to their presence by moving the door on its hinges, opening it oh-so-very-slowly. Krotia fingered the air around her hips, anxiously running her hand over what should have been the hilt of her trusty knives -taken away from her long ago as a 'security precaution'- and waited with bated breath.
Her sister would have chided her for looking like a finicky assassin on her first mission, judging from the way her eyes darted all over and her left pinkie trembled slightly.
Of course Krotia was none of that.
She just really wanted to know what her new ruler looked like.
(break)
3 hours ago, Dark Castle, Dark Lady Ayla the Sixth's Personal Grand Breakfast Hall...
'I'll have the spaghetti and meatballs, ayyyyyyy, get them outta here biggggg boysssss, huehuehuehuehue', cackled Ayla as she jumped onto Li's head and pulled his lips a part to make a big shit-eating grin appear. There was a maniacal smirk on her face, an insane glazed look upon her visage and a steak knife hovering through sheer force of will behind her head.
Li felt tomato spatter onto the collar of his uniform as Ayla shoved a juicy meatball into her little mouth with her hand and'om nom nom' rather audibly besides his ear. Giggling 'he he', through her filled mouth, the sixth Ayla in the line of the proud Empire pressed on her babysitter's back.
Li, resigned to his fate, fell over like a big black bear shot in the nuts with a tranquilizer harpoon gun and buried his face deep in toasts and eggs as the little girl on his head grabbed his long proud mane and jerked it like she was a dragon rider.
'Forward, my trusty steed!', she proclaimed as she snatched the knife out of the air and wiggled her butt. 'Charge!'
'Ayyyyyyy!', she urged him as he took one second to comprehend.
Ah, so he was a horse now then. He sighed in his head but smiled. Truly, his Dark Lady's imagination was boundless. Letting out a neigh, or as good a neigh as a seven foot two giant like him could muster with his deep baritone voice, Li hefted the entire girl's weight up with the mere lifting of his head and began galloping somewhat awkwardly around the eating hall. Thank the Lady, the servants and maids were dismissed; any and all would have been mortified to see their Dark Lady's childish antics so early in the day- the sun had just risen.
'Augh!', Ayla yelped as she slipped off him and hurtled towards the ground. Before she was even half way there though, one giant palm had caught her and put her back onto her 'mount'.
'Thanks Li Prince!', Ayla exclaimed happily as she giggled and levitated an entire plate of bacon to his forehead level. 'Here! Have some food!'
Li cringed slightly. He really did not like being called 'Prince', of all things. Lady forbid, where had she even come up with that? The kitchen staff, the palace maids, three Imperial Battle Magi and even Xeroth, the arch-mage responsible for guarding her majesty's toy room, had begun snickering and calling him Li Prince when they knew he could hear them. Very mature of that lot, and to think the Magus in charge of the 9000 toys collection was seven hundred and one years old. Ah... what a beautiful life.
He also pondered whether he should inform his Dark Lady that, sadly, no, horses do not eat bacon, but thought twice about it. The bacon was rather good, he dared bet; incompetent cooks got thrown to the Ravagers often and they had been getting more restless in recent days- a sure sign that cooks were improving massively.
As he got his teeth around one piece of bacon, the entire plate dropped. With a crash! and heart-wrenching sounds of broken cutlery, one tenth of the breakfast foods were decimated. Yay. More monies to be spent on replenishing the kitchen collection. The reason for the falling bacon had to do with Ayla focusing her attention elsewhere. Li felt his feet leave the ground as the girl's grip on his beard tightened. It hurt a little but he quickly realized he was being lifted off the ground.
'Dark Lady?'
'Shh... worry not, trusty steed! We shall jump over this canyon together!', she giggled on top of him as her voice grew thick with the pooling of intense magical energies, giving it an ethereal, other-worldly quality.
'Wha- WHOOSH!', his voice was drowned out as he felt his body being sucked into a tight tube. Purple and black flashes filled his vision as his voice died in his throat. The sensation of Ayla gripping his hair was gone, replaced by a weird sensation of nothingness.
One second later, the black portal spit them out onto a cliff overlooking the remnants of Mount Ashbourne.
...
The Dark Mountains canyon stretched out below, easily hundreds of feet wide and dozens of time as deep.
'Jump!', she cried with joy and dug her hands into his scales. She had weighed practically nothing before, but now his Dark Lady felt positively weightless on his back.
Scales?
Li took one wondrous moment to examine his gigantic clawed hands and felt the taste of fire broiling in his throat. He snorted without meaning to and steam shot forth from his barrel-sized nostrils.
The pebbles he exhaled on melted into orange little puddles.
Wow...
He stretched his wings and moved forward one ginger step. Something was different with his vision... it was not wrong though, just... different. Li finally understood what true tunnel vision felt like; he could only see straight ahead. Weird... The shadow of the dragon blocked the light from entering half the valley below.
Li launched off the cliff, massive wings spreading to full span as he caught the first updraft and flew upwards over Irongate, Dark Lady Ayla's excited yipping music to his ears as she raved with excitement.
'Oh yeah, that's right!', she yipped. 'Get 'em outta here biggggger boiss. Heheheheheheheeee!'
The sounds were alien to him. Li didn't really understand the tongue. But compelled by duty and loyalty, he readily agreed with his Dark Lady's command to 'Get 'em outta here biggerrrr boiss'. It had a nice ring to it. Even if it made about as much sense as... well... nothing.
Looked like Ayla did get to ride a dragon, after all.
(break)
Back to the present…
'All hail our Dark Lady, Empress of the free people, Vanquisher of the Sefiran Scourge, Mistress of the Black Arts, Vanguard against the Void, Tamer of the Ravager Horde, kneel, before Ayla the Sixth!'
Krotia heard the shuffling of fabric around her as no doubt everyone in her entourage also kneeled and bowed before their Dark Lady. Her eyes peeled to the ground; Krotia heard, rather than saw, her ruler stride towards her.
The footfalls were soft, exquisitely so- a small surprise for the assassin; her new Dark Lady surely had some really dainty little feet to walk to softly. A shadow stopped in front of her and little feet in crystalline heels came into her field of vision.
Little feet !?
'Ahh! Is this Crotia ?', a delightful little girl yipped from somewhere above her.
What the fuck?
For one brief moment Ayla wondered if she was dreaming. First of all, why was there what could only be a little girl's chirpy voice towering over her; where was the Dark Lady? And secondly of all, Crotia. Really? That made her name sound like a place or something- utterly atrocious.
As if to pile glory upon glory, she felt a small hand find its way onto her head.
*pat pat*
Did the little brat really just pat HER HEAD?
'I like your hair Crotia!', the little girl giggled. Krotia's eyes widened to saucer-like proportions; not out of surprise though, but rather out of outrage. It was not an understatement to say no man or woman has touched a hair on her head, literally, and gotten away with it. No living ones, that is.
Did she just pat my hair?!
In an alternate universe where the court announcer was currently excusing himself to go to the toilet, Krotia would have sprung up from her kneeling position, grab Dark Lady Ayla the Sixth by the throat and pinned the eleven year old girl to the ground to the mortified gasps of the battle Magi contingent. Too shocked to react to the suddenness of Krotia's actions despite their years of training; the battle Magi were only beginning to gather magical powers in their fists when a surprised and yelping Ayla's eyes would turn into purple bottomless pits and black tendrils would issue forth from the very air around them; as if conjured into existence through the opening of mini-portals to another dark dimension. Said tendrils would disembowel Krotia before she could even see them coming and toss her ruptured body well across the court to hit the distant wall seventy three feet away at five meters of height and hit with a sickening crunch! before her lifeless body would crumple to the ground. Utterly broken. And very, very dead. Then, before the slack-jawed Imperial Battle Magi, the dozens of black tendrils would retreat through quickly-closing dark portals and the Dark Lady's eyes would return to their normal state to leave a happily giggling Ayla skipping over to Krotia to survey her handiwork. Suffice to say, the Imperial Battle Mages in that court would never look at their Dark Lady the same way again.
As it was, in this universe, things were much more sunshine-and-rainbows in nature, and as Krotia was only thinking of jumping onto the offensive 'little brat', the court announcer who- thankfully- was not in the toilet, announced to Krotia to rise before her Empress.
It took her two and a half seconds to comprehend.
But she did not rise.
…
It was hard to rise when the Dark Lady put her hand very insistently on your head and took great delight in ruffling her hair. What am I, a dog now !?
And there it was again, Praise the Lady; another pat.
*pat pat*
She couldn't see or hear what the mages were saying, but she had an absolute conviction in the fact that the whole lot was giggling like morons on the inside as they watched with stolen glances how Krotia- famed assassin; right- some said it was left but seriously who gives a fuck- hand of the Twilight Council, was kneeling before and being patted like a little puppy by a positively beaming Dark Lady Ayla. The sixth, yes.
She rose.
To the mouth.
To the nose.
To the eyes.
Then above the eyes.
Wait what !?
Krotia, even at her diminutive five foot three, found herself staring down at the gigantic puppy dog eyes of her Dark Lady staring back up. Intense blue, the irises of which was colder than the coldest ice peaks of Mount Idra and yet- at the same time- radiating warmth; into which Krotia somehow felt herself being drawn, framed nicely by jet black hair and a cute little button nose above little pouting lips. She was leaning forward before she knew what she was doing- the Dark Lady's eyes were pulling her in, in, in…The abyss beckoned to her with images of her and Asri happily playing together in their younger days. When our mother was still around…. Her mom reached her hands out to her and little six-year-old Krotia found herself running towards her mother's open embrace. Her mother smiled…rows of razor sharp and clawed hands reached out to her. Come, Krotia… come to me.
She snapped out of it just as she was almost nose to nose with the Empress herself and jerked back.
Her back hit against an invisible barrier and she managed to stand up. Whipping around, she could see the very air itself had turned purple with magic and supported her. Turning back she yelped in the most uncharacteristic way possible as she found her Dark Lady's maniacally grinning visage pressed up almost right to hers yet again. The teeth were gone, the claws were gone. There was only the radiantly smiling little girl beaming up at her. For one moment Krotia doubted her sanity. Just as quickly as the thought came to her mind, it left.
'D-dark Lady', Krotia found herself stuttering as she immediately kneeled before her Empress again. She had to do something; anything, to break away from that hypnotic gaze- her very soul had been siphoned; or so it felt like. It was a disturbing technique even she- after six years of intensive training- was only beginning to grasp. That her Dark Lady was able to do so to her already was very unnerving.
From the sidelines deep within one of the shadowy cul-de-sacs, Li watched the proceedings and sighed. That assassin, that Krotia- she had turned a brighter beet red than the reddest red as his Dark Lady began patting her hair. While he could sympathize with Krotia to a certain extent, he was happy enough with standing where he was and observing Ayla's antics.
They could always be counted on to make him smile.
(break)
S.V's note to readers: (shout out to Six for inspiring the bulk of this chapter. And leeprince too. And xerath. Muahahahahaha.)
So yes! That will conclude chapter 8. A considerably more happy and light hearted one than probably all of the rest of them. While originally planned to be 7000 words, which is more than twice the length of this, League got in the way; I'm gold 4 trying to break gold 3 now; and I'm spending less time writing. As always, until next week, have a good one folks!