9. THE REBIRTH
"And wouldst thou say Lan'Tim is heavily guarded?"
Time was doing its lurching thing again. Violet could barely place herself. The torchlight hurt her eyes. Her time in the lit upper levels of the cave system was punctuated by immeasurable moments in the pitch darkness of the pit. In what could have been a month, she'd already been pulled up for questioning a few times. It seemed like they wanted to know about her homeworld Arcacia's defenses. These illagers would be stomped out immediately if they tried to raid Lan'Tim. It may have been better for Violet to encourage them, but it was so hard to lie with her soul suctioned. Instead the truth just spilled out weakly.
Sagan caught her dissociating again and leaned forward, "Violet?"
It was odd. The moment he switched from talking about Arcacia to the college, something in Violet's mind shifted: Suddenly she was there in Lan'Tim. Standing in the polished diorite halls between the tall statues of mobs, in the shimmering cyan firelight. She could see it so clearly, she was home.
"Violet!" His bark reeled her back finally.
"Lan'Tim is the prize jewel of Arcacia, it's under the direct protection of the Thestacrucian Empire. The army totals in the hundreds of thousands," she answered with a desultory voice.
"...and thee are not anyone important?"
"I'm just a researcher," Violet repeated for the umpteenth time. "They'd be willing to pay a ransom for me. My mother is someone special to the college... Selador Merridew..."
He thought about that for a moment then gave her a leering smile with yellowed teeth, "We doth not want more riches."
Violet feared but expected as much. There was nothing they could buy. This tribe was localised to Enim, which is what they called this world. There could be many names for it floating around, but it was as good an official title as any. Most testificates didn't know of other worlds so didn't think to name theirs. These ones unexpectedly had contact with others off-world. Violet couldn't imagine what could be gained in working with illager tribes on a scattered criminogenic world like this. She didn't have the energy to think on it either. More importantly, since Enim didn't have luxuries aside from what was crafted in villages or grew naturally, wealth could only get them so much with none of the villages united. What the illagers wanted was new territory to claim and more pillaging. If they had more imagination and better contacts she supposed they'd want to purchase cannons, artillery.
Violet and Sagan were having their interrogation in a makeshift room which was a natural formation in the cave. The ground was uneven but they probably mined the stone to make it relatively flat. That seemed largely the case in their de facto village; there were still a lot of stalagmites, outcrops and the hallways seemed mostly natural.
Sagan's brother Bronis stepped in then. Violet could hear activity from outside.
"There was a skirmish on the western front. Our party returned but the captain is wounded."
Violet blinked. Sagan looked at her then stood.
"Let's go."
Violet hated being thrown back into the darkness. Down there was nothing, nothing but her own thoughts. She'd broken down during her other interrogations, cried for them to not put her back down there. Somehow her thoughts were worse than being surrounded by the devils who'd plucked her from her former life. Wrenched her out, like a tooth. There was a recrudesce of clawing grief at these moments, but now she was also interested to know what'd befallen Zann. It was hard not to absorb everyone else's admiration for their fearsome leader, either that or Violet had truly become twisted.
She was seized by her arm and led out after Bronis. The corridor opened to one of the main caverns and there the illagers were anxiously crowding.
Violet had never been so outwardly loathed as she'd been during her walks out of and to her pit. She was living with a tribe who scorned and ridiculed her. She was used to being the odd one out in settlements, but not having a standing lower than bottom rung. This time there were no sneers or taunts, everyone was distracted. Even Sagan paused in deliberation, uncertain if he wanted to drop Violet into her prison now or to go take a look with everyone else. He made up his mind and pulled Violet with him over to the crowd.
Sagan pushed through, dragging Violet after. Soon she could see Zann. He was sitting and swigging from a bottle while an illager woman washed a deep shoulder wound as she undid his bandages. They had a needle and thread to stitch him up. No disinfectant, no proper medical supplies or magic.
"What about infection? Will the purifying water be enough, Tiril?" Jarmila was uncharacteristically vulnerable as she worried over him.
"I'll doth all I can," the woman Tiril was wide-set unlike the slender Jarmila, she seemed the hardy matron type.
"Sagan, why is the prisoner here?" Zann's eyes blazed. The illagers around Violet finally noticed her and gave their usual disdainful looks.
"Sorry, Sir…" Sagan nodded in shame, though his worry at the state of their leader remained. He turned and went to pull Violet away.
"I can help!" Violet yelled urgently. It worked, Sagan hesitated. Violet would do just about anything to prolong her time away from the darkness. She spoke more assuredly, "I can help him."
Jarmila strode over, she pushed some away and the rest backed off. Then she raised her serrated weapon to Violet's throat and she froze, eyes wide. Jarmila squinted without words, eyes full of distrust.
"Jarmila, halt thyself…" Zann spoke tiredly.
Jarmila remained there for a few seconds more before lowering her blade and Violet could breathe again. Tiril was curious but returned her attention to stitching the wound. Zann winced as she tugged at his skin and swigged more alcohol. Everyone there was waiting for Violet to explain herself.
Violet swallowed to dislodge her fear, "I can brew a healing potion… but I need supplies."
"What doth thou need?" Bronis's voice was careful and cut.
"A brewing stand, firstly."
"We hast a number of odd supplies in storage, perhaps one can be made?" Nedi spoke up, towering over the crowd.
"I'd need a crafting bench, a blaze rod, some cobblestone… you've probably pillaged that stuff right?" Violet asked and received nods.
"What else?" Bronis said.
She felt her hope sinking, "Nether wart… it turns bottled water into awkward potions, the base to make all others. Then I'd just need a glistering melon."
The latter might not be so impossible, but nether warts would be the rarest. Violet watched as they traded glances.
"Take her to the store room," Zann ordered, "And watch everything she does."
Jarmila stepped up at once, "Come."
Violet was seized hard enough for it to hurt and dragged backwards. She stumbled before righting herself, "H-hey!"
Jarmila was so focused that Violet decided not to resist at all. She let herself be pulled deeper down the cavern, around a bend, and then through an aperture. She looked up when she noticed the natural sunlight. A tiny ravine, just cracks. There was the roots of a stick bush's underside and a light sprinkling of sand from the desert wind. The granules floated down and it was oddly beautiful, seeing this mere hint of the outside. The sun was too bright.
Jarmila didn't shift her gaze from forward, but the smile showed she'd noticed Violet staring.
"Don't go getting any brave ideas. Even if thou managed the climb, we hast spies in all the surrounding villages."
Of course, but Violet said nothing.
She was soon pulled into another bowel of the cave and it was filled with all manners of pillaged stuff. Violet was thrust roughly at the junk and Jarmila crossed her arms and stood by the wall, angrily.
"Easy…" Violet massaged her sore wrist.
"Just make it. And keep in mind I be watching everything thou does."
Violet looked forward, still rubbing her arm, and quickly spotted the gold of a brewing stand. Violet stepped forward to investigate and saw it was broken. She didn't know how to fix it but she could use its pieces to make an entirely new one. From the look of it, the blaze rod was in tact. More importantly, Violet looked around for what she didn't have a hope of seeing. The reddish-purple otherworldly sprouts called nether warts. By a shelf she spotted something better: bottles of dark blue. She stepped over at once, popped the cork of one and sniffed. Ready-made awkward potions - this might actually be doable.
She looked back and spoke with more hope in her voice, "There's a lot of stuff here. Try to help me find a glistering melon. If not, eight gold pieces and a melon slice will do."
Jarmila just stared at her. Then she approached and before Violet could get proper nervous that sword was at her neck again in a flash. Then she was scared stiff.
"If thou thinks I will let thee out of mine sight for a second, thou are sorely mistaken."
Violet had enough of being pushed around at this point, she tried to put some authority into her tone: "Lower your weapon." In response Jarmila's eyes squinted. "I'm doing this to help your precious leader, so if you don't mind, lower it."
Violet's heartbeat was thudding. Jarmila's arm didn't budge. The tip touched the skin of her throat, and Violet regretted speaking up, but then the sword went away.
"Make the potion," Jarmila snarled.
Violet had to crawl over the wares in search of material. Then Nedi showed up to check on them. Neither had been enthused at letting Violet live in the first place, but she tried to comfort herself with the idea they wouldn't kill her so long as she was useful. They murmured by the door, but Jarmila still kept an eye on her. As Violet searched she kept hoping to see her crystal ball amongst the supplies, but no success. Surely it was here….
"Violet!" Jarmila called her by her name for the first time, "what didst thou quoth was needed for the ingredients?"
"Gold nuggets. Eight. And a melon slice."
Nedi nodded at Jarmila and he left.
Giving up on looking for chests, Violet swept her gaze over the stuff until she saw the brewing stand again. She pulled it out and away from the pile. She reached for the screws and burnt her thumb, yelping and popping it into her mouth. Jarmila was watching with no reaction.
"This gold rod needs to be removed from the rest of it, and it cannot be damaged. Do that and that'll be everything I need."
Jarmila nodded, then swept her arm for Violet to leave. Something caught her eye then, an open box full of nether warts. This tribe was curiously well-stocked with magical ingredients. Then again, if Wendiah could make potions they had to all be getting traded from somewhere. Violet left ahead of Jarmila who followed her.
Somebody got to work prizing apart the busted brewing stand for her. Violet was being watched but sat on a boulder, happily not thrown back into her dark prison yet. A young illager approached her, a little older than Everard had been, and he held out a wooden bowl of beetroot soup. Violet was too surprised to thank him, she just took it and he left without a word. She quickly ate and settled her aching stomach a bit.
Once the blaze rod was out Violet approached it and waved her hand, vanishing it into her inventory. She then took cobblestone that was piled out for her and got to work constructing the stand at the crafting table. It was no fine piece of work, and it took her a while to manipulate the materials through the magic interface. Still, a brewing stand was simple enough in concept. When Violet finished she thought it would be acceptable, even when it wobbled unsteadily as she placed it.
Bronis ran in then, "Zann has a fever."
Jarmila and Sagan's faces went as pale as his. Jarmila pushed by him on her way out.
Surely this should be seen as karma. Violet was going to die here, but at the very least she'd live long enough to see their captain die. And yet here she was, helping them in the hopes she might get in their better graces. But what else could she do? The brothers turned to her and Violet started brewing.
She attached a bottle to a clasp. It hung a little diagonal. Again, not expert craftsmanship but it would do. Soon enough it started to bubble from the heat. Violet went back to the crafting table and in under a minute fused the melon slice with the surrounding gold nuggets. She then made the glistering melon appear in her hand and placed it on the centre dish. It began to heat and dissolve, funnelling then through a tube that began dripping into the bottle of awkward potion. While it did she focused with her hands out. It was a lesser magic that Violet refused to think of as actual magic, but more like the same concepts that ruled inventory spaces. It was using her intention to utilise the game, or world powers. Minutes went by and the colour began to change, first to a light purple and then finally all of the shiny melon was dissolved and they had a mildly sparkling, scarlet brew.
"That be it?" Bronis demanded.
Violet unclasped it and held the red bottle to her eyes. It looked perfect.
"Yes. If you have glowstone dust, that would make it even stronger, but I think this will be enough." She looked at him and he looked back. "And the longer we keep Zann waiting the worse his fever's gonna get..."
"Then let us go," Sagan insisted.
They left and walked out into the main cavern. Illagers to the side watched Violet with suspicion. They were no longer mocking her, but nobody was willing to trust her yet either.
Zann was surrounded in a room by his most trusted. Among them was Jarmila who still was of the mind to glare at Violet on sight. The others were cautious, their suspicion restrained behind their reddish eyes. Tiril had her hands on Zann's forehead and shoulder, measuring his breaths. When she saw the newcomers she stepped away. Violet looked at Zann blankly and he returned her stare, as suspicious as any of the others. His grey skin was paler and he was taking shorter breaths.
"Thou made the healing potion, prisoner?" he growled.
"I did," Violet presented it.
Zann stared then turned on the slab of rock he was lying on, swinging his legs out and with some difficulty he sat up. The others rushed to help him and he lifted a hand to stop them.
Zann had to catch his breath. Testificate biology wasn't Violet's specialty, and illager biology even less. Still, it seemed like the infection had spread from his wound to his lungs.
"How long will it take to work, after I drink it?"
"It should work immediately," Violet answered him.
Jarmila edged closer, her hand on the hilt of her weapon, "If thou poisons him, thee will suffer a hundred deaths before thee actually gets to die," she hissed the threat.
Violet looked at her, and before she could form a response Zann had already snatched it and popped the lid. He turned his head back and emptied the whole potion down his throat. Violet looked back at him and Jarmila did too, with fear on her face. Zan turned his head back and wiped his mouth. His skin was already looking better. The gross puss dripping from his wound vanished and the skin began to heal around the stitches. His breathing began to deepen again.
"I feel… well." Zann said and at once those in the room began to relax.
Violet did too, "If you're not completely better, the symptoms will start to return, and then I'll just make another-" She was yanked and thrown into the rocky wall, scraping her head and a ridge was lodged against her back. Jarmila's sneering face was inches from hers.
"She plans to keep giving him potions! She plans to-!"
"That's enough, Jarmila!" Zann roared with renewed strength.
Others in the room prized her off Violet who swayed, steadying herself against the wall. Her body felt bruised and she touched the back of her head, drawing her hand out to see the stain of red on her fingers. Jarmila stood with each arm and her shoulders seized, still for the moment but huffing and glaring at the ground. Zann was on his feet now and he turned to Violet.
"Are thou alright?"
She was shocked by the softness in his voice. He was heads taller than her and close in the relatively small room. Violet touched the back of her head again to make sure and then just nodded.
Zann spoke again in that tender way, "I thank thee for saving me, Violet. In return, if thou has a request in my power to grant, I shall do so. Speak."
She blinked. This whole situation was confusing enough, and the recent head-bashing wasn't helping.
"Um… my freedom?"
A few in the room chuckled.
"I cannot grant that. We still need to present thee to our ally."
"C-can I write a letter for back home?"
"I cannot grant that either," Zann shook his head and Violet could see the gratitude was fading.
They wouldn't allow her to send a coded message. She could think of nothing clever at the moment, relaxing into a sigh she asked for the only permissible thing she could think of.
"I don't want to go back in the pit."
"If that is thy request, I shall grant it. We'll find thee a new section of the cave, further from the entrance but on the same level as the rest of us. We shall increase thy food rations too."
Violet liked the sound of that and nodded. No longer starving or being trapped in total darkness were in fact lovely rewards, the more she thought about it. Jarmila looked very bitter. It didn't give Violet satisfaction, it just made her worried for whatever the crazed illager might do next. As for the others in the room, half stared neutrally while the rest countervailing this, had obvious approval in their gazes.
"Sagan, find her a room," Zann ordered.
"Yes, Sir." He took hold of Violet's arm.
"As for me, I must send word from the aviary..." Zann walked out and the other illagers followed after, still fussing. Jarmila glared as she went by.
Tiril stayed back to put away her supplies.
Sagan looked at Violet and after a hesitation he released her arm.
"Follow me."
Violet stared in surprise, then nodded.
She was led back out and through the wide populated caverns, now noticing tents and bedding, many in pockets dug into the walls. Rope ladders hung from these and there were curtains for privacy. There were also basins that were filled with water for washing clothes or fires for warmth. Surrounding people were whitling with knives, talking in groups, building, thatching or simply lying together on the boulders. She could see water flooding down from the walls at certain places where source cubes had been planted to make streams. They cascaded into rock pools that were somewhat private and possibly used for bathing. At the far side were animals and instead of pens they were leashed to a post with dry food and water in holes for them. Maybe Violet was seeing more because this was the longest she'd ever been out of the pit, or maybe it was because the blind terror she'd lived in for the past month was finally starting to ease. She looked at a sitting camel that looked back, its stomach expanding as it breathed.
The illagers working and climbing around the cavern had been sent back after seeing Zann was well. Their leader didn't want to celebrate with them but had tasks to do. Instead of casting suspicious glances at Violet… she was now being ignored. It was a nice feeling, this slow gaining of acceptance and trust. It reminded her of what her expatriations were supposed to be. They walked down the middle where it was fairly even, it declined deeper but didn't get darker with the torches everywhere lighting up the grey insides. Violet started to notice veins of coal and copper, also dug-out areas where they would've mined the more useful ores like iron. They went down a passage that thinned and some illagers walked by, glancing at them, but it was mostly empty.
Violet's cave room was shown to her. It was the same size as her first house, small, but it had bedding and an accidental outcrop for sitting, or if she was ever given a chair, it could become a writing desk. A lone torch burned in an upper corner. No chest or anything else, but it was much better than the pit. Violet looked around and then turned to Sagan.
"Someone will come round to feed you. Thou're not to be around the others, and thou're not to wander."
"Thank you…" Violet said and he nodded then turned away. Violet hadn't been given an opportunity to ask a question. She wasn't sure asking anything would be welcome but wanted to test the waters anyway. She watched him go before deciding to try her luck on an impulse, she jumped to the doorway, "Sagan?"
He turned back.
Violet asked, "...who is your tribe fighting, to the west?"
He gave a half-smile, half-grimace, "Tis best thee don't ask questions." Then he continued off.
Violet turned back into her room. It might've been useful to know, but mostly Violet wanted to measure how strict her prisoner status was. No questions. But no bolted door either. Her pit sentence remitted on the proviso she doesn't leave that room... Granted, even if she escaped there was nowhere to go if all the nearest villages had spies. A downside of non-human populated worlds were the lack of any kind of helpful census tracts. Regardless, Violet had the sense now to accept that getting out of here involved no running. She needed to get her hands on her crystal ball again, and that was all. But she couldn't just ask for it. Lying that it was a precious heirloom that kept her calm wasn't likely to be believed. And Violet wasn't sure she could lie convincingly about it either - too much pressure. She needed to somehow find out where they were keeping it, and get to it without them realising its significance. Send one message for help to Augustus's team, that's all she'd need to do to get out of here.
Violet wandered to her bedding and sat. After sleeping on nothing but stone it was terribly comfortable, she fell back against it.
If the crystal ball was thrown out, lost, destroyed… Violet didn't want to think about it. She shook her head at the ceiling. No, these people were hoarders. Unusual things like that, they were possibly kept in Zann's personal quarters, wherever that was. The crystal ball couldn't be easily destroyed either, it would take a powerful spell. If there wasn't a special part of the caves where they kept the more valuable stuff, then it was just thrown haphazardly in that junk room. Maybe in one of those boxes with the nether warts. Or maybe the same illager who committed that larceny was still holding onto it…. Violet sighed in defeat, she had no idea where it was and only guesses.
When she passed that train of thought on for another, her eyes wet with tears. She thought of the dead villagers and once more felt like a traitor. Bad enough that she'd led death straight to them, but she'd spurned them further by healing the one who led the charge. Feeling another crying jag coming, she turned over to muffle her sobs into the bedding. She cried for several minutes until someone came to give her food.
Unfortunately, it was Jarmila.
"Crying?" Jarmila said neutrally and Violet sniffled in response. That cruel smile slowly returned to her features, "Thinking of thy friends whomst we killed?"
Violet's expression and hands closed up, but she could feel her eyes getting shinier with the tears she repressed.
Jarmila sauntered in, carrying a steaming tray. When Violet sniffed at it her stomach ached with desire. Jarmila jumped and scooted so she was sitting on the flat rock.
She was still smiling, "they all be celebrating what thou did. They killed a cow, so we all hast steak, steamed carrots and potatoes, baked bread. This actually be a smaller portion…"
Violet could peer over, it looked like a big portion to her.
Jarmila leaned closer, "I know thou believes thee can get out of here by warming up to Zann. Tisn't going to work. I shall be watching thy every move, always. I do not, and I shall never trust thee, prisoner." From first name basis back to 'prisoner' again. The smile didn't leave and Violet said nothing, just watched her like she was a deadly and unpredictable animal, and she basically was. Jarmila stared back then said, "Enjoy the food."
She scooted off and was swinging her arms on her way out the door.
Violet looked at the tray with sad acceptance. It looked like a marvellous feed, but she wouldn't eat it. Notch only knows what Jarmila did to it. Violet had been given that beetroot stew by an illager child before, so she wasn't starving at the moment. She fell back into her bedding and turned over. The tears flowed again, but she wouldn't allow herself to break into sobs. Jarmila made her nervous enough to want to keep her hearing and other senses unobscured. Despite the fact she had an enemy who by the looks of it would never be persuaded to lessen her vigilance, Violet would still have to do her best to get her hands on her crystal ball. If the others continued to trust and like her, maybe in another few months she'd be able to succeed in this.
。。。
【AN: Am glad I could finally get this done. Stuff came up that made it harder to write, including getting sick. I'm thankful to Shuriken16 for reviewing chapters one to three! No thanks to She Who Loves Pineapples who skimmed the entire thing for context but still managed to get it insanely wrong. Here's hoping that if Shuriken16 gets to here he's still liking it after, well, everything.】