Where the Heart Is, Part 10
Before anything else, you spend some time relaxing with the Mother Vernier. Yvette is skittish and unsure of herself at first, still taken aback by how suddenly you've upended her entire life. You make sure to soothe her through her fears, calming her with your constant touch as the two of you lie in her bed. She looks up at you with timid eyes, but she makes no effort to flee. Indeed, she nestles closer into your arms, as your free hand traces lazily up and down her body.
"Why... why did you choose me?" she finally asks in a small voice. "Is there... something that you want me to do?" She looks conflicted, assuming that you must have some ulterior motive for seeking out someone as uninteresting and unimportant as her.
"You don't need to do anything for me," you assure her. "I sought you out because I knew that this was something you wanted. That this was something you needed. All I want is for us to enjoy this gift together."
At your comforting words, she relaxes into your arms even more. You continue to talk with her for a while, asking about her past, about her dreams and desires. They turn out to be mostly small things, but once you get her started, she's surprisingly animated. When the topic comes up of a young novice she's instructing—Sister Cecelia—she just about talks your ear off about how bright the girl is. It's clear that she's proud of her young charge, and relishes the opportunity to extol her talent.
Eventually she drifts off to sleep, resting her head against your shoulder. You let yourself follow soon after. And once you do, you immediately begin reaching out to search the realm of dreams. Waiting for one particular consciousness to appear there.
It takes some time. But you keep up the search, not wanting to miss your chance, even if the window is brief. And your efforts pay off. Late into the night, you at last feel a connection from one of your attempts. You waste no time in pulling yourself through, manifesting yourself in the dream of the leader of the heroines herself.
You emerge in the thick of a raging battle.
It's clear from the texture and feel of this dream that it's one Alicia has frequently. Two huge armies colliding with brutal savagery, as rain pours down from an overcast sky onto a field soaked with blood and mud. Roars of rage and screams of pain and fear and the clash of weapon against weapon, mingling together into a horrific swell of noise that beats against the ears of all present. The sheer scope of the cruelty and violence turns you stomach to watch, even in this illusory recollection.
A tide of orcs hurl themselves at the front line of the allied armies. Most of the defenders you can see are human, at least in this area of the battlefield, though you do also see a contingent of elven archers shooting arrows into the fray from behind the defensive line, to devastating effect. But you yourself are standing behind the fray, right next to a familiar figure. It's Lady Alicia... but noticeably younger than the woman who interrogated you. Probably not even out of her teens yet. Both her armor and her shield are lighter and more ornate than what she wears in the present day, and a different sword is sheathed at her side.
She stands beside a tall man with graying brown hair and a beard, who wears similarly ornate armor and a silver crown. It's clearly her father, which would make him the Emperor of Nelin. You see no sign of any angelic heritage in his features, however, which suggests that it was her mother, the Empress, through whom Alicia received her Aasimar blood.
The Emperor is shouting orders and encouragement to the troops, trying everything in his power to spur them onward. Even so, their situation is a grim one. The forces of Kovora clearly have the upper hand, and the allied army is fighting with all their strength and desperation just to barely hold the line.
The young princess' hand is clenched tight on the hilt of the sword at her side as she watches. From the look in her eyes, you can tell that she desperately wants to hurl herself into the fray and help the struggling troops. To try and make a difference. But her royal status demands that she remain here, beside her father.
You don't expect it will stay like this for long, however. Because if your suspicion is correct about which battle you're seeing... then from what Khaytala told you, this dire situation is about to get even worse.
As though summoned by that very thought, a tall woman in a long black dress plummets down from above, wreathed in green magic. The Witch Queen of Kovora drives her iron staff into the earth as she lands, creating an immense detonation of arcane fire, right in the very center of the human battle formation. The attack flings charred, burning and broken bodies away like rag dolls across an enormous area, killing hundreds with a single attack. Even many of the nearby orcs are slaughtered in the devastation. But their ruler shows no sign of regret... if she even deigns to notice their deaths in the first place.
Even though he's farther away, the edge of the shockwave still knocks the Emperor tumbling backward off his feet. The young princess, however, raises her shield and braces herself in time to stand her ground. With a victorious sneer, the Witch Queen strides out of the huge, flaming crater caused by her initial attack. She advances toward the Nelin leadership, her eyes alight with malice.
She intends to break the back of the human army personally.
Alicia doesn't hesitate. She moves to stand directly between the oncoming sorceress and her father, then launches herself forward with incredible velocity. Even at this young age—even without her paladin investiture—her raw skill alone is astonishing. Even the Witch Queen's eyes widen a little at the unexpected speed of the girl's attack.
But the attack fails all the same. Alicia's sword crashes into a magic barrier that materializes at the last second, the attack stopping in a searing flash of green energy. The Witch Queen retaliates by sweeping out her hand in a dismissive gesture, and that entire area erupts in a huge arc of green fire.
If Alicia had tried to dodge back away from the attack—as most would have reflexively done—she would have been immolated no matter where she moved to. But instead she keeps pressing forward, lunging straight toward the spell and diving into a roll beneath her enemy's arm in the barest sliver of an instant when the cone of fire was still expanding out. The force of her charge carries her past the Witch queen, allowing her to spin around and make another swing... though that too is easily blocked by a flash of her opponent's magic.
Alicia does not let up her assault for an instant. She carves away at the threat to her father and her home, striking with all the strength that her young frame can muster. Slash and dodge. Slash and evade. Again and again and again, so many times in just the space of mere seconds. Her hair whips about her face as she darts through the pounding rain, pushing her body to its limit. It's a display of mesmerizing martial ability, as the young prodigy uses every scrap of talent and training just to survive from one moment to the next.
But despite all that skill and courage... she just isn't strong enough. The Witch Queen regards the girl with contemptuous amusement, the raw power of her sorcery simply too overwhelming for Alicia to break through.
Some of the elven archers are giving supporting fire as well. But their arrows ignite and burn to dust before they even reach the sorceress, not even requiring her attention. And now more orcs are charging toward the breach in the enemy lines, heedless of the danger from the cataclysmic spells that the Witch Queen is unleashing. As the orcs charge, more and more of the human forces panic, breaking and running for their lives in disarray.
The Emperor scrambles back to his feet, drawing his sword. But as he looks back and forth across the hopeless battlefield, with enemies swarming in from every direction... the weapon tumbles from his fingers. Then he also turns and runs, trying to reach his horse.
For a moment, it seems as though he's going to abandon his own daughter. But then you see his true aim. He's not running to his horse to escape. Instead, he reaches for a different sword that the horse was carrying. A sword that he had brought with him to his nation's final stand.
A sword that you recognize.
You aren't the only one who recognizes it, either. For the first time since her arrival, you see a flash of worry briefly cross the Witch Queen's face. Calling on an immense surge of power, even for her, she slams the base of her staff down into the earth, creating an eruption of stone shrapnel that explodes out from the point of impact to scour the entire area. Alicia barely manages to get her shield up, but the sheer force of the impact still hits her point-blank, blasting her back toward her father. Her body jackknifes from the blow, and you hear a painful crack from the shield arm she used to defend.
But the Witch Queen's attention is now entirely focused on the Emperor. He was standing much further away, but the immense blast still knocks him over again, bleeding from a wicked stone fragment embedded in his side. Nevertheless, he raises the sword he's holding, one hand on the hilt, the other on the scabbard.
"Oh most holy Selal!" he cries out, his voice hoarse. "Please! Please! In this hour of our need... please, just this once... grant that I may be counted worthy!" And with that, he yanks on the hilt with all his might.
It doesn't budge.
You can see the sick desperation in his eyes as he pulls and pulls again. But the result is the same each time. The blade remains firmly in its scabbard. The Witch Queen lets out a mocking laugh, any previous worry now replaced by gloating. "You should have chosen a better goddess," she calls out. "Learn now what comes of serving a patron who puts rules and principles over victory!"
As she speaks, she raises her staff toward him. Then she calls out an incantation, green fire gathering at the tip of the staff, before surging out in a focused burst. The deadly lance of fire snakes through the air, hissing through the falling raindrops toward its target.
Yet somehow—even as injured as she is—Alicia still manages to roll back to her feet in time to try and intervene. "Father!" she screams, launching herself headlong toward the Emperor, trying to interpose herself between him and the blast. Trying to do something. Anything.
But even as fast as she is... this time, she isn't quite fast enough.
The spell carves through the air just in front of her, missing her by inches and tearing a gaping hole straight through her father's chest. A heartbroken wail of misery and anguish tears itself from Alicia, as she sees her father brutally eviscerated right in front of her.
Her headlong run becomes a skid as she slides to her knees next to her father's corpse. She grabs his bloodied body in her arms, heedless of her own pain, futilely searching through her tears for some way to help him. But it's obvious that he's far beyond any help that could be given.
Behind them, the Witch Queen licks her lips in satisfaction, reveling in the sight before her. Then she raises her staff once more, repeating the very same spell. This time aimed at the kneeling princess. There's a triumphant note in her voice as she finishes the incantation, releasing another lance of deadly flame at her target.
Alicia hears it coming. But in the kneeling position she's in, there's no way she can dodge. There's only one desperate chance. And Alicia takes it. She grabs hold of the fallen sword next to her father and swings it around into the path of the oncoming spell.
From how she makes the swing, you doubt Alicia expected to accomplish anything beyond putting it between her and the attack. She was probably hoping that—even sheathed—the aura of the holy weapon might somehow block the dark magic.
But as she pulls on the weapon, instead of coming up scabbard and all... the sword comes free from its sheathe without any resistance.
When Khaytala described this moment to you, she said that the entire battlefield lit up from one end to the other. Seeing it now for yourself... she was in no way exaggerating. It's as if lightning struck down from the heavens, wreathing the blade in holy fire, almost impossible to look at directly. With a single swing, Alicia shreds the oncoming attack, the green flames scattered into nothingness with the sound of a thunderclap.
Alicia looks down at the weapon in numb disbelief. But a moment later, that disbelief gives way to grim purpose. She rises to her feet. Her angelic features are splattered with blood and muck. In that coating of grime you can see the tear-tracks running down her face. But she does not let that deter her from her duty. She turns to face down her foe, the Dawnbringer blazing in her hand like a vengeful star come to earth.
The Witch Queen, for her part, stares at Alicia with incredulity... and also fear. No trace of her former smug superiority remains. She brings up her staff, casting spells as fast as she can with frenzied desperation. The entire battlefield in front of her erupts under the magical bombardment, towering explosions of arcade force striking in such rapid succession that you have to fight to keep your footing as the very earth quakes and buckles beneath you.
But through the bedlam you see Alicia sprinting forward, righteous wrath in her eyes, somehow moving even faster now. She weaves between the huge attacks, shrapnel tearing at her as she hurtles onward, until she reaches her target. An anguished cry tears itself from her throat as she brings the Dawnbringer down in an overhead slash.
The ground buckles under the force of the blow, holy power blazing forth from the blade to carve a long slash deep into the battlefield, extending off into the distance. And for the first time in their duel, the Witch Queen was forced to dodge, using a spell to fling herself away at breathtaking speed. She tries to counterattack, focusing her magic in a coordinated barrage... but Alicia simply swings the Dawnbringer back across the incoming assault, the energies colliding in a massive detonation.
The blast is so huge that both combatants have to brace themselves hard to weather it. The shockwave sweeps up the heavy downpour even as it falls through the air around them, ripping the rain away and flinging it across the entire battlefield. Then, even before the raging energies have even fully faded, the two foes are attacking each other again. A moment later, the rain resumes its torrential pounding.
It's a battle entirely beyond mortal capacity, their clashing powers scouring everything around them in a frenzy of destruction. They chase each other back and forth at impossible speeds, rending the landscape in their wake as they carry out their deadly struggle.
But as the fight grows ever-more intense, your keen eyes notice a crucial difference between the two combatants. Alicia is throwing herself into the fight with everything she has. Every last fiber of her being is bent to no other purpose but taking her enemy down. Even if it comes at the cost of her own life, that would mean nothing to her in the state that she's in. That allows her to take any risk necessary for victory, without even the slightest hesitation. But the Witch Queen...
The Witch Queen is scared.
She came into this fight fully expecting to crush the human leadership like a bug, in a single overwhelming display of force. But she wasn't even remotely prepared for this. Now, for the first time, she's in actual, genuine danger. And she—like Lily—knows all too well the horrific fate that awaits her should she fail Melca by dying.
In truth, even taking the Dawnbringer into account, the Witch Queen probably still holds a clear edge over the young princess, in terms of raw power and experience. But even if the odds still lean in her favor, her victory is by no means a sure thing anymore. And the sheer terror of what will happen to her if she loses gnaws at her soul in a growing panic. That panic clouds her thoughts. Makes her second-guess herself. Makes her hesitate to take risks.
Bit by bit, that fundamental difference between the two adversaries tips the scales of the battle more and more in favor of Alicia. And with each gain the young princess makes, the Witch Queen's fear grows all the more. The result is a choking, vicious downward cycle. Soon the Witch Queen has shifted entirely to defense, fleeing outright before Alicia's furious, unrelenting assault. She tries frantically to think of some way to turn the tables. But Alicia doesn't let up, doesn't give her the slightest chance to collect herself. And with each crack in her composure, the Witch Queen can see her doom drawing that much nearer.
In the songs and tales of this battle, the bards most likely wax on about the epic scale of clash. And seen from a distance, that would be the natural way to describe it. But for all the cataclysmic power on display... when seen close-up, the end of the fight is something far more sad and pathetic. The true deciding moment isn't any clever stratagem. Nor is it a secret technique, nor a heroic sacrifice.
No, the true deciding moment is when the Witch Queen's resolve breaks completely.
"No!" she shrieks, nearly hyperventilating. Her domineering attitude has crumbled, revealing that behind the power and the authority and the terror ascribed to her regal position, she is, in the end... just a woman. Just a cruel, vindictive, scared, trapped, doomed woman... who is about to meet a fate that no one could possibly deserve. "No, no, no no no! You can't... this isn't—!"
But she doesn't get any further. Alicia sees the opening she's been searching for this entire fight, and she takes it. She surges forward, faster than ever, putting everything into one final strike. The Dawnbringer cuts through any remaining defenses that the Witch Queen could raise, and cleaves her head clean from her shoulders.
Alicia stumbles to a stop, her chest heaving with each breath. Behind her, the Witch Queen's body crumples to the ground, her head landing a moment later. The teenaged princess can barely keep hold of her sword, her body shuddering as the rush of adrenaline fades and the pain from her own wounds and broken bones starts to return. Far from the austere heroine of song and legend... she looks like a young girl mere seconds away from throwing up.
As she wobbles in place, barely standing, Alicia looks down at the Dawnbringer in her hand. And in that private moment, alone on the battlefield—secret from all other eyes except yours—she does not look at her sword with the reverence one would expect for such a hallowed weapon. No, she looks at her sword with resentment. A resentment so profound that you can practically hear the silent, anguished accusation running through her thoughts, without her needing to say anything.
Why?
Why did you only work for me? Why didn't you save my father? Why wasn't he good enough for you?
The sword offers no reply or justification for the inscrutable moral calculus by which it evaluates its unyielding standard of worthiness. The young teen closes her eyes in absolute exhaustion, her shoulders shaking violently as she holds back racking sobs, tears threatening to spill out.
But she can't allow herself that luxury. There are still countless wounded around her. The Emperor is dead. His army is still in a state of disarray. And the remaining orcs could still be a threat if they were to regroup. Her scattered forces need someone to look to. And since this ancestral weapon has chosen her, there's no one else in a position to rally them. Not like she can.
As you stand there in front of her, you see the final moments of the hurt, grieving young girl that Alicia might have been. A girl with normal dreams and desires and fears and insecurities of her own. A girl who could have had a life beyond the role she has come to embody.
But that girl wouldn't have been enough. That girl wouldn't have been able to bear the weight of an entire nation depending on her for salvation. That girl wouldn't have been able to fulfill the impossible role that has been offered to her... and to her alone.
So Alicia kills her.
It's not nearly so dramatic as what she did to the Witch Queen. But it is, in its own way, just as ruthless. A simple tightening of the eyes. A clenching of the fist. Such a small thing. Not nearly enough of an outward sign for such an awful act of self-denial.
In this memory of events that took place a decade ago, you see the moment when Alicia the girl died... and Alicia the heroine was born. She straightens up, ignoring her bone-deep weariness. Locking away all her doubts and her protests and her grief behind her discipline and unbreakable will. She decides, in that moment, that she fundamentally doesn't matter. Not in the face of all this suffering.
She thrusts the Dawnbringer skyward, discharging another blinding flash of holy power. "To me!" she cries out. But only you are close enough to tell how broken her young voice truly is. "Spread the word! Reform the lines! Healers, tend to the wounded! All others, follow me!"
And they do follow her. The shattered, fleeing human army regroups around the miracle they've just witnessed, while the same sight breaks any remaining resolve in the orcish hordes. She charges forward, running past you and toward her future. Toward the path that will ultimately make her your opponent.
Her self-abnegation to save others, pitted against your self-indulgence to save everyone.
You've seen enough. With a snap of your fingers you freeze the illusory surroundings, shaking the paladin out of the fog of dreaming and into full lucidity. She quickly slows to a stop, looking down at her hands. Her dream-body reverts to her adult form, her ornate royal armor also shifting into the simpler, heavier set that she wears now. The armor of a paladin, not a princess.
"We need to talk," you say quietly.
The holy warrior turns to face you. Her expression hardens as she confirms your identity. "You," she says, her voice seething with cold, controlled fury.
For you it's the second time encountering her. But for her this is the first time she's knowingly met you in your true, demonic form. The greatest threat to her home. The fiend who has corrupted and defiled her beloved friends into betraying the pact they made and serving Kovora instead. You could sense her anger when you met her before, but now it is on full display. Like a naked blade pointed at your throat.
Well. If nothing else, you can start by giving her something that will help both of you. It's the most time-crucial thing to discuss with her, and it also might help mitigate a little bit of the tension, though you're not expecting too much. "I know you're probably not happy to see me," you admit. "But there's something I need to warn you about. Something neither of us wants to happen."
Alicia says nothing, only narrows her eyes as she regards you with suspicion. Figuring that's about as much as you can hope for, you continue. "Whatever you think of my methods... you should know that Melca doesn't like them either. She wants far, far worse atrocities from my mistress. I'm just the only compromise she could manage."
You step forward, looking the paladin right in the eyes. You meet her wrath head-on, without flinching. "But now Melca has a lead on a different member of the Witch Queen's bloodline. One who is still under the protection of your Church. Probably kept in some hidden convent, to prevent her from passing on her lineage. And Melca is even now using her spies to track her down. If she succeeds... then she will slaughter everyone guarding her, and force another innocent girl into this. Just like she did to my mistress."
There is a long silence, as the paladin digests this information. After a while, you continue. "We both know that one way or another, everything will come to a head before long. I think it would be best for everyone if you took this girl, Ceilyn, under your personal protection until that time."
This is clearly not what Alicia was expecting you to say. You can see her warily considering her options. When she finally does speak, her voice tight and controlled.
"You seem to be operating under a misunderstanding as to how much I, myself, know," she says. "If this new heir truly exists, then I have never heard of her. Neither now nor in the past. If it is indeed the Church that is hiding the descendants of the Witch Queen... then it is most likely the work of a secret Order. One not officially sanctioned by the Hierarchy. Which also means there will likely be little to no direct record of its existence."
That would explain how they've avoided Melca's spies for so long. But even so, those spies did eventually find Lily's original hiding place. And considering the threat Melca now faces from Fallhazel, you have to assume that the sadistic deity will be leaving no stone unturned in her search for every possible lever against you that she can bring to bear.
Considering the immense pull that Alicia has due to her unique position, you're confident that she could track down Ceilyn's new location as well... with enough effort. Still, even for someone with as much authority as she has, if this secret cabal is really as off-the-books as she suspects, a search like that would probably take up even more of Alicia's time than you initially thought.
In the short term, you'd be asking her to severely limit her ability to protect her friends from you. That, in exchange for removing a threat to the very demon who has been corrupting those same friends. That... would be a tough sell, even for you. Especially when Alicia could instead just focus on trying to win, and hope that Ceilyn is well-hidden enough that the spies will fail to find her until then.
You do have a supreme advantage, however: Alicia's fundamental, innate compassion. If you play on the eternal torture that Ceilyn could face if Melca does get her hands on the girl, twisting that knife for all you're worth... you could probably get her to do it.
Still, even if it does work, that approach would have a cost. She's already furious at what you've done. If you use the threat of an innocent girl's torture to pressure her into leaving her friends to fend for themselves against you, that would probably sour her thoughts toward you even more. Especially if you do succeed in taking another of her friends while she's off helping you. Which, in turn, could make your later interactions with the most dangerous heroine even more difficult and acrimonious.
On the other hand, you could leverage this in a more moderate approach instead. Verika is unquestionably the true espionage and intelligence-gathering master out of all the heroines. Even taking into account what you've just learned, you're still confident that the drow could easily track down Ceilyn's hidden refuge, if you assigned her that task next time.
You could relent and offer to handle the search using your resources. Instead, you could ask if Verika can leave Ceilyn under Alicia's protection once she's found. That would still keep Ceilyn far away from Melca's grasp, as well as offering a conciliatory gesture to the paladin. In fact, if you're careful, you still might be able to hide your involvement from Melca entirely. You'd just need to get Alicia to give her word that she'll allow Verika to leave afterward, without trying to restrain her.
How much do you want to try to involve Alicia in helping Ceilyn? And how do you want to present yourself to her while doing so?