Page 89 of Alchemical Dreamer

The queen wasn’t angry; he could feel it in that momentary connection. A boundless tangle of potential and ideas emerged from the chaos, every new input shifting her focus to a new frontier. She was juggling a million moves all at once with a mind so sharp it could cut steel. It was unlike anything Kraghtol had ever experienced, and he felt small and insignificant in comparison.

No, he corrected himself. Not unlikeanything. There was a haunting similarity to one memory. When he had touched the very essenceof Chaos, the Principle of Chaos, in his dream, it had felt similar. Less focused then, less alive, but theessencewas the same.

The raw Chaos of the queen was overwhelming. It filled every sense of his until he could feel and taste nothing else and his mind was begging for his will to falter, to submit entirely to it. He was defenseless, his throat laid bare to the queen’s every whim. If she wanted, she could destroy him easily, erase what made him Kraghtol, and fill the empty shell with nothing but chaos and her indomitable will. He felt his legs give way under him and he stumbled to his knees, looking up to the looming, gigantic form of the queen, exuding nothing but authority. It was searingly bright around him, and the blue light cut hard shadows onto the queen’s chiseled face. He still was clutching her hand, the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground in a whimpering mess.

The final blow didn’t come. The Chaos that engulfed him receded, but it didn’t wash away. It seeped into his every pore, into his very being, changing him and filling him with… something. It hurt like nothing he had ever known, and it thrilled him. He could not, for the life of him, tell what was happening, but one by one, other sensations returned. The surrounding brightness subsided. He could smell the swamp again. Hear the shouts of his friends. He was really kneeling on the ground, but the queen was just smiling at him now, in an entirely unreadable way. The connection was gone.

He scurried to his feet, his whole body trembling. When he retracted his hand, it was slick from sweat, and only when he felt himself bump into Valir did he stop tumbling backwards. He barely noticed the human’s soothing hand on his upper arm when he swallowed,repeatedly, trying to find back his voice. His face was wet from tears he hadn’t realized he’d cried. He naturally leaned into the noble’s touch, seeking anything to ground him.

“What did you do to him?” shouted Dagna, with a face of fury.

“Nothing,” the queen said in the same icy voice, entirely unfazed by what just happened. “Nothing we didn’t agree on.”

“That was an alchemical contract,” Valir stated, half-explaining to Dagna, while he still held Kraghtol’s unsteady arm. “At least I think it was one. It looked nothing like when I enrolled in the school. But why?”

The last question was directed at the queen, who raised an eyebrow. “Why not? We made an agreement, and if he is not planning on breaking it, there’s no reason not to formalize it.”

“Well, if you do anything like that again, I —” Dagna started, but Kraghtol shook his head.

“Don’t. Don’t provoke her. It’s alright. I’m alright.” His voice sounded croaky, and he still couldn’t stop trembling. “We’re good.”

The queen lowered the arm she had half raised toward the dwarf, and smiled.

Kraghtol turned towards his friends, first Dagna and then Valir. He caught the hand of the latter with his own and squeezed it lightly. “We don’t get in her way, and she doesn’t get in ours. We’ll just… walk away. You won’t stop us, right?”

The queen looked surprised. “Stop you? What makes you think I’d do that? I’m going to help you. My servant will escort you safely to the edge of the swamp. And from there…”

Kraghtol could clearly see the cruel smile of superiority. “To the country border. My plans involve all of Wardenreach, and you surely wouldn’t want tointerfere?”

He didn’t answer. The mark on his chest still pulsed faintly. It was Valir who broke the silence. “I’m with you. Wherever you need to go.” And Dagna nodded.

Epilogue

Brambles cut through the remains of his red coat, once the proud crest of duty, now little more than a filthy rag clinging to his body.

I won’t let him break me.The mantra had kept Roderic alive for the last days. He shoved the thorns away with his left arm, the only one he had left. His body was hot and sweating, and at times, he barely clung to consciousness. It was the dirty water he was forced to drink, or maybe the bitter-tasting berries he couldn’t identify. They poisoned him.

He smashed a mosquito with his left hand, causing the branch he was holding to snap back, adding one more scratch to his ravaged body. He had stopped counting them. With gritted teeth, he broke the branch and went on, dragging his boots through the mud. Not for the first time in the last days, he wished he still had his sword to cut through the brambles, but it was lost, along with his arm, and the rest of his squad, when the fey-cursed half-orc unleashed that unnatural beast on them. Instead of letting him die, he’d tended to his wound, but not before making out with that noble whore of his, right on the corpses of his comrades.

Roderic had returned to the site of the battle — he had little choice since he had to follow their own tracks back — but the bodies had disappeared. No doubt devoured by the demon, or by other beasts in this fucking swamp. He wouldn’t have had the strength to bury them, anyway. That had been days ago. The tracks had become muddier and muddier, and at some point, he had lost them entirely. When he had realized that, he had been almost ready to just lie down and let the swamp swallow him whole. Almost. There was just one more thought driving him forward. Revenge. Hewouldbring that asshole to justice. This was not over. He just had to reach the edge of the swamp, had to find their horses again. There were provisions there, and it was just a few days’ ride to Winterstone. And then…

Roderic gritted his teeth harder as he pulled his boot out of the mud once more with a slurping sound.He won’t break me. I will break him.

A speck of blue light in the corner of his eye caught his attention, along with a crashing sound behind him. He spun around and found himself face-to-face with a demon. It was impossible to say if it was the one that had taken his arm. He backed away until he felt a tree at his back, and the demon followed, sharp-smelling liquid dripping from its teeth. It was the same one. He recognized the wound in its mouth. It didn’t attack yet, but this was just a question of heartbeats now. There was no escape. He closed his eyes, only to open them again immediately. No, he would not go down like a fucking coward.

More blue sparks appeared around them, and movement filled the swamp. Trees bent and plants either moved out of the way or combusted into ash in a matter of seconds. A corridor opened up, wide as a ballroom and straight as a guild line. Even the ground itselfhardened and evened out. The only things unmoving were the tree he was pinned against, and the beast in front of him.

With her head held high, a green-skinned woman walked, no, strode towards him. He had to blink against the now unfiltered daylight. The sun glittered right behind the impressive knot of her dark hair, and for a moment, the light around her head looked just like a crown.

She stopped right in front of him, and the demon beast retreated at the snap of her finger, without laying so much as a claw on him. The orc woman in the headache-inducing dress smiled regally. Her voice was smooth and cold as the swamp mist it had replaced.

“I have an offer for you.”

To be continued…