RE: Monarch

A pale yellow light crept in the apothecary window, confirming that I had once again stayed up all night. It wasn’t my intention. I had planned to go to bed a little after four, but after taking stock of Maya’s gift, I’d decided to give it one more shot. Casikas had cut me a great deal on the required ingredients, so I went a little overboard. As of the current moment, my gift for her included a mess of antiseptics, salves for various afflictions including frostbite and burns, and a vurseng tea mixture.

But there was one particular potion I had tried and subsequently failed to make over half a dozen attempts.

It all started with a story: Casikas had told me about somewhat casually about a phenomenon the infernals referred to as death tunnels. As I already knew, the sanctum was constantly shifting the further you moved from the center. It was possible for some passages to completely close off, trapping inhabitants at a dead-end inside. But this was relatively rare. What was slightly more common—albeit equally problematic—was that the earth would shift slightly, intersecting with one of the many aquifers present at that layer, and a previously dry passage would completely flood with water. This was a major problem, as the passages could in some cases extend for miles.

The solution was the iron-lung potion. It simultaneously increased oxygen in the blood while reducing the heart rate, making it possible to triple or quadruple the standard time a person could hold their breath. It was, however, inordinately expensive and difficult to brew. I’d blown most of the modest savings I’d accrued from the apothecary on the ingredients attempting to make it the first three times. The problem was that the same ingredients were also used to brew mage-bane, a mixture that was similar in that it reduced heart rate, but also drained mana and slowed regeneration. The main difference in the brewing process was the temperature of the mixture. It required a higher temperature than a standard flame, which necessitated using my magic, as Casikas’s apothecary lacked the necessary equipment. But, it took hours. If the temperature was too inconsistent, the potion wouldn’t form anything of use. If it was too high, I’d end up activating the secondary characteristics of the ingredients, producing a batch of mediocre mage-bane. Only if it achieved the exact temperature maintained consistently, would it result in the potion I needed.

The bell to the front door chimed as Casikas’ entered with a dour “Morning,” sleep still heavy in his voice. I ignored him, staying focused on the task at hand. I removed the flat-bottomed glass flask from the fire, recalling the flame absent-mindedly.

He entered the lab, identifying what I was doing immediately and reaching for the strainer. He observed silently as I poured the liquid through it into another beaker.

“Any chance you actually got it this time?” He asked, voice expressing exactly how much of a possibility he thought that was.

I shrugged. “Not sure. I’ve gotten better at narrowing the range of the heat to a matter of degrees, but there’s always a margin of error.” I glowered at the flask. “Pretty sure the temperature spiked for a few seconds there.”

“Well, we can always sell more mage-bane. Are you here for the day or just tinkering?”

“Tinkering.” I swirled the beaker and held it up to the light. “Hey, how does the color look to you?” It was pearlescent blue, much clearer than the previous attempts.

Casikas took it from me, pushing his round spectacles up his nose and studying it for a moment before handing it back. “Looks decent. But there’s really only one way to tell for sure.” He shot me a toothy smile. Grimacing, I poured a small portion of it into a half-cup and, sending off a quick prayer beforehand to any god that might be listening, tossed it back.

The taste was mostly the same. Pungent bouquet. A viscous and briny body. But the finish was different, nuttier: More briar nut than elm.

I waited anxiously, bracing myself for the dizziness and discomfort as the mana drained from my body. Unlike the last time, it didn’t come. But something was happening. My heart, which was pounding in anticipation just moments ago, began slowing down, almost to a normal rate. Experimentally, I called the flame, and it manifested in my palm with no issue. Then I held my breath. I hadn’t taken a full dose, so I wouldn’t feel the exact effects, but the typical urgency to breathe didn’t manifest until what much later than normal. I grinned, holding the bottle skyward and pumping a fist.

Finally.

I knocked on Maya’s door. It swung open, and she waved me in, barely contained panic in her eyes. There was a half-packed travelers bag and rucksack on her bed, haphazardly strewn across a rumpled red blanket. Everything else in the room was immaculately ordered and dusted, making the mess from packing stand out starkly. Maya darted back and forth, moving between the two bags frantically, looking into the air and muttering to herself and counting on her fingers.

“So I take it you’re excited, then?” I took a seat.

“Up! Up!” She shooed me away from her bed. “I am sorry. I am in a rush and am certain I am forgetting something, though I cannot for the life of me remember what it is.”

My eyes went to her bags. She seemed loaded down with plenty of clothes, her staff, rations, funds, a handful of lumen-lights, flint and steel. All in all, incredibly well-prepared. Her panic was likely the result of nerves more than anything else. More than anything else, she seemed like she needed a distraction.

I shrugged, leaning against the wall. “And here I thought you’d be delighted to see your present. All that work for nothing, I suppose.”

Maya looked at me, then the satchel in my hands, then back to me, her expressions cycling through elation, irritation, then suspicion. “Cairn. I thought we talked about—“

“Didn’t spend a copper on it.” I held up a hand, stopping her. “Okay, so I bought the bag, and some silver went towards the various components, but everything in it, I made myself.”

Suspiciously, she took the satchel and unrolled it. I walked her through the various supplies, making sure she knew where to look for what, as well as what everything was used for. I came to the iron-lung potion last. “And this little bastard—my pride and joy—I just finished this morning. No drowning in underwater tunnels for you.”

Maya rubbed at her forehead. “So? This is it? Nothing for gastrointestinal distress?”

Her response threw me off, my cockiness disappearing. I rubbed the back of my neck. “Oh. Well, I looked for laudenshade, but couldn’t find any. It’s kind of rare. There’s a paralytic in there, but my knowledge of poisons is woefully—”

She hugged me, suddenly. “I am joking, Cairn. This is the nicest present anyone has ever given me.” She let me go clasped her hands behind her back. “I would say it is too much, but I am beginning to think you do not understand what those words mean.”

“Hey, it’s not altruism. I’m protecting an investment here. Pure, ruthless pragmatism. What am I supposed to do if, after everything we’ve been through, you run off and die in the big bad sanctum?” I joked, though it fell a little flat.

She peered at me, her white eyes entirely too perceptive. “You know, you don’t have to do that. You can just tell me you’re worried about me.”

I blew air out my nose, leaning over to look at her bags. “Are you sure you have everything?” I asked.

“No,” she groaned, dragging out the word. A few minutes of rustling and unpacking and repacking later, Nethtari stuck her head in the door. “Ready?”

There were a series of snaps and zips as Maya put the finishing touches on her packing. Nethtari looked over towards me and I stuck my hand out flat, wiggling it from side to side in the universal sign for “Kind-of-but-not-really.”

Nethtari huffed. “Well, ready or not, we’re leaving in five minutes. The earlier you get down there the more time you’ll have to get settled in the staging area before nightfall.”

“Got it,” Maya muttered.

I did a quick visual check of the room, making sure there was nothing obvious left behind. At the foot her bed was a plush green lizard I’d never seen before—it looked threadbare and worn, what must have once been vibrant green faded to olive. I picked it up and waved it at her.

“You sure you want to leave this guy behind?” I teased. Maya glanced over and reached out, taking it from me.

“Oh, I should give this to Rin before I go,” She said. Then she turned to me suddenly and took my hands. “Cairn, I need to ask you for a favor. And I feel bad doing so because you have already done so much already—“

“Name it,” I said quickly, cutting her off.

Maya looked down, and her lip quivered. “After everything with Barion… I thought I would never see my them again. Thought I would never feel my mother’s embrace, hear my father’s laugh. Now, I am terrified to leave them.”

I suddenly understood, a little too well. “You don’t have to say it. I’ll look after your family, Maya. I promise.”

“It’s a lot to ask, but I do not know anyone else who can see the future.” She smiled up at me, shyly. There was so much trust in her eyes.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m here then,” I said, smirking. “Designated seer, at your service.”

“See that you don’t end up believing your own tall tales.” Maya rolled her eyes. “If you are a seer, then I am the Empress of Aiphela.”

“Pretty sure you have to be a dark elf for that.”

“Cairn. There’s something—“

Jorra stuck his head in. “Maya, mom says to—woah.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and we immediately released hands, stepping away from each other quickly.

“Get out!” Maya exclaimed, her cheeks flushed red. Jorra scampered away, cackling. I helped her with her bags, and we prepared to leave.

Nethtari and Kilvius stood side by side, Agarin squirming in Nethtari’s arms. Jorra was teeming with barely withheld jealousy. And Maya was loaded down with a rucksack and a number of other bags, standing on the lift with a dozen other infernals her age. They were awash in a mix of emotions. Some looked cautious, others terrified, but most were practically vibrating, overcome with uncontainable excitement. Kilvius and Nethtari had peppered Maya with last-minute advice on the way there, but now stood silent. Maya hugged each of them, even Jorra, then planted a kiss on Agarin’s forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You best come back after the requisite three months,” Nethtari’s face was stern. “And not a day later.”

“I know, mom.” Maya took her place on the lift. A violet infernal snapped the entrance rail into place and held out his hand, casting a spell. There was a burgeoning creak of metal, thick cables larger than two fists held together slowly unspooled, and the lift began to descend.

I waved. “See you soon, Maya.”

She waved back, growing more distant by the second. Eventually, the lift disappeared, swallowed by the darkness of the chasm, the only evidence of its continued existence the still unraveling wires

Feeling strangely forlorn and empty, I turned away from the precipice. Hair prickled on the back of my neck.

Near the back of the square, Guemon was watching, his expression cold and unreadable.

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