RE: Monarch

But things had changed. The abominations gave a clear, horrifying picture of what the man could do, and a worse case scenario that was impossible to shake. And that was just accounting for outside factors. There was no denying that internal dynamics had shifted, created friction where little had existed. Jorra was no longer explicitly angry, but the end result was arguably worse. I could feel his eyes on me, questioning both my motives and by extension, his own in accompanying me. He stuck next to Maya like they were attached at the hip. I wondered more than once if he would still be here if Maya had remained at the heart. Bellarex had picked up on the tension and almost seemed annoyed with Jorra. It boiled down to a fundamental difference in philosophy and the fact that she had been on the outskirts for most of the battle.

Bell hadn’t seen the moment the battle had shifted—how it appeared that I had snapped after felling the captain, revealing something frightening that lurked beneath the surface, something Jorra had not seen the way Maya had.

So, watching him venture out ahead of the group and scout, I knew how isolated he must have felt, harboring fears and concerns that no one else seemed to share. I just wasn’t sure how to handle it, or even approach the problem, when my word was effectively shown to be worthless. He met my eye briefly as he trotted back towards the group, a slain gray creature that resembled an oversized rat swaying limply in his grip.

“See anything, Jorra?” I asked.

“No.” The answer came back short and clipped.

Maya glanced at me before speaking. “Nothing we can use?”

“Nothing,” Jorra repeated, annoyed. “No rivers, no landmarks. Nothing but trees and moss.

“It would help if we could see farther than a few hundred feet.” Bell noted, looking out through thick wood. She had climbed a particularly tall tree earlier in an attempt to see over the canopy. Once up, Bell had described a shimmering visual effect like a rolling heatwave that limited visibility, but the real surprise was that she spotted a red infernal on a distant section of canopy doing the same thing she was. She waved and the infernal waved back. At the same time. With the same arm. Then she spotted another, and another, all arranged at several points in a circle around her, all that moved when she moved. Some sort of spatial distortion.

“Well, you bagged dinner at least.” I pointed to the creature that hung from his hands. It had sharp and pointed teeth that gave the impression it wasn’t a herbivore. “Anything we can do to stretch our rations will help.”

I toyed with the idea of sending Vogrin out. It was tempting, but after the previous series of events I was loath to put even a fraction of my mana in reserve, let alone close to half. It had been far too close, and I doubted the cowled magician would double down and attack us again so close to such a clear failure. For now, it was enough to know we were headed in the right direction.

There was a twinkling sound, almost like the wind-chimes. I turned immediately, looking for the source. “Did you hear that?” I murmured to Maya.

She followed my gaze into the forest. “No. Again? Are you certain?”

“Almost certain.” I mused. I’d been around Maya long enough to know that she was an attentive person. The last few times I’d heard the noise I’d been the only one to notice. It had been distant, far enough away that I could understand the others missing it, and wasn’t entirely sure whether my mind was playing tricks. This time it was clear, and Maya had still not heard it. Something magical, perhaps? Something only I could hear?

There was a flash of movement as a small figure retreated further into the forest, though the figure looked wrong in some way. Something about the light. It was almost translucent. It reminded me of the girl outside the enclave gates and the cryptic conversation I’d dwelled on for some time, and eventually decided was possibly a simple hallucination under stress.

It also put me in the mind of that first day in the Everwood, when Thoth had used an illusion to lure me away from the caravan into Barion’s clutches. That in mind, I was cautious. But something about this felt different.

“Let’s pause here, for a moment. Jorra, did you scout in that direction at all?” I pointed out towards the direction I’d seen the small figure.

“Not really.” Jorra said. He hesitated, like he might ask more and decided not to.

“Alright.” I shifted my pack, readjusting, so the weight was equally distributed. “I’m going to check something. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll come with you,” Maya volunteered quickly.

Her company would be welcome. But I glanced between Jorra and Bellarex. The way they were distanced from each other and slowly shook my head. “No. I need you here. To smooth things over if there’s an argument. Everything’s too delicate right now.”

Maya looked unhappy, but I could see she understood the reasoning. “What if it’s a trap?”

“If it looks dangerous, or if I get a bad feeling, I’ll call it off and come straight back.” My eyes slid towards Jorra again. He’d begun gutting the game he’d brought back in motions that were a bit too rough and uncaring to convey anything other than irritation. His ambivalence, feigned or otherwise, was hard to stomach. I reminded myself that he had been the only one who tried to come back for me during the loops—even if he’d failed and gotten himself captured meanwhile.

“He will come around, Cairn.” Maya said, reading my mind.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He will. Just give him time.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. Even if I didn’t share her overwhelming confidence, there was little point in saying so. I turned and headed off in the direction of the figure at a brisk pace.

/////

Though it had been some time, I’d taken Cephur and Tamara’s lessons on woodcraft to heart. Unfortunately, they were of limited use in this case. The rangers were experts in their field, but it didn’t change the fact that looking for trails, bent twigs, and unsettled dirt were methods for tracking the corporeal, and I had begun to suspect that my quarry was anything but. There were no tracks, nothing to indicate the figure I’d seen had even existed, let alone left a trail.

Instead, I followed the music. That was what it was. Distinct notes, like little pieces of a greater song that escaped me. It was maddeningly familiar, every note struck right at the edge of my subconscious, building in a fractured lullaby that resonated far below the surface.

Not for the first time, I wondered at the health of my mind. Maya had described it as a tempest. But she could only read the current state of things, not the underlying thoughts or residual state of things. There was no question that I was faster to anger than I ever had been. It was part of why I’d been so slow to dwell on the conversation I’d had with the little girl. Was it possible I was imagining this? All of it? That the stress of the last loop had caused some sort of mental relapse into the madness I’d flirted with over the last few years.

I hoped not. My body could always be restored, but my mind was another story. But that was all I could do. Hope.

I nearly gave up when I came across the dead tree. Tall and broad, it towered above the others, casting a long shadow that crested the mossy terrain. The flowers that surrounded it gave me pause. They were thick, their stems dark green, jutting straight up out of the moss as if in defiance. The flowers themselves were pure white Lillies the size of a fist. What really stood out though were the insects. Hundreds of butterflies the size of birds with vibrant, indigo wings flitted from flower to flower. There weren’t enough flowers to go around, so they formed an angry swarm above each, black legs grappling at each other, tubes unfurling from their mouths, trying to pierce each other. Occasionally, a butterfly would be run through, and it would fall to the ground to join its fellows, the iridescent color fading away to a muted brown.

I cocked my head to listen for the music. Nothing. It had nearly swollen to a crescendo before I’d spotted the tree, only to disappear. There was no question that this was an interesting display. Beautiful and brutal in equal measure. But why was I brought here?

I was more interested in the flowers than the bugs. These hadn’t been on Casikas’s list. I was sure I would have remembered. I bent down to study a small one on the outskirts that seemed to be left alone. Like much flora in the sanctum, it was entirely foreign to me. A lone butterfly landed on my shoulder. I observed it cautiously, not wanting to startle it—nothing in the sanctum was as it seemed. Its face was alien and disquieting up close. Big silvery eyes bisected with blue fuzz that matched its wings. It fanned its wings out a few times.

Then its proboscis unfurled and jammed into the shoulder of my armor. My eyes widened. It didn’t pierce the skin, but it did pierce the top layer. It skittered up my shoulder and jabbed its thin mouth into my armor again, closer to where my neck met my shoulder. I felt it this time. A sharp, sucking sensation.

Carefully, precisely, I swung my right hand around and crushed it. It crunched under my hand, but the motion pushed its mouth further into my shoulder. I lost my balance and took a step to my left, crushing the small flower under my boot.

The reaction was immediate. There was a cacophony of whispering and the flitting of a thousand shadows. I looked up slowly. The vibrant butterflies had stopped fighting over the flowers. They formed a singular swarm, all facing towards me. Their wings were silent, beating hypnotically as they thrummed with volatile energy.

Slowly, I lifted my boot off the crumpled flower. Red nectar leaked from its stem.

The whispers intensified, and within the whispers I could hear a thousand muted voices. A raw blanket of pain pierced my mind.

”—Wasn’t the only trophy he brought home—“

“—What did you offfffer them?—”

“—Just like his father—“

“—The poor thing is freezing—“

“—Guess who came looking for you—“

”—Some hero you turned out to be—“

”—And you will wisssh that you had died—”

I clapped my hands to my ears, eyes wide. It did nothing. I could still hear them clearly, their voices bouncing in my head. My vision started to fray around the edges and gray. My mana was plummeting. I wanted to turn and run. To flee. But somehow I knew, the second I turned my back, they would be on me. So, I stood, even as the voices battered me down.

“Hey!” The voice startled me so badly I physically jumped. I turned to find a figure clad in heavy robes, a mesh net covering his face. In his left hand he was holding a bag, and his right hand wreathed in violet flame. He ignored me and faced the swarm. “Come on you b-b-bastards.” He waved the demon-fire on his hand as a man might wave a flag before a bull, pulling the swarms focus from me to him as he moved away.

The whispers crescendoed to an angry buzz and the swarm dove towards him. The fire on his hand extinguished. He thrust the bag forward, aimed its mouth towards the incoming swarm, then opened it.

My ears popped and the surrounding air swirled. The robed man staggered backwards as the swarm was sucked in, thousands of butterflies gone instantly, a few hundred more actively fighting the pull, wings tearing in the swill trying desperately to fly away.

The blanket over my mind faded. I ran over and braced him from behind, helping him keep his balance as the final few were pulled into the bag. He pulled the drawstring tight and the wind ceased immediately. He tied the bag in a complicated knot, then pulled the hood off his head.

Nauseous and empty as I felt, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Bacchus?”

Bacchus pushed his spectacles up his nose and offered me a tired smile. “When I swore to the lord below I’d repay you, I didn’t think it would be quite this soon.”

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