RE: Monarch
Chapter 259: Kholis IV

The Everwood could not be tamed. This fact, once as self-evident as the air we breathed, now stood challenged. The forest had been visibly pushed back from where it encroached around Kholis, though it hadn't been purged. The vibrant flowering plants and wandering vines were allowed to proliferate through the new expansions, lending a sense of wild timelessness that simply hadn't been there before.

As we passed through, I must have looked quite the fool, twisting around and gawking as I went, trying to catalogue all the changes.

"That blacksmith we stopped at was near here." Maya twisted, squinting at the many signs that swung in the brisk autumn breeze, leaves of every color clinging to her boots as she walked. "Or at least I believe it was. This all looks… so very different."

"Aye. The man with the suspiciously wide stock. He was definitely nearby." I looked around, searching first for the business itself, then for familiar houses and establishments that had been adjacent to it. I found neither. Beyond that, it seemed like we were only getting farther from the city's center and with it, Lucius's manor. He pressed onward before us, seemingly in quite the hurry. I called up to him. "Is there a smithy nearby?"

"Throw a hammer. With all the lowhil we're raking in, you'll inevitably hit one." The joke didn't quite land, as something about his demeanor felt off, distracted.

"It would be an old business, potentially the only smith the village had."

Lucius's head turned, and he looked at me over his shoulder, eyes sparking in recognition. "Ah, that old bastard. Well, you'll be relieved to hear he's doing quite well." Lucius pointed to a building that looked vaguely familiar, though the sign, scent of baked goods, and items displayed in the window were entirely unfamiliar. "Packed up, sold the building to an elf who paid a pretty silver for the central location…"

Maya visibly deflated.

"… and dumped every bit of profit for that sale into commissioning a building he designed from the ground up and built in one of the new sections of town. He's a smug bastard these days, but he's doing well." Lucius shrugged.

"Maybe we could stop by on the way to wherever we're going?" Maya suggested hopefully.

"Trust me." Lucius smirked at us both. "Once we get there, your plans will change."

/////

With the three of us safely delivered, Luther broke from us to head into town, looking to scrounge up a bit of his own entertainment.

Lucius's earlier words echoed in my mind. I'm of sound mind when I point out that the phrase, when uttered about an unknown, is vaguely threatening no?

As a person who'd been on the receiving end of many such vagaries and direct threats of violence, simply due to the reality that being a blood relative to the king made any alternative impossible, I was accustomed to all variations of threats—both the empty sort and the sort that was not so empty.

Nothing Lucius had said had felt like a threat. After all, we weren't isolated. Many people knew where we'd gone and when to expect our return. The statement had carried no animus behind it. But something about it, be it either the words themselves, or the context with which it was said, set my teeth to grind and my gaze to constant vigilance.

I felt the same sensation I always experienced on the verge of a new reset. Going back, running through the day's events countless times, searching for anything obvious I might have missed, finding nothing, telling myself that everything was fine, that the anxiety and mounting fear were the product of a mind that was too often tempted to search for problems, finding imperfections where none existed, somehow creating the issues I was terrified to find simply on account of the searching.

As the sounds of the village faded, our surroundings becoming more sparse and overgrown, several houses came into view near the edge of the village, arranged near the boundary wall and nestled at the top of a clearing that was half forest, half meadow, as if the environment itself had sued for peace and drawn a compromise.

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There was nothing to fear from Lucius. I knew it in my heart. But my mind returned to that evening in Whitefall I'd been out celebrating with the men, similarly confident, only to be devastated.

I tried to relax and failed.

Every shadow became an assassin, lurking in the dark. Every odd reflection of light in the afternoon sun became a blade. I spent the final steps as we approached the building desperately taking in everything I could, looking for the source of the attack. The house itself was hideous, painted a dark color that landed somewhere between bile and the dark red clay of a riverbed. Its features grew more stark, severe, and disquieting with every step we took toward it. Black brambles moved as if conscious, spreading out and tightening over the iron gate.

"Stop." Maya barked, the word cracking with enough authority that Lucius's head snapped around. I slowed down beside her, demonstrating solidarity.

"Nearly there now." The baron's brow knitted together as he looked between us. "Am I putting you both through too much too quickly? We can head back to town—"

"Apologies," I said, dredging up a rueful grin. "We're a worrisome sort of friends to have. I've been getting an odd feeling—something about the mana feels off somehow. Even a little malevolent."

There was a short tense silence. Then Lucius struck his forehead with his palm. "Gods dammit. I'm such a fool."

"Lucius. Explain." Maya reiterated. But the scowling noble was too busy swatting brambles away and fiddling with the gate's lock.

A particularly thick vine brushed against his sleeve twice, applying enough pressure to mis-align the key with the lock until the Baron, seemingly losing his cool entirely, grabbed the vine in his gloved hand and shouted something indecipherable. All at once, the anxious feeling of burgeoning violence subsided. The shadows beneath the border wall shrank, becoming clearer and less threatening. What my mind had previously disregarded as an ordinary mess of weeds and uneven dirt was actually a garden planted in healthy dark soil, growing various herbs common in healing and apothecary work.

"This is not the way I'd planned to do this," Lucius murmured, staring at the house in distaste. "What you're feeling is a sort of magical repellent."

"So… a ward." Maya translated, a little slack-jawed. And for good reason. Wards were prohibitively expensive, both in terms of gold and sheer, horrifically inefficient, massive consumption of mana they required. "Lucius, whatever you're using this place for, I have to imagine that's overkill."

"And it would be," Lucius said as he stepped over a barely visible root, taking great care to avoid it. "If we were using the infernal methods."

Maya's jaw dropped. "It's Elven? You're protecting this place with an Elven ward?"

"Yes." Lucius said, not bothering to hide his pride. "Which on top of being more difficult to break, are a great deal more subtle. No burned out eyeholes or scorched mana circuits even if you force your way in. It… well mainly, it just makes you feel like shit the whole time you're giving it a once over."

"Or have the misfortune of existing nearby," I muttered, and Lucius laughed.

"That was an early concern. Amusing as it might be otherwise, the ward only affects those who intend to breach it and are absent from the list." He nodded along as Maya perked up. "Another difference between infernal and Elven variants, or so I'm told."

"It targets intent?" Maya's eyebrow rose sky-high. "We didn't even plan to trespass."

"Didn't have to." Lucius shifted his head. "It's designed to be flexible. You were following me, and as of a few minutes ago I decided to bring you here. As commissioner of the ward and current owner of this place, I wasn't aware that was possible. And even if it was, the mana investment must've been enormous."

"The specifics escape me." Lucius gave the front of the house a forlorn sigh, corners of his mouth quirking in a pained smile. "All I know is one night I was in the Maiden's Thimble, complaining—loudly—about the amount of traffic coming and going seemingly whenever I didn't happen to be attending this project personally, judging from the picked locks and forced windows." He paused, glancing between us. "Don't blame them for it. If your local lord spent years building a house with all manner of curiosities moving in and out of it, you'd be sticking your nose in first opportunity. Anyway, back to the tavern. A…" he briefly raised his hands and planted his index fingers perpendicular to the top of his ears, bringing them to a distinct point. "…tourist of the more elegant persuasion offered his services. Sleight for an elf. I was suspicious, at first, as was the wife. Can't live long in a small town without developing a healthy wariness towards those who call themselves traveling magicians. But he was the real deal, as you've both no doubt ascertained."

Without further explanation, the boy—no, baron—approached the house and swung the door open.

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