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Undying Empire: B3 — 9. Pandemic
🕑 Added 2021-10-16 11:43:50 +0000 UTC1. Elinor (Our Lich Empress!)
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The elevator touched the ground level, Elinor’s throne making its way forward as Sari’aél brought Fini and Azalea down from outside of the great tower to meet them at its front.
Theresa’s cool blue eyes tilted to appraise her as they moved toward the doors, large unintelligent red Quen’Talrat opening it for their exit before closing it behind them. “Empress, Valerie is bringing your coat. Would you like her to join us? Emelina prefers to have two Maids attending to you when possible.”
Elinor rolled the back of her hand against her cheek while shifting in her seat to appraise the motherly woman standing beside her throne. Valerie’s violin is quite soothing, and when combined with your voice, the two of you make quite the pair. If she’s not tied up in any other notable activities, I see no issue with her accompanying us.
The Maid nodded in acknowledgement, contacting the former amature model to relay the message. Elinor’s attention was focused on James Escobedo, her Head Butler; the man was escorting Jumi’calro to the Great Hall.
The Nalvean rune scribe had been adapting to his new life under Elinor’s protection; of course, that protection came with conditions. Jumi’kerune, his great-great-great-grandfather, would have been happy to end the boy’s life for failing to live up to his expectations, which gave him plenty of incentive to take her offer of sanctuary.
Now that she knew what they were dealing with, and the scope of the runecraft Ke’Thra’Ma had employed inside the great northern mountains, his addition was to be expected. If there was a means to save Noa, and the network she managed, he would be the current expert. At the very least, he’d have enough experience to give her a proper assessment of the damages.
Ramuk, Giliri, and the Quen’Talrat specialists had paused at the entrance of the tunnel, possibly sensing that action was being taken by her sudden movement from high in the tower to the lower floors.
Elinor’s gaze lowered to appraise her flaming left hand, resting in her lap; Tiffany, Edmon, and Iris would have felt the activation of Lich’s Conquest, but Sari’aél had already informed the Doom Guard and Witch while the Assassin was already tasked with her own mission.
A playful crease lifted the corner of her lip as they exited the Galaxy Hall and entered the Throne Room. This will be interesting.
Her portable chair used the stairway attached to the left wall to bring her to the lower level, where Valerie waited, holding an elegant black and turquoise-themed winter robe, embroidered in intricate silver patterns. There was some kind of white fur laced around the shoulders and chest to provide further fashion.
Elinor thought it was a little much, but it certainly looked to be something high royalty would wear; rising to her feet, the girl jumped up to join them, Theresa helping to wrap it around her frame as she held out her arms.
The way to the Grand Hall was currently closed, unintelligent green-furred Quen’Talrat standing to either side of the entrance on the exterior. How times have changed, she mused, lowering her head slightly while Theresa gently lifted her hair to situate it at the coat’s back.
“Much progress has been made,” Theresa replied.
Valerie’s bright tone swiftly jumped in. “I’m thankful that you’ve allowed me to brighten everyone’s work days with my music, Empress. I’ve never been able to play for so long before.”
Elinor hummed, studying the blonde’s happy expression; she really was the opposite of herself—bright and bubbly in every way. The former model’s fashion was on point for whatever look she was going for, and since she’d had the option to design her outfit herself, it only further accentuated her personality.
The light blue bow and accessories attached to her naturally swirl-like ponytail put a few questions in Elinor’s mind as to how she prepared the style. Considering she didn’t have to sleep must have made keeping it in place easier, and her clothes rode the line between maid and K-Pop star.
Sitting back once the robe was in place, Elinor’s lips tightened, vision falling to the girl’s bare thighs and knee-high boots. What was the design choice on the belt?
Valerie blinked, golden eyes falling to the accessory while extending her right leg a little. “This? Umm, to be honest, heh, well, to draw people’s eyes,” she admitted with an embarrassed grin. “Certain people are attracted to different parts of the body, so I like to put effort in drawing them to those areas.”
For dancing? Elinor asked, knowing the girl liked to move while playing the violin.
“Mhm! It’s a whole performance, and every action you take adds to the theme. I, eh, kind of do need to get a more somber outfit to match the Empire’s theme, though,” she forced a chuckle, tightening her hands behind her back.
I’d love to see you perform a show once we get the stages ready for use. It will be fun to see the differences and settings that can be used in both amphitheater and theater format. Vocals can be magnified with magic and perhaps even visuals could be enhanced as we develop.
Valerie’s eyes sparkled, excitement practically oozing out of her as the drone began their progress to the Great Hall. “I would love to perform, Empress, but would that be allowed for a Maid? Aren’t we supposed to be kind of, well, act a certain way in public? I try not to embarrass the position you’ve given me.”
Elinor’s smile became a line. Acting childish is one thing, but expressing yourself should be at the core of who you are, Valerie. I don’t want you to be indistinguishable from one another but to add a bit of yourself to my day when you are with me.
“I see,” Valerie whispered, looking at Theresa's cool and collected demeanor. “Okay, I’ll do my best!”
That being said, Elinor sighed, We should make you each a winter outfit because I feel somewhat out of place now. Put it on the list, Theresa.
Valerie’s hands rested at her front while taking the opposite side of the throne; they entered the Great Hall.
A small chuckle shook the woman’s chest. “I will see to it, Empress. By the way, shall I call another drone for Jumi’calro?”
At the comment, it suddenly occurred to her that there wasn’t a chance the Nalvean could keep up with them, and the moment he was outside of the temperature regulated palace, he’d be a walking popsicle.
A few passing parties of humans returning or going outside stiffened upon seeing her, bowing their heads, and Elinor appraised the pair that were waiting for them as the doors opened.
James was already in place with the nervous Nalvean; a satchel was thrown around his neck, carrying the supplies he thought he’d need, which included some dried food since he still needed to eat. Elinor was impressed by the Head Butler’s thoughtfulness, providing blankets that bundled the salamander’s body.
That … would probably be ideal, she muttered.
James smoothly explained what they were waiting on to the rune scribe as the Nalvean started to nervously twitch; he even jumped once the Throne Room doors closed with a hollow boom that echoed around the quiet hall as her presence spread.
“I’d suggest the one Violet added a box to since he is not agile enough to retain his balance at the speed we will be moving.”
Good point, Elinor nodded, feeling the command go out, and the stationary spider on the 2nd-level basement started to make its way up to them at a swift pace. Sometimes I forget how fragile the living are… Heh, and I’ve only been undead for around three weeks.
“Mmh,” Valerie nodded, gazing around the colossal interior of the hall. “It feels so much longer to me because I haven’t slept, and the days are longer here. It really is a magical place.”
The drone arrived, and Jumi’calro hesitantly boarded the creature, using James’s guiding hand as a support while using the folding ladder Violet had attached to its side with a strap. Once James secured the device and returned to his duties, they continued on their path.
Elinor caught more than a few mutters from the Ri’bot and humans around the hall as they watched her exit. She noticed many children bouncing with excitement and frustration in what appeared to be small classrooms where parents lectured them about safety.
“Why is the Empress on fire like that?” a young boy asked his father, looking up at her in awe.
The man cleared his throat and shook his head. “I don’t know, but make sure to bow your head.”
On the other hand, word was spreading quickly on the Ri’bot’s side. “She’s on fire again, Chief!”
“Is there trouble?”
“Chief, what should we do—do we offer our support?”
“Do we cheer?”
Chief and Plant Caller Nina, the Delthax’s new overseer, shook her head. “No, if we were not called to action, we are to go about our daily lives. Keep your prayers in your hearts for Empress Elinor’s success; she protects us from the other Supreme Chiefs.”
“Yes, Chief!” shouted the throng, beginning their ritualistic mutters and prayers that Tiffany had suggested they learn; the Witch believed religious actions would help to strengthen their connection to her.
Neutral to the proposition, Elinor had to admit that she had experienced a bump in loyalty among her followers as the religious practices were implemented. Soon making it beyond the palace, Elinor saw her three escorts waiting at the giant steps—her focus was pulled beyond them, though.
In the courtyard and around the large square fountain—practically an Olympic swimming pool—children, teens, and adults played together as the heavy snowfall layered white ground.
Sloppy snow families, past pets, and even a large Quen’Talrat was in the works of being constructed by several teenagers—not that she could do much better with her own experience—predictably, both the snow angel and six-winged Seraph were a popular choice of project.
Judging by the warm outfits they wore, Elinor assumed Mauricio, her Groundskeeper, had succeeded in crafting a loom and spinning wheels; it helped when a few of the men had experience in fashioning tools. For wool, the Delthax had domesticated creatures that could be sheared; Elinor hadn’t seen them yet, but it certainly was a good addition to their Empire’s products.
The fur pelts of the animals killed by her forces for their food appeared to be used, as well, which seemed to be very new by the look of the garments.
Elinor figured the women had gotten up early and begun their work once Azalea’s prediction of snow had been bounced to Lucky, spreading to the different communities from there. The new safety rules being taught to the kids that had recently received their warm clothes must have been the reason for the sight.
Thankfully, the wind was dying down, and upon looking up, Elinor’s face was met by the thick, clumped flakes that tickled her nose and cheeks. I haven’t seen snow often in my life, living in California, she whispered.
Valerie hugged herself, even if she shouldn’t have felt the cold, smiling at the veil of snow that barely gave any visibility to the fountain. “I grew up in the north, so I’ve played in snow since I was a little girl. What about you, Theresa?”
The motherly maid’s eyebrow lifted, suppressing a self-conscious shiver. “Most of the humans brought to this planet came from my hometown … In the jungles of Colombia, we’ve only seen this sight in movies.”
Sari’aél, Fini, and Azalea floated down to their side, and Elinor smirked upon seeing the ice melt long before touching the Seraph’s immaculate figure. Are you ready for war?
They started their swift march; Fini and Azalea ran beside her while Sari’aél floated nearby, easily breaking the chill and air resistance with her radial presence.
Fini sounded somewhat disgruntled as they went. “I am, Empress … I cannot get used to this wet … slippery white stuff—grr, I’ve fallen twice, already.”
A snicker ran through Azalea’s mental connection to them. “I’ve told you to watch your step; it will become increasingly difficult once it compacts and freezes—oh, and ice seems to be so much fun; my big sister is going to teach me how to do the skating things the humans talk about!”
“I’ll stick with running on grass—eek! Eh, and—and stone,” Fini grumbled, almost taking another tumble while keeping their pace.
Finding the Nalvean’s girly cry funny, Elinor shifted her focus to Sari’aél. How has your time with the children been? I heard you’ve been having a challenging time with their games.
The winged woman gave her what Elinor figured was a sour expression, yet even that seemed to grant her an unconventional form of beauty. “Jumping rope was challenging—building one of those snow sculptures is impossible. Quite literally impossible,” she repeated herself, but despite her outward frustration, Elinor could tell she was eating up every moment. “Who knew children could be so devious in their plots to show me my place?”
Imagine that, Elinor grinned, watching the snow blow around them, repelled by Sari’aél’s protective aura, the greatest foe you’ve ever faced are children’s games.
“By my father,” she sighed, “I cannot understand why you would call such competitive trials of skill ‘children’s games’ when all of the adult ones I have experienced thus far have been as simple as spreading my wings. Is it a ploy—deception? If so, I cannot sense it!” she exclaimed in genuine curiosity.
Azalea hopped to the side, staring at the Seraph with a confused smile. “That jump rope game? I’m undefeated! Would you like to have a competition when we return? My older sister will likely join.”
“It is a challenge!” Sari’aél smiled, not intending to lose if it was Azalea; she actually believed the children were hidden geniuses. “I have already lost twenty-four rounds with the children and owe them as many stories of my home. To what shall we offer, as the game requires?”
Elinor could feel Theresa and Valerie holding back laughter, but Fini gave off waves of fear at the prospect that the angel had lost so often against human children, practically thinking the kids were hidden demon lords in disguise.
“Oh, a bet?” Azalea asked, slipping into her human form to begin her typical acrobatics; Elinor listened intently to the exchange. “How about,” the spider girl’s eyes wandered a bit before settling on the Seraph, “you train Camellia and I a bit in combat?”
Sari’aél blinked, head tilting to the side and a thoughtful hum resonating in her throat. “I do not see why such a thing would be so important to you—these children’s games require serious stakes, but if that is what you wish, I will comply.”
“Oh?! Oh?!” Azalea asked in excitement as they made it to the road to the underground mining passage. “What serious reward are you going to demand from me?”
“Naturally,” the Seraph chuckled, tossing back her silver hair, “You will teach me the tricks the children use to best me!”
Elinor wanted to fall out of her throne by the total confidence in Sari’aél’s condition; she hadn’t wavered in the least. Erm … Sari’aél, you do realize that if Azalea hasn’t lost to the children, it’s likely she’s not going to lose to you?
“Undetermined!” Sari’aél replied, puffing out her chest. “I have been practicing for three days, and I have improved significantly in said time! I have accomplished five dodges of the unpredictable rope!”
It wasn’t just Elinor that didn’t know how to respond to the angel’s declaration; Valerie and Theresa only gave forced laughs and awkward claps.
The Seraph’s confidence faltered a little while glancing between them, likely reading between the lines of what her Nexus transmitted and their physical reactions. “You … do not have faith in my success? I have been applying myself to an extent I have never experienced! I will win one of these jump rope contests by my seventh day, so I have vowed!”
“Good luck!” Valerie said, doing her best to sound supportive.
Elinor figured she couldn’t sense the children’s innocent actions of not accounting for her large wing size, making the circle actually impossible for her to accomplish without using flight.
Opinion, Theresa, Valerie? Elinor asked, pulling them into a branching private conversation with her to try and isolate their responses.
“She’s doomed,” Valerie chuckled.
Theresa discharged a long stream of air. “I’ve witnessed her attempts … Her training has consisted of making herself as small as possible, folding in her wings, and physically, there’s a limit on how tight she can fold them around her body … I agree, she’s just not suited to the game without accommodating her size, which the children won’t do because they think she’s funny.”
Jumi’calro was totally oblivious to the conversation, stuck shivering in a box as the silent wind and falling snow cascaded around his closed-in, threaded receptacle. Fini was far more focused on keeping her balance and internally worrying about Noa than what she thought was frivolous talk believing there were greater priorities while the runic AI was suffering.
Personally, Elinor found the comments Sari’aél and Azalea leveled at each other to be quite amusing; both weren’t being aggressive in the least, yet if you didn’t know their intent, you couldn’t tell.
However, her mind soon drifted away from the various games the two discussed, including hide and seek—another one the Seraph was bound to lose—Elinor went through her plan again. A few realizations had struck her over the past three weeks, and this furnished her with an opportunity to test a theory out.
After a time, they entered the mines, transferring to the railing system for convenience before making their way out and to the broken wall beside the corridor’s hidden entrance. Elinor found it funny no other protection was put into place to stop known creatures like Thélméthra from breaking in.
Then again, Fini had mentioned Ke’Thra’Ma’s project here wasn’t complete, and considering the sheer size, or what she assumed was the multi-mountain’s unusual inner workings, she could see why there were weak points.
Ramuk, Giliri, and the other Quen’Talrat met her at the entrance; Giliri was on the opposite spectrum as her friend, playing around in the snow.
Making it inside, Elinor tightened her coat; it wasn’t from the chill. Piles of insect corpses lined the walls, yet her onterague was confused as she bypassed the dead.
“E-Empress?” Fini asked.
Valerie rubbed her bare shoulders, shivering as silence surrounded them in the seemingly infinite hallway of the dead. Theresa calmly waited for what Elinor was going to do, having total faith in her security. Ramuk led the way, allowing Elinor to fully understand the scope of what they were walking into.
She brought her knuckles up to her cheek, elbow resting on the side of her throne as her focus wandered. Mhm … An impressive flash army we can harvest as needed … It is not required at this time. All I need is a few fresh corpses, and any one of you can provide that once we’ve entered the battle.
A gleam twinkled in Elinor’s emerald irises. After all, a Lich doesn’t fight fair. Fini, how long until we reach the area Noa can appear to us?
“A while, Empress,” she responded, now a tad curious as to what she was planning.
Sari’aél was giving her a small smile; the two of them had touched on her thoughts earlier. “We will increase our speed then.”
It didn’t take long for them to reach the bridging point; even with their large group, the massive corridors were built to accommodate Ke’Thra’Ma’s definition of space—of which went past even the normal sizings of the giant ape’s architecture.
Elinor instantly noticed the transition from Ke’Thra’Ma’s beginning phases of construction to those in development once reaching black granite; the element was a staple for the giant ape, and Tiffany had confirmed it was far more durable than the material they had on Earth.
They stopped once the colossal ape manifested at its edge, colors swirling into being before Noa materialized; it was more mesmerizing than she imagined. Honestly, it was difficult for her to differentiate between Ke’Thra’Ma and this AI.
Noa’s four large blue eyes shifted between targets before settling on her; Elinor’s legs were crossed, fingers folded together while appraising the fine specimen of brutality.
Of course, it was an act, and in the face of Ramuk, she didn’t even try to hide it, vision falling to Fini. “I told you, there’s nothing for you to gain here … If you go beyond the refinery, you will turn my foes' attention upon you, and I can no longer repel their swarm.”
Elinor was the only one that spoke, tongue sliding across her lips at the prospect of what lay untapped before her. “Noa, I am Empress Elinor … I have met your creator.”
Those words froze the atmosphere; Noa’s large eyes fixated on her. “The Ke … When did you meet my creator … Does he live?”
Small smile falling a bit, Elinor hummed, making a visible gesture for the others to stay back as she rose to her feet. “I have quite a bit I wish to discuss with you, Noa. For now, Sari’aél and Fini will accompany me.”
The Thélméthra she rode lifted three of its legs, forming them into steps that cycled to the floor as Fini nervously jogged to her side and the Seraph smoothly took her left. Noa watched in surprise as the Quen’Talrat Elite Hunter stepped aside, slamming his fists against his plated chest in silent salute.
Proceeding forward, the large eight-limbed ape woman stepped to the side as she strode onto the black granite, passively scanning various objects ahead, such as the gem light sources. “Will you entertain me, Noa?”
She hesitated, glancing back at Ramuk’s dark glare, practically daring her to deny his Empress. “I … do not have anything better to do,” she muttered, turning away from the much smaller Elite Hunter, a quake running down her frame.
Elinor felt a little bad for her; clearly, ever since she could observe her environment, she’d seen the respect Ke’Thra’Ma didn’t even have to demand—he was so impressive, those opposite him bowed, losing the will to resist or run. She wanted to emulate who she admired but was severely put in her place by Azalea and Ramuk’s challenge she couldn’t gather the willpower to counter.
“However, before we continue,” Elinor started, turning to look at Jumi’calro as the young Nalvean boy exited his spider-powered carriage, “I’d like to introduce you to my expert rune scribe.”
Jumi’calro hadn’t even taken a glance around to see the giant ape, squinting in the near-black space; he couldn’t see Noa since she wasn’t actually glowing, and the light only began further up the corridor.
He worked out his stiff muscles in the temperate underground facility; peering around at the fairly dim hall, which was likely meant to conserve power; all he would have seen would be the unidentifiable silhouettes around him. “R-Right, Empress, umm … Can I have some light? I can’t see a thing in this cave!”
Noa’s forehead furrowed as he spoke. “I … cannot understand this one of your kind, Fini? He speaks gibberish—is he dumb?”
Fini hissed, holding up her hands. “No! No, Noa, try to be more respectful; you’re in the presence of Empress Elinor.”
“Hmm?” Noa’s vision darted to her, no doubt confused by her petite stature. “I … am more impressed by the floating creature beside you.”
Sari’aél giggled. “I am but a humble servant of the Empress.”
The angel’s melodic tone drew Jumi’calro’s askance gaze, yet it didn’t last long before moving to the semi-illuminated white ape above her. “I can hardly … Eh … Eh … Is—are we meeting with the White Canc—aah, fishtail?!” He locked up in shock, falling off the Thélméthra in his fright.
Giliri sighed, jumping forward to catch him in a princess carry before setting him down; she needed to support the trembling man, which she didn’t seem used to. “C’mon, man,” she whispered, “where’s your tail touching, too?” she grumbled, batting it away with her empennage as they made contact.
He stumbled against his ride’s leg, trying to stabilize himself. “I just—w-what am I d-doing here, Empress?! Heh, can I get back in the…”
Elinor calmly waited, giving him a dull look. Not the most promising start.
“Sari’aél.”
The woman’s countenance brightened, bathing the hallway in light.
He hesitantly creep forward as she continued to stare at him; the boy kept an eye on the unimpressed ten-meter-tall Quen’Talrat, though.
“Be at ease,” Sari’aél encouraged.
A hard swallow fell down Jumi’calro’s throat before being calmed by the angel’s presence. “R-Right, umm … ahem, what is…”
Jumi’calro’s vision defocused, forgetting his fear entirely as his head darting to Elinor and then the corridor. “This sensation in my skin and bones is … What am I feeling?”
He trailed off, mouth dropping open as his widening eyes scanned the floor, ceiling, and walls. A quick shake shook his body as he swiftly reached into his hand back, fighting past the layers of cloth wrapped around him to stumble to the edge of the granite, strange instrument between his fingers.
There we go … Get lost in your fascination, Elinor smiled. “What do you make of this?”
“I—ahem, one moment—I just need to … phenomenal,” he gasped, falling to his knees and lightly tapping the tail end of the strange pick against the floor.
The world swam with layers of colors, symbols, and lines, making it look like a highly complicated mix of ancient Scandinavian, astrological, alchemic, and other esoteric designs that fit together in a perfect mesh of geometry. The unusual language was written within or as the lines themselves, creating something alien to Elinor.
“This is … This is a masterpiece,” Jumi’calro exclaimed, head darting up to stare at Noa and then Elinor. “Did—is all of this crafted by the Quen’Talrat? How versed were they in rune scribing? Because this,” he gestured at the radiance escalating throughout the entire hallway, “this is on a level my ancestor dreamed—no, I can’t even say he would have conceptualized something so grand!”
Noa’s two left feet took a step back, looking somewhat perturbed by the Nalvean’s crazed eyes and quickening breath. “Is—he mad? I would rather not have an insane rune scribe damage my infrastructure—even if it will fail soon.”
Elinor held up her hand, noting how passive the woman was when dealing with anyone that had even a measure of confidence and authority. “He is praising Ke’Thra’Ma for his scope and depth in the craft … Now, I will leave him to study the style, as I’m sure it is somewhat different than what he is accustomed to.”
“By the sea goddess,” Jumi’calro exclaimed, “this is gorgeous! How did he link—oh, how clever! He-he-he, how very clever … I see, mmh, this would have saved days of work! And here—do you see this?!” he asked, lunging to the wall to point at some scribble to Elinor, talking to no one in particular. “This is brilliant—elegant beyond anything I’ve seen!”
He suddenly blinked and cleared his throat, catching everyone’s expression. “Ah—Ah, yes, yes! Umm, Empress,” he gave her a deep bow, “I will examine every inch of this marvel! I thought your capital was a work of art, but this … I’m learning things I never thought possible—combinations, variations, dualistic purposes that shave off years from work! This—this is a treasure beyond words!”
“Have fun,” Elinor smirked, turning to walk down the hall. “Do not mind him, Noa; he is only here to study as of now, but I will say now, he might be able to save you.”
“Save?” Jumi’calro muttered, shifting to look at Giliri. “What does the Empress mean by that? Tell me! Surely this repository of ancient secrets is not in danger of damage?! No … No, we must protect it at all costs!”
“Aye, chill … Gross, get off my arm…” Giliri muttered, brushing his frantic pleas away. “Look, I don’t know—somethin’ about losing power or something.”
“Ah—Ah, yes, wait … the feedback … Hmm—I can start there, yes … hmm…” he began muttering to himself.
Menorah shuffled over to see if she could talk to him, but the Quen’Talrat novice scribe was left with a blank face as he began spouting off gibberish that none of them would get, pointing and crying about how primitive and unrefined—unworthy his eyes were to behold such art.
Elinor had long since made her exit, only hearing bits and pieces of the exchange as a nervous Noa, Fini, and serene Sari’aél followed. “Noa, I am going to ask you a straightforward question.”
“Hmm? Ah, eh—yes, Empress?” she asked, tasting the name on her tongue.
She let the following silence stew, causing the noise behind them to escalate. “What would you say if I handled your enemies—crushed them using only a small portion of my power? What would you say if I restored power to you and this network you safeguard? What would you say if I offered you a position of authority within my Empire?”
They paused, Noa’s out-of-focus eyes processing the three questions Elinor had presented.
Fini cleared her throat. “Think about it, Noa! You’ll get the respect you deserve … You won’t be looked down upon. Empress Elinor is beyond powerful—she controls life! She keeps her word, too.”
“Fini, let her think,” Elinor said in a soft voice.
The girl jumped and gave her a quick bow. “S-Sorry, Empress! I’m just…”
Sari’aél nodded, hovering over to put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I understand, Fini; you identify with Noa. You’ve both doubted your life and the path you are on.”
Noa took a shuddering breath, tight hands trembling against the shimmering granite floor. “I … have never had someone offer me anything such as that, Empress Elinor. I was designed by the Ke, though … I have a task … But I cannot fulfill that if I die. I … don’t want to die,” she whispered, dread and pain etched in her eyes upon looking down at them. “I should be proud to die … Why am I not? Why am I a failure?”
“Mmh,” Elinor walked ahead a few paces, “strong questions, Noa. Do you believe those feelings stem from your own thoughts of mismanagement—the state of the charge given you?”
When she turned, she saw tears in the pitiful expression of the monstrous ape woman. “I … tried my best.”
Fini’s hands were held tightly at her sides, focused on Elinor, but she remained silent.
“Indeed, you have,” Sari’aél replied, floating up to her eye-level. “So, why do you feel as if you are a failure? Is there something else eating at your core?”
“My core?” Noa repeated, using one arm to fall against the side of the wall, legs sprawling out. “I … do not feel worthy of being the Ke’s daughter … I am insufficient—able to win a battle but not a war. Why am I weak?” Her chest heaved, body trembling while burying her heads in her arms.
Elinor looked at the various dead spots in the convoluted puzzle registering around them. “Noa, perhaps you are simply looking at things in the wrong light.”
“Hmm … How?” she asked, puffy eyes lifting to look at her.
Grasping her hands behind her back, Elinor stared forward as Sari’aél informed her that one of the insects was making its way down the halls, and it had turned their way. Smiling up at the vulnerable AI, Elinor marveled at how real Ke’Thra’Ma had designed this woman; he didn’t utilize her to her potential, though, blinded by personal strength.
Noa’s shakes stopped as she listened, vision becoming unfocused while conceptualizing her proposition. “You are not meant to replace the Ke, Noa—nor necessarily be his daughter. You are something new—not to be the chattel of an Empire, but a functional and productive member of it—an integral piece in the prosperity of its future.”
Fini’s heart bloomed with emotion, feeling the words resonate in her own breast, and Sari’aél hovered nearby.
Elinor kept her tone soft and sincere. “I am here to tell you there is a way to move forward. Will it be easy? No. It’s not,” she whispered, knowing the AI could hear her. “You will need support from those that care for you,” she gestured at the Nalvean girl, “such as Fini.”
Noa’s conflicted blue eyes darted further down the tunnel, and Elinor chuckled. “Yes, I know, we have company, but what are a few bugs compared to the discussion we are having now … No,” her vision closed, and a soft chuckle shook her frame, “perhaps I need to show you my words are not wasted breath … Sari’aél.”
Elinor shifted her posture, eyes opening to see one of the unusual rock-like creatures scurrying toward them. Its jaws snapped, blade-like pincers agitating. It reached four feet from her, causing Noa’s body to lock up in fright. “No, you mustn't … It has … Hmm?”
A light golden glow surrounded the wriggling fiend, lifting it into the air, and it shot a spray of gas that curved around Elinor from the Seraph’s telekinetic manipulations, creating an invisible curved shield in front of her.
Head tilting to the side, Elinor appraised the shrinking monster. “This will do nicely.”
Noa swiftly rose to her feet, jumping forward and causing the rock-ant to squeal in a high-pitched voice. “This is a scout—its cries will bring dozens more!”
“Wonderful,” Elinor commented, cupping her chin while leering into its flat, six circular orange eyes; fumes of some kind expelled from bulb-like growths on its back, spraying discolored liquid across the ground. “I need it to be at least somewhat alive.”
Sari’aél stepped forward and, in one swift motion, six feet away, severed part of its middle leg with her stiff hand; brown liquid splattered across the floor. “Messy things,” she mused.
Elinor lifted her flaming fingers, creating a butterfly that gently flapped its way toward the open wound. “Something I discovered as a Lich was that I have a few untapped methods of killing my enemies that I can accomplish myself, using their soldiers against them. You see…”
Noa’s questioning gaze fixated on the butterfly with Fini as it landed on the flailing limb, converting into flame before absorbing into the wound. It froze, twitching in the next moment as glowing green veins illuminated up its length, moving to its eyes.
“An infection,” Noa gasped. “It’s—unlike anything I’ve examined … taking over the motor and processing functions…”
Elinor laughed. “It’s called a zombie, Noa—a creature infected with a disease that prompts them to spread the disease by transferring bodily fluids. You’ll learn how it functions as they spread. I can also reanimate them as unintelligent minions once the disease runs its course.”
Sari’aél let her new mind-controlled minion drop to the floor as it twitched in unnatural ways, foam leaking from its mouth.
“Now, go turn your brothers and launch the initial assault of our campaign,” Elinor ordered, giving Noa a visual and verbal understanding of just a taste of her power.
The scout rigidly lifted to its five remaining limbs before scurrying off at a quicker pace than it had attacked, pushed by the disease rotting its mind.
Noa was quiet for a time, following the creature’s advance and subsequent attack on the other members of its scouting party; it sustained damage but managed to turn the three that answered its call for aid—just as a zombie movie usually played out—a call for help and the one that answered would be the spark of the pandemic.
Elinor sighed, calling for her attendants further back to join her, sending Fini back to be with her friend. They’d remain by Jumi’calro and the Quen’Talrat’s sides for their protection while the group went about their runic studies. “There are pros and cons to this approach.”
Azalea and Ramuk were instantly by her side, and she ascended to her throne again, Theresa and Valerie adjusting her clothes.
“What … is this horrifying plague?” Noa mumbled in shock. “It spreads so swiftly, turning them against each other. What failing can possibly be found in such a weapon?”
Elinor frowned, glaring after the zombies as they followed their initial directive. “I can only point and shoot with these types of zombies; they will die very swiftly, and the power of the disease will weaken in each consecutive infection until the creature’s immune system can counter it, but if we are speaking about efficiency, it is beyond measure.”
She snickered. “Seeing as I can just infect another and spread it around indiscriminately, in a battlefield where I care nothing for casualties, genocide is quite simple.”
“Such frightening power…” Noa whispered in awe, watching her virus do its work against her long hated enemy.
Elinor pushed forward with her vanguard; to her, this was quite the successful trial. Of course, she had to conduct further experimentation on how long it would last and how many was the appropriate number to infect.
At least I have a killswitch, and I can sense the spread of the virus through the Nexus; in addition, these living zombies don’t actually count toward my end-of-day death toll … Heh, quite the hidden biological weapon.
“Well?” Elinor asked, glancing over at the stunned ape. “My first question is being fulfilled, Noa … What would you do if I exterminated your pest problem? Hmm … Hold that thought, and ponder the rest of what I said. I have a war to win—although, can you really call it that?” she giggled.
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Comments
Martynas Samsonas
Elinor used Zombie apocalypse. It was super effective. :D thanks for the chapter
