Vol. 3, Ch. 133: Coven Conventions
Neska spent the next two seconds assessing which explanation would sound less crazy, and realized they all sounded crazy. Therefore, it didn't matter which one she used. “I can…sort of explain.”
The woman walked around the counter and gave Neska a very affectionate hug, before she could. “Oh my goodness, Risha, I heard the rumors that you were dead! But I knew, I knew, that you had a backup plan!” The woman’s grip was unusually strong. Maybe she would make a better lamia than herself? “I thought I recognized the hat! But how and why are you in this body?”
Should she try to play off this misidentification, and learn something she wouldn’t otherwise have learned? No, that would likely lead to heartbreak later with even more devastating consequences. No doubt, Risha’s absence was widely known, but her death should still be under wraps.
That was, if certain professors kept their mouths closed.
Neska cleared her throat. “Okay, this is going to be really confusing and a touch awful, but I’m not Risha.”
The woman took a step back, hands still trailing along Neska’s flanks. “But, you sound just like her! And you sorta look like that snake of hers! My Gods, Risha, did you make an Awakened out of your own familiar to stave off death or something?!”
Neska had been wondering about that possibility, with one twist: Pas had been sacrificed to save her. But she had this feeling that Pas was still alive, off on his own agenda. Though in this instance, she wondered who, exactly, her donor monster was.
She still had no idea why people thought she sounded just like Risha. That made Serkin, Kalloway, and this mystery woman having said the same thing. It was more than an eerie coincidence. Maybe a piece of Risha did survive within her, some strange imprint of the Awakening ritual and how Risha cast it?
She settled on the truth, and shook her head. “No. I’m not her. I’m Neska. I’m not sure who, exactly, I was, except that others know me as some kind of hidden…"
She struggled with the word. Prodigy? No, she wasn’t skilled enough for that. “Her hidden apprentice,” she finished. “But who are you?”
The woman looked taken aback. “Suzie. I used to get her supplies. I was part of one of the covens until I got sour on the politics between the few competing covens on the campus. Those other groups sure are snippy." She took a step back, letting out a contented sigh. “Well met, then. But, if you’re not Risha, then where is she?”
“Introductions, first? This is Trevor Marisano, a fellow student of mine.” She gestured to Trevor, and her–oh, her tail had wrapped around him again, and he gave an anxious laugh. “Hey, no snugs without permission,” she said, pointing at her tail.
She was blaming her [Prehensile Tail] ability for this misbehavior.
“A pleasure,” Trevor said, shaking her hand after stepping out of the tail coil. “I must say, are you associated with the academy? I thought the faculty weren’t aware of this place.”
“Oh, they most certainly are! They turn a blind eye to students blowing off steam and pursuing free economics. Within reason,” she said, gesturing to the display. “So, you do know Risha. You’re Awakened?”
Before Neska could answer, Syrona took that moment where she’d been slumbering in Neska’s bag to poke her head out, letting out a yawning hiss. Suzie stared at the creature, currently stretching her wings.
“Oh, sorry, forgot an introduction. This is Syrona," Neska announced. "She's my companion. Sorta." The snake tilted her head and flicked her tongue, as if trying to imply, really? Really?!
Suzie’s face beamed fascination. “A coatyl? Goodness me, did I not forecast some cosmic event today?”
“Doubtful. Anyway, I was saying, I’m still picking up the pieces,” Neska added unhappily. “You must have known Risha well to recognize the hat. And the voice.”
“I did, for a time. Oh goodness, you said that past-tense. Oh no, oh nooo,” she wailed, her legs becoming unsteady. Trevor quickly brought her the barstool from behind the counter, and Suzie wobbled at this terrible news. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”
That all-too-familiar stone-in-her-throat sensation returned for Neska. She cleared her throat and guided the woman to a seat. “I must report her untimely, and personally tragic demise. I’m afraid I can’t give you more than that. I’m sorry. I wish I had better news for you.”
She filled her in on the bare-bones information, but left out large parts of the Seekers, Markus, and her continued goals. The poor woman nodded wearily, and fought back tears bravely as she continued to listen. When Neska was done, she removed her hat, pressing it gently over her chest.
“Oh goodness, why do all the good ones die young or unfulfilled?" She sniffed a couple of times and wiped her eyes with the hem of her dress. “Thank you for telling me all that. Sorry, I’m usually not this emotional. Oh, damn, I was too hopeful she was back. She stormed outta the campus in a hurry, that’s for sure. I hadn’t seen her for months before that. It was…goodness, four years ago?”
“Did Risha ever talk about her work? What happened in that last year?” Neska asked. “The professors have been rather…reluctant to talk about her. I’m getting an unsettling feeling there’s a reason for that.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “None of them had the balls to do what she needed to end this war! That's what they're all shutting up about! It's all tied to Arivol, and shutting down the source. This whole Varadur thing is like one giant curse, Neska. And curses can be broken.”
The Radiant King was a curse upon the world, alright, but she'd never heard of a curse manifesting monsters or all-powerful, interface-breaking entities. “So there was a plan.”
“Of course. There was always a plan to push towards Arivol. The curse of the Varadur spreads outward like a tree made of rot, spreading its roots further and further. More animals and monsters get afflicted every year.”
"Even without a nearby Instance?"
"Yes, but slower. It's the part people don't talk about enough."
Trevor was currently cupping his hands to his cheeks. "So it's a creeping doom, and we absolutely have to deal with it, or it could terraform the world? Oh, that is bad. I have heard this theory."
“I thought the exact means of converting the native monsters was still unknown,” Neska pointed out. “Is there proof?” She'd never seen anything of the sort in Risha's journals. That was a glaring omission she hoped that damn crystal around her neck would fill the gap on.
Suzie nodded. “Out by the Sarpathi expanse. Risha dealt with some fey folk years ago, said they gained evolutions with no outward influence, out in the Whispering Woods. Strangely, they never attacked, which is what you’d expect the Varadur to do at the first opportunity. She got recalled to deal with a lot of other things as I recall, so no one ever followed up. Why, you might ask? Because nothing ever happens out there, not a peep. One of her lamentations to me, at any rate,” Suzie affirmed.
She found that bit of information interesting. Trevor had a fascinated look on his face. “The fey of the Whispering Woods? The whole place is a collection of odd and understudied creatures,” he breathed. “So what caused it?”
“No idea. No one ever bothered to check it out after Risha dealt with some Varadur called the Monarch. Damn pompous title if I ever heard one, but this was…oh, fifteen years ago or so.” Suzie frowned, gesturing to the two of them. “Ah, listen to me gab, you came here for supplies for your wizard here? I got some stuff…”
“For me, actually.” Neska’s soft-spoken words got the witch’s attention. “I have some witch powers that are identical to the class. That includes ritual work. I need supplies to run diagnostic rituals. And an athame, as well.”
Suzie looked at her blankly, then laughed. “You, a witch? It isn't just about hats, dear!”
Neska summoned a vine with her [Woven Root Hex], animating a hanging planter. Suzie stared in disbelief as she twirled the leafy tendril around her own wrist with great delicacy. “Can lamias cast hexes?” Neska challenged.
“Usually not.” Suzie sighed and pressed her folded hands to her chest, making a silent prayer to one of the divines. “Goodness, if you're down here, I'm going to assume you plan on doing something probably dangerous.”
“Hardly. We were forced to improvise our equipment because the Academy is locked down due to the Seekers' investigation. I need to clear up that problem by finding their person of interest, and getting new tools and supplies is difficult without leaving campus.”
Suzie waved her over to a display covered by a glass case. “Then let's get started. Got any coin? I won't ask for the full price.”
Trevor showed off the preserved carapace. “Got any use for chitin or venom sacs? We can barter; we planned to from the beginning.”
Her eyes brightened. “Ooh, parasitic wasps! And some variants of them too. Definitely not common, and the venoms are useful! Still not fully researched, either.” She took one in hand, weighing it before running her fingers along the chitinous flank. “Very intact, too. I see a couple mana burns on this one, but a clean entry and exit. Guessing this was your handiwork, Neska?”
“My mana bolts took care of that one.” She didn’t elaborate further. “Can you work with these?”
The witch scoffed. “My dear, if that crazy witch Risha had half a plan, and she intended for you to have it, there’s likely several powerful items and equipment in her office, or down here. She had some kind of cache that she mentioned once. Dunno if the other professors know about it. I presume they do.”
Well, that was more incentive to level up faster. A cache of equipment? Risha might have more items suited for a witch. She glanced at Trevor, eyes lit up with fascination. “So can you use these? I set some aside for research and for armor upgrades.”
“The carapace? Yep. You can grind down the chitin and a few other alchemical transmutations to turn it into a dye that will help infuse fabrics, or into an enamel coating on armor that will help increase toxin resistance across the board. I once heard of a warrior given a suit of light mail that gave him wasp wings. Ten gold for the whole bunch. Five for the venom sacs.”
Neska gauged Trevor's reaction, with a small smile emerging. “You've got a deal. I have a small list of items here.” She handed her notebook over, with the witch donning a pair of thin glasses.
After studying it for a moment, she snapped the book closed. “I have this all, yes. Let's get you sorted. Anything for you, mister…”
“Trevor is fine,” he answered. “Actually, I need an alchemical concentrator and a few acids. This is related to my other work. I don't think the on-campus garrison has it at present.” He pulled out a notepad with carefully drawn schematics and lettering.
The imagery showed a full light armor set, including a vest, pauldrons, and bracers. There appeared to be gloves added, and she noted the materials included the carapace of parasitic wasps.
An additional page included boots with chitin covering the exterior in a scalelike pattern, with options for what she suspected was Brent and Juni, and a rune schematic on another page. He must have been working on it ever since they returned. She also saw sketches for what appeared to be plating slid into the fabric and stitched or buttoned closed. That was a rather intriguing design choice.
Suzie cackled proudly. “Oh, I like this. One moment.” She handed him the notebook and got to work, grabbing a mixing cauldron about eighteen inches across, formed of polished cast metal, and began filling it with items, including several metal and glass containers she wrapped in wadded paper for cushioning.
Feldspar. Mana salts. Preservatives to keep blood potent for a long duration when sealed joined the other ingredients, along with Hort root and Remedly leaves. Those were her ingredients for a more potent diagnostic and forensic ritual, one she should be able to cast with a little help from Kalloway or the others.
“I presume you have basic gear for alchemical extraction?” She called out over her shoulder.
“They permitted me a fume hood and filter that vents out our dorm room, on the condition I don't do anything that could incinerate by mishap,” Neska answered.
“Good on ya. I worry about the labs. Probably got contaminants from dozens of potions and alchemical mixing. It can ruin a perfectly good batch of mixtures.” She handed the cauldron to Trevor, who braced for a heavy weight, but let out a sound of surprise when his arms barely flexed.
“This is light. Very light.”
“Mage steel cast cauldron. It's lighter than steel, but it's got the same strength and won't react with many materials. Some acids and alchemical reactions will ruin a standard mixing vessel. Very good equipment at a relatively low cost,” Suzie cackled. Neska nodded approvingly. Most people didn't know how important it was to clean their equipment after use, to avoid contaminants seeping into the next mix, or eroding a giant hole into their cauldron.
That had happened to Risha once, only because she added a mislabeled chemical she’d picked up that day. She'd fumed over that loss for a week. “And the athame?” She asked, realizing it was missing.
Suzie waved her over to a glass case next to hanging herbs and dried flowers. Several daggers and athames were on display behind the glass, in varying shapes and forms. Some were short and made of charcoal colored steel. Others were lengthy, with brighter metal, and some bore ornate hilts with encrusted gems. One blade curved like a scimitar, but was only a foot long.
“This is a collection of Athames I've pulled together over the years. They sell slowly, but it's better if the right tool goes to the right user. Some grow steeped in power from the witch or summoner that wielded them previously. I presume you know what they can do?”
“They can channel energy, and some rituals require a blood sacrifice. They can cut and heal a small wound, or may enhance certain hexes or other witch abilities, depending on the runic effect,” Neska answered.
“Textbook! Here, just hold them. It doesn't take much. Most witches know the one meant for them within a few seconds,” Suzie assured her, beckoning her toward the open case.
“I've never…” she trailed off. I've never used one of these before, or held a dagger in hand. I hope not.
The Radiant King's vision from weeks ago flashed through her mind. She remembered that dark room with her human self holding a sacrificial dagger, hovering over Juni with lethal intent. She ignored the vision and ran her fingers over the blade handles, one at a time, trying to feel something. A spark of magic, a whisper of hidden knowledge.
Or, a muscle memory of gripping one athame in particular. She closed her eyes, removing any chance of visual bias.
When she did, all she heard were the Radiant King's mocking words You've done this before. You've killed for power, Neska.
That infectious voice whispered in the back of her mind, like a toxic friend that never went away. She knew the nearest Instance was far, far away. You pierced their heart with unerring precision, as your ritual demanded. You watched your victim choke on their own blood. You drew their power as their eyes turned glassy and their limbs went slack, the smell of offal and coppery blood in the air.
And you'll do it again. I know you will. But will it be monsters? Or will you sacrifice your allies for strength? Your friends, perhaps?
Maybe the fiery bird you can't stop thinking about, or how much he drives you insane?
Shut up.
This was one doubt she would no longer allow to have power over her. I will never obtain power at the cost of destroying everything I hold dear. Risha was better than you. Kinder, wiser. She was stronger than you. A better teacher than anything you could hope to offer.
She shook her head, still running her hand over the handles, no gut instinct telling her to stop.
And you know it, your Radiance. That must have driven you insane. One witch stopped a would-be Divine in his tracks. That's what happened, didn't it? All those emotional responses, all that talk about Risha being the harbinger of doom? She stopped you from doing worse. You couldn't let go of that offense.
She gripped the current athame in hand, a comforting texture of faint lines arranged in a diamond pattern underneath her fingertips. A faint warmth emanated from the material, and she heard Trevor startle.
“Neska? Open your eyes. Your hat is glowing.”