Celia, Konrad and Elemiah were following Séliss, wondering why she was taking them away from the rest of the group that was struggling to put up a makeshift camp. Once they were far enough so that they would not be heard, Séliss marked a pause, keeping her back facing the others for a moment. Celia and Konrad exchanged questioning looks, while Elemiah was staring at the tiefling. Losing his patience in front of all this mystery, Konrad was the first one to ask the question everybody had in mind:
- Hey, Séliss. Can you tell us why you got us all here?
The mage turned around and looked them up and down, one after another. Then, she put her hand on her face, hiding it like a cool and mysterious character. Only her lips were visible, and a smile appeared on them.
- I suppose it’s time to reveal the truth…, she announced.
She removed her hand, making a strand of hair fly in a gesture intended to be dramatic. With a sardonic grin, she continued in a grandiloquent tone:
- My complete name is Séliss Ya’al. Genius summoner, and commander Livyatan Ya’al’s daughter and apprentice. And today is your lucky day.
Séliss took out three silver scales from her pocket and presented them to the rest of the group. They all felt instinctively attracted by them. It was as if… they called out to them…
- As you may have realized, continued Séliss while switching her pose once again, we’ll face great danger. But I, future commander of the Crusade, have judged the three of you as worthy of fighting the forces of Chaos alongside me. That’s why I want to propose you this deal: be my vassals, and I’ll offer you these scales from Terendelev herself. They’ll allow you to alter your appearance to look like any kind of demon, and thus catch them off guard.
The summoner stared down her future servants, striking a pose supposed to inspire self-confidence and power. Her smile still on her face, she waited for an answer.
- U-uhm… But…
Celia stuttered for a bit, nervously fiddling her collar.
- Well… If I live as an hermit, she continued, it’s because I don’t want to obey the army…
Séliss’s eye twitched. Used to people obeying her without asking questions, she did not expect a refusal this up front. Konrad, him, seemed to be thinking hard, absent-mindedly scratching his cheek.
- Who’s Livyatan, by the way? he asked.
- What!? Séliss squicked, outraged; You don’t know who’s the great commander Ya’al!?
She stared at Konrad with eyes full of disbelief and disappointment, getting out of character for an instant and getting back to a normal posture. The young man just looked at her, waiting for an answer. She put her hand on her face once more and sighed, annoyed by this much ignorance.
- Commander Livyatan Ya’al is the leader of the Tiefling Squadron, Elemiah explained. It is the army’s largest troupe composed exclusively of tieflings. He won his title and got decorated many times for succeeding at missions supposed to be impossible, making the crusade victorious during key moments of the conflicts in this way.
Konrad let out a long and admirative “oooh”. Séliss, proud of her father, puffed her chest. But Elemiah was not done talking:
- Nonetheless, this is your father, not you. I could follow commander Ya’al’s order, but you… Your bloodline does not determine who you are.
- Yeah, Konrad agreed while nodding his head. Basically, it just means you know someone famous. So, I don’t get why you want us to obey you.
Séliss’s smug smile disappeared, her chest deflating like a pierced balloon. For the first time, she did not know how to respond.
- Mwell, uuuuuh, if that’s all you wanna ask us…, Konrad continued.
The three of them started going back to the camp, leaving Séliss there, unable to chose what to do. Her plan fell through. But their current circumstance were dangerous, and she had to give them the scales if she wanted to take advantage of them. She nibbled her lip, annoyed. The only other way would be to give the scales to the three numbskulls who cannot fight, or to the hybrids they just met and who had no reasons to not just let them rot here except the fact that they saved their comrade… But if she yielded, she would lose all of her authority…
- Wait ! Séliss exclaimed.
The trio stopped, turning back to her. The tiefling sighed, caught up to them, and hold the scales to them once more.
- Take them, she said, looking away. You’ll still be more useful than the cripled, the blind and Horgus…
So much for her ambitions.
Each of them took a scale. The moment their fingers touched the remains of the great silver dragoness, a voice resounded in their head. Warm, but also full of sadness.
“Chosen one… You shall not die… The Crusade needs you…”
It was Terendelev’s voice. But they did not get the time to be surprised by it before something else filled their mind: how to use the scales.
- Séliss… Are you sure these scales will allow us to change into demons…? Elemiah asked.
- Uh… Yeah, why ? Séliss answered.
Celia, usually so discreet, suddenly shrieked, making everyone stare at her. Upward. She was floating some meters above the floor, above where she was earlier, upside down. And she was still slowly rising higher and higher. Suddenly becoming the center of attention, and being in a ridiculous position, she felt tears come to her eyes, so ashamed. The others were watching her rising, dumbfounded.
- He… Help… P-please…, she squeaked with a lump in her throat.
While Konrad was trying to climb the wall to catch Celia, Séliss and Elemiah examined the aasimar’s scale. Séliss focused for a moment, her eyes closed, and chanted in her head, then reopened her eyes. With a simple detect magic spell, she was able to see magic auras on some items, and sometimes even creatures with high magic potential. That way, she could analyse them to know more about them, in a way an average person unable to use magic could not comprehend.
When she stared at Elemiah’s scale, her eyes went wide.
- That’s… that’s impossible…, she babbled.
The tiefling got her own scale and put it next to the aasimar’s, comparing them multiple times. Then, she took both in her hands, and her eyes grew even wider.
- These scales…! It seems their aura changes depending on who’s holding it!
Elemiah raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and took back his scale.
- Yes, no doubt! Séliss continued, still as astounded. When I hold the scale, they’re enchanted with a spell of appearance change. But when you hold it… I can’t interpret its magic footprint…
Séliss’s eyes seemed to light up. An artifact able to change its powers depending on his owner, and which magic footprint gets blurry for whoever is not their holder… It was something never seen before!
The soldier stared at his scale, thoughtful. That would explain why his instinct told him it was something different from what Séliss had explained. To put his theory to the test, he drew his bastard sword, holding the scale with his other hand, and focused on the latter. Almost immediately, his blade started to shine with a powerful white light, even brighter than his halo, even though this light did not seem to illuminate the surroundings. As if it was focused on the weapon. He made his sword whirl… then sigged, visibly disappointed.
- That is what I thought…
Séliss stared at him with an interrogating look.
- This is the power of my scale, he continued. A blade able to strike Evil… However, I am already capable of doing so.
Elemiah felt a bit vexed. Reinforcing his weapon by using the divine energy of his bloodline to pass the demons’ impious defenses was a basic skill taught by his family. A skill he spent years mastering and improve. Not only was his scale useless to him, but, also, it reawakened memories he had tried to forget since he came to the Worldwound.
- Terendelev screw you over, huh, Séliss remarked.
*****
- Welcome to Neatholme, Lann announced.
The group was at the door of what seemed like a subterranean village, nested in a huge cavern illuminated by phosphorescent climbing plants and mushrooms. Multiple dwellings were built with local stone, in a style very different from Torag’s temple’s: simpler and more practical. Almost none of them had extra floors. The houses at the village’s border were carved in the cave’s walls. The buildings they could see at the moment could at least house a hundred people.
- There isn’t a soul here, Horgus remarked.
The streets were indeed deserted. If it was not for the smell of food floating in the air, one could think this was a particularly well preserved ghost town. A feeling of eeriness spread through the group.
The surface dwellers silently followed Lann in what seemed like the main road, while Dyra and Crel took another route in order to find someone who could take care of the dog-headed man. Everything was perfectly still. The sound of their footsteps were their only company. Then, they started seeing them. Eyes of every shapes and sizes watching them, hidden behind some sort of vine curtains used to screen the windows, or observing them through half-open doors. Lann did not seem like he was paying attention to it, but the others were getting more and more concerned. And the more they walked, the more eyes were spying on them. A sound drew Anevia and Celia’s attention, the former used to detect threats thanks to her scout training, the latter thanks to her experience as a hunter. They looked at each other for a moment, then silently nodded. Without the others knowing, silhouettes were hiding on the roofs. And that noise, it was the one of arrows getting drawn from their quiver.
But Lann, Dyra and Crel were friendly after they saved the latter, so there was no reason their peers would become dangerous or that it was a trap… right?
The group stopped in front of an edifice taller than the others. Lann banged on its double-door with his fist, before declaring with a strong voice:
- Visitors from the surface want to see you, chief.
Silence. Then, the door opened.
The visitors entered. The room was illuminated by multiple luminescent fungi growing in pots hanging from the roof. A number of hybrids were in the room with them, lined up along the walls, a sword at their side. They were not exactly at attention, but their posture betrayed their military training. Guards. Visibly, they did not want to take a risk. At the other side of the room, on a large wooden throne, what seemed like a man was facing them. His face was puffed up in a grotesque manner, bringing his wrinkles out, and unequal clumps of gray hair were sitting on top of his scalp. His two small eyes were sunk in their orbits; one of them, blind, was of a milky white color. Big dark robes were hiding his swollen belly. He could almost pass for a human, if it was not for the little rodent whiskers surrounding his nose and his pointy yellow teeth sticking out of his upper lip.
Lann stayed at the door while the others went further in the room. The atmosphere was tense; a single bad move and all the guards would jump on them. The man with the face of a rat examined them while they were approaching, then spoke, with a strangely friendly tone despite the room’s feel:
- Welcome to our little village of Neatholme. I am Sull, chief of this tribe. Tell me, what is the reason for your visit?
Séliss stepped forward, making the crusade’s classical military salute: back straight, heels tight, an arm in the back and a fist on the chest.
- Séliss Ya’al, she responded. Apprentice officer of the mendevian army.
- The Mendev? Chief Sull remarked, arching a surprised brow. It has been a long time since I heard this name…
It was Séliss’s turn to be surprised. The old chief leaned on the back of his seat, a slight smile on his lips, as if he was remembering an old memory. Before the young woman had the time to continue, Aravashnial leapt at the forefrount, his smile larger than ever, so large it was starting to be a bit worrisome.
- You descend from the first paladins of Mendev, don’t you? he exclaimed with a voice giving his excitement away.
Sull chuckled.
- Absolutely, he simply answered.
- Ooooooh, IknewitIknewitIknewit!!!
The elf suddenly went into a long monolog, speaking quickly, so much so that he was almost incomprehensible. He looked like a too talkative groupie who just met his idol. Squeaking about his colleagues who did not believe him, but that he finally had proofs of what he was saying. Konrad had to force him to move back and whisper to him to calm down for him to stop gesticulating. The guards tried as much as they could to not make their discomfort apparent. Séliss cleared her throat to divert everyone’s attention from the eccentric mage, a frowned eyebrow showing her irritation.
- As Lann said, Chief Sull, me and my companions come from the surface. We sadly don’t have anything to give you in exchange, but we solicit your help to get back there.
- You are not the first visitors from the surface who came to ask for our help, Sull remarked, his smile disappearing. Your predecessors revealed themselves as rude guests, who cost us a number of our comrades. Why would we help you?
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