As Witnessed By The Divine
The somber tune that has carried from the cave beneath the Elder Oak at the center of the Great Monarchs' Domain dies down, the singers throat finally giving out under the stress it's been put under for the last five days.
Hacking into the palm of her hand, the Huldr winces as she see specks of blood upon it as she lowers it from her mouth. Weakly, she tries to once again start her tune, but all that comes out is a crowing wheeze and a searing pain.
Tears well up in her eyes. What good is she, if she can't soothe Master's pain through her song? She could feel it, the pain radiating off of the sleeping form before her. It would die down a little when she sang, so she kept doing it, only stopping when Not-Quite-Master or one of the Jotun or Gyger came into the cave to tend to the Master or give her food.
None were allowed to get close to Master. Not-Quite-Master ordered it. She's afraid that the pain Master is in might affect them. Even Not-Quite-Master dare not go close.
Huldr weeps silently, her throat too ragged to make noise at all. All at once, her worries and fears, previously kept at bay by the constant effort of song hits her like a deluge.
What if Not-Quite-Master fails? What if she can't make a Divine Spring? What if even if it is made, it doesn't work?
What if someone attacked now that Master's not here to defend us, as she always does?
Huldr had learnt of the Divine through conversation with the two human women. Learnt that not-monsters would "pray" to them to have their wishes granted. Huldr hadn't really understood the point. If there was something you wanted, you just went and got it.
But now she understood. With tears still streaming down her face, she clasps her hands in front of her chest, as she'd seen the Oracle-Human do. For perhaps the first time in history, a monster prayed to the Divine.
"Please, grant me the strength to protect Master, and everyone else! Please let Master survive this!"
*Servant's Bond has reached its Maximum Strength*
*Title: Monarchs' Lady-In-Waiting gained*
*Title: Second In Command gained*
*Evolution is now available, please find a secure location before starting the process.*
Startled at the voice from nowhere, Huldr manages a less than elegant croak of surprise as she looks around for the source of it. E-Evolution? D-Did the Divine grant her wish?
Wasting no time, Huldr considers her options. One. 'Vir'ava'. Just the name causes her to shudder. Instincts tell her that it is an incredibly powerful monster. Slumber quickly overtakes the exhausted Huldr as the process begins.
Several Hours Later
Near the Forest's Edge
Finally, the leader of the large group of Aurellium hunters thought, as they shake the muck from their boots. Finally through that wet, soggy, mired, well, mire.
"It's the fastest route that has the fewest monsters along it" The Boss had said. So it might have been, but the leader would be damned if he hadn't preferred a slower or even more dangerous route towards the center of the Monarchs' Domain than the slog he and his men had just completed.
Performing a quick headcount, made more difficult by how each and every member was under the effect of Invisibility, courtesy of a herd of mages taking turns keeping the Spell active. Counting the depressions on the ground, he reaches twenty-two. Good. All accounted for.
"If you are spotted by any monster, and I emphasize, any monster, the Monarch will become aware of your presence. Consider the mission failed at that point and resign to your fate."
The leader grits his teeth. He understands that this is an unique opportunity to fell the Monarch, and the boons and accolades he and his men will receive if they survive, but still... He just can't shake the feeling that even if they were successful, a terrible fate would befall them.
His thoughts are interrupted as a thick, dense fog creeps from within the forest, enveloping the group. A dread creeps into his throat as the leader fights to keep himself from calling out to the others. Silence is key.
The fog is unlike any he's ever encountered. It's uncannily thick, and seems to almost pulse or undulate as it twists its way over everything in the surroundings. Have they been spotted? Unlikely, he's still under the effect of Invisibility, and he hears no nearby noises indicating the presence of monsters.
His second in command gently taps him in the side, more a gentle swing through the air than an aimed tap at the shoulder, since they're both invisible, but it gets the point across: "Let's move on."
But to where? It's next to impossible to see anything in this fog, they could be walking off a cliff for all they know. Almost as if on cue, the fog lifts slightly. Just enough for them to see a few meters ahead.
Tensing his hands as to not let them tremble, the leader continues towards the center of the forest. Up until now it's been easy, just head towards the ridiculously huge tree in the distance, but now the bare branches of the trees around them block the view.
A wind blows gently, swaying the crowns of the trees and making them creak ominously. The fog doesn't react.
Panic grips the leader. Unnatural fog like this could only be made by one being. Just as he is about to turn around to warn the others-
'Snap'
He stares down. His still invisible foot is covered in coils of Springthorn. Flashes of listening to old tales told by his grandmother during the long dark up north appear in his head as the coils tighten.
"Beware the still fog and the Springthorn vines. Those mark the hunting grounds of Vir'ava, the cruel Forest Guardian. Turn back once you spot the vines, for once you see shapes in the fog, her children are soon upon you. Retrace your steps, going backwards, do not turn your back on the Mother of Thorns. Retrace your steps, do not disturb the forest ground anew, for fear of angering the Witch of Mist."
He stands completely still as the Springthorn vines crawl up his armored boot. He wishes to call out to the others, but he knows they've already passed him by, unable to see his predicament. The vines dig into the joints of his armor, like hungry fingers trying to pry open the lid to a jar.
He knows what comes next. His choices are to yank his foot out, springing the thorns hidden within the vines to rip his leg to shreds, or to let the plant do its thing, drink of his blood and eat of his flesh.
Cries come from ahead of him. The others didn't know. He was the only one from the lands north of Yo'ud, where the Vir'ava is most common. Tears are streaming down his face. To think, the Monarch holds court with something like a Vir'ava! This mission was doomed from the start.
The newly Evolved Vir'ava regards the carnage before her. One, two, three still alive, the rest shredded as the plants under her control coiled around them and sprung their thorns. She did go against Master's rules in doing this, but she feels justified. After all, these humanoids smell like the ones Master captured when she first returned to her Lair after Vir'avas birth.
"Do not harm the ones that do not resist." Was what Master had told them. The ones still alive here... They stare at her shape in horror, yet she senses no hostility towards her. Perhaps the fact that vines are coiling around their necks make them afraid to fight?
Whatever. Just a while now, and she'll be able to take the live ones back to the grove. Restrain them well, and then present them to Not-Quite-Master tomorrow morning, once She wakes. Not-Quite-Master would probably have wanted this outcome. After all, Her sole objective is to keep Master safe and cure her pain, and She can't fight because of that.
So Vir'ava taking care of this should be a good thing! Yes! Vir'ava is certain about that.
Ah- there! Her own Children. Spriggan, the result of a Springthorn plant gorging itself on blood and flesh. These ones are humanoid-shaped, since the bones within them once belonged to humanoids. But Vir'ava is certain that Spriggan can take any form, provided they steal the bones of the right creature.
Bones, still red and glossy from being freshly unearthed from flesh, bound in place and connected by vines taking on the role of ligaments and muscle, provides structure and stability upon which the Spriggan builds its body. Over time, plant-matter will conceal the truth, though some places it will still peek through. The first Spriggan rises, slowly and with great effort.
Its jawless skull, with empty eye-sockets, stare blankly at the still alive humanoids. Well, two of them. The third is a bit behind the others. The leader, Vir'ava thinks, knew of her kind, and thus he was the greatest threat. However, he was too slow to realize, and she thinks that he deserves to live because of that.
Once all nineteen Spriggan have risen, she leads the way back to the grove. She hopes Not-Quite-Master will be pleased with her!