A Knight's Lilies

"One of the few bastions of Ingramarian culture south of the Frostwind mountains. The coalescence of northern beliefs and southern traditions have given birth to celebrations and peoples different from elsewhere in Cyndralia. Volksgradian citizens often find themselves honoring both Kargathax and Astralis. It is therefore this guide's recommendation that those who are aficionados of unique experiences should visit Volksgrad at least once during their festivities to truly get a chance to sample this fusion of traditions. "

- Arterian Affairs, Standalone Publications, "A Reveler's Travel Guide"

The shadow of the Highwall now drowned out most of the sunlight. An eerie chill brushing down from the peaks and into the mountain pass. Trees rustled rigidly in the wind, creating an uneasy melody that broke up the rhythmic clatter of horse hooves and wagon wheels.

Sigrid let out a soft whine, the world itself trying to convey its own malaise to those who could understand the feeling. From what the strange outlander Miyuki had suggested, she could corroborate the idea that whatever it was flowed from the north in strange pulses. A message of sorts was there, a warning perhaps. But whatever the earth tried to say, she could not truly parse it.

Her people were well connected to the seas and the flow of life as a whole. But unlike the rest of her kind, she had spent most of her time hidden in her sea cave by herself. Her time there felt more like a blur now than anything else. Long periods of oppressive silences with the occasional jingle or ritual from the humans that came with offerings. While it was a peaceful existence, it meant she had little chance to practice the traditions of her people, not that she remembered any of them anymore.

Elaria shot her a concerned look. Sigrid just shook her head. In this matter at least, there was nothing they could do. Whatever it was, they could only hope that they wouldn't have to face it.

"Well, if something's a problem, you can let us know, hmm?" Elaria hummed half heartedly.

Sigrid nodded.

With a consensus established, Sigrid stretched out and splayed herself out the wagon's bench and yawned. Elaria just giggled and smirked at her. Sigrid tried to hide a frown. Every once in a while, Sigrid noticed how Sophie's sister always seemed to know more than she let on. As if she already had a sense for what was wrong despite neither Miyuki or herself having discussed this with anyone else. Ostensibly, she had the same background as Sophie, serving a strange God or being. Yet, unlike the latter, she carried herself with an almost unnatural sense of confidence. It, too, made Sigrid uneasy. For Sigrid was capable enough to notice, she never really looked worried or concerned, only putting on a facade of doing so.

Sigrid let out a second yawn. She supposed it didn't really matter, as long as everyone was safe and taken care of. And Elaria appeared more than capable at navigating most situations.

Left with nothing else to do, Sigrid snagged a bundle of cloth to rest her against as the wagon's bumpiness kept her from truly falling asleep. She stared out the back of the wagon, her eyes turned to the sky as the mountains loomed overhead. Grey clouds obscured the peaks although from her angle, she doubted she could even see that high anyways. The snow covered mountainside made her shiver just gazing upon it.

The memories of how Aryana had forcefully cut herself off from the flow of the world terrified her more than she ever let even Yana know. There was still a faint current of life that flowed into her, unlike the disturbing emptiness of Sophie and Elaria. But that wasn't the problem. For Sigrid, it was the idea that a being could easily attune their senses to the world around them. To draw upon the energies of the land and sea to guide oneself or to simply be carried forward by the current of the world, it was what allowed mages to use their mana and for a great plethora of creatures to exist. It was how the merfolk could all call upon the elements, that primeval instinct that called the world to their aid. To have those senses be forcibly dulled was almost anathema to the idea of living at all.

If anything, the cost that Aryana bore afterwards and even now, was proof enough of the folly of such an act. Sigrid supported her comrade, but such foolhardy stubbornness had brought the girl so much pain. It confused her a little.

Then again, she supposed she was still in the process of learning the intricacies of life on land. Unlike back in her cave, things were much more difficult to comprehend here. So many more nuances and little intricacies in their actions that she still needed getting used to. Though she suspected that if her kin had allowed her to follow in their path, she would deal with much the same things there too.

The thought made her a little despondent. She furrowed her brow and stared listlessly at the mountains. She didn't know how long she had last had true contact with her own kind. How long ago has it been since they had left her there. After about a year she had lost track, and after two she had completely given up. Since then, her pile of stuff had grown to pleasing proportions. A mark earned by the way she had first seen Sophie seemingly marvel at the plethora of items she had to her name.

She only wished that she could show off some of it to her kin as well. To prove to them that she was indeed a survivor. That she had found a way to thrive even when on her own. Although in all honesty, she suspected that her ability to even find her kind had dulled far beyond uselessness by now. While she could manipulate the currents, using them to find her own was the one thing that she still couldn't do. Almost as if the waters rejected the very possibility.

She groaned as the wagon traversed a small hurdle, the bump shattering her concentration and bouncing her up and down upon the stack of cloth. Frustrated, she watched as what little sunlight from above began vanishing as the mountains now fully enveloped the western descent. Evening was coming soon and that meant they were soon to be in Carrador proper.

It was a strange country, surrounded by mountains with little in the way of water. Even on the map it seemed unnatural. Unlike the islands off the coast that were formed from volcanoes, there was no such sign here. Only the aftermath of ancient magicks that had forcibly carved the earth into what it is today.

Once past the border checkpoint, Sigrid could feel it.The shift in the atmosphere as the warm fuzzy ley lines of mana and life morphed into a more prickly and almost primal version of itself. There was a sort of wildness that tickled her senses and made her perk back up.

The change was abrupt too. A likely cause from whatever ancient rituals had originally tried to seal this place off from the world, Sigrid reasoned.

"And we're in, huh? Just like that." Elaria chuckled to herself.

Sigrid shifted in her pose to look at the girl, wondering if she was trying to strike up a conversation. To her dismay, her goal of resting a bit more seemed to disappear as Elaria shifted to face her. Still, she was curious enough at what the weird girl might have to say that she pushed herself up to a sitting position before tilting her head to beckon Elaria to continue.

"Aren't you excited? New land? More things to see? The home of your compatriots?" Elaria prodded.

Sigrid responded with a half hearted trill. She was excited and apprehensive at the same time. Not in the least because of the strange sensation from the north. But Elaria had a point, it was a new environment to explore, and one that thankfully did not hold that same harrowing trial that Aryana had to go through. Nor did it seem to require much hiking for now, in which Sigrid was glad.

"Ach, come on, a little more vim, eh? Not enough glitz and glamour compared to Arteria?"

Sigrid grunted out a soft complaint.

"Ah, we've seen the maps together. If we're bound for the capital there'll be a massive lake of sorts. Glacier water and what not. Supposedly good for your health. Well… ours, I guess. I don't know if you would view it the same as us."

Sigrid clicked her tongue dismissively.

Elaria held up her arms in mock surrender, "You got me chief, I have no clue how mermaid biology works."

Sigrid pouted, that wasn't meant to be the message at all. But seeing that Elaria was feeling more playful than actually insulted, she let it go. Instead, she chirped and gestured at the mountains above them. This at least, seemed to give Elaria pause, the bard's smile briefly creasing into a frown before returning to its original form.

"I suppose that's true." Elaria chuckled mirthlessly, "The Highwall has been tainted by bad memories. Though I realize that the rest of us had no true idea of what you lot had to deal with up there." She paused to exchange a glance with Sigrid before hastily adding, "And with everything that happened with Aryana. After all, your team's recounting are grim, but I doubt they'd be as grim as being there in person."

On that, Sigrid replied with a melodic but somber series of notes.

"A right spot of bad business that was. I know she was desperate for a solution but…" The bard stared out towards Sophie's wagon.

Sigrid cooed in agreement.

"A bit extreme. Aye. Though I suppose what's done is done." She sighed, "At least she seems to be taking it in stride."

Sigrid nodded happily. She too, was glad that Aryana had seemed to bounce back relatively quickly. Even if she could occasionally catch the red haired girl staring morosely at her legs.

"Besides, we all carry-"

"Mistress. Trouble." Raylani cut the bard off as she poked her head back into the wagon.

Elaria and Sigrid shot up at once. Both casting wary glances at each other and to the ends of the wagon.

"Raylani?" Elaria called out to confirm.

"Forests. Too quiet. But something stirred, possibly moving closer. Not too far." The dark elf kept her words brief.

"And our escorts?"

"No reactions yet. Likely didn't notice."

"Fuck. Okay. Thanks for the heads up. Steady on and keep an eye out. We are a rather large convoy, it would probably be foolish to try and attack us. Heavily armed too if they just catch a glimpse of the templars." Elaria murmured.

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"By your command, mistress." Raylani nodded and returned her attention to the road.

Sigrid immediately closed her eyes and reached out to what strands of life that she could. While her connection was not as strong so far from water, she could still shimmy her way through the moisture in the air and leaves. It was weaker than she'd like, but something was responding. And then, the connection grew darker before it was cut entirely.

Sigrid recoiled, alarmed. She had felt just a sliver of it, but whatever it was felt organic, though tainted with darkness.

"Sigrid! Stars, are you alright?" Elaria rushed over.

Sigrid nodded before poking her head out of the wagon and growling towards the woods.

They were surrounded by a sparse smattering of trees that led down from the mountain pass and into the plains ahead. Unfortunately dense enough to obscure vision even if it stopped just shy of being a notable forest in its composition. But a perfect place for a trap.

Elaria peaked out with her. Yet as the girl moved to ask her a question, whistles and orders were shouted from the front, cutting her off. They shared a wordless look. Trouble.

"Defensive formations! Stay in your transports! Pick up the pace!" One of the armored soldiers called out as he rode past them.

Sigrid clicked her tongue warily at hearing the words while Elaria kept one hand on the hilt of her dagger. The wagon jolted as the convoy was hurried along. The small plume of dust kicked up by horses and wheels made her wince and pull away from the edge of the wagon. Though it did not hide the reason for the soldier's alarm.

As Raylani sped them up, she caught a glimpse of a more rudimentary wagon. Unlike theirs, it was upturned, a few scorch marks and the splinters of battle riddling its broken form. Of its inhabitants there were no signs.

Sigrid growled once more. Displeased by the sudden upset on their otherwise peaceful journey. Her frustrations were compounded by the fragility of the life bonds that she could tap into. Not only were they moving too quickly for her to find any lingering wellsprings or fonts of power. There was little she could call upon here.

Elaria disrupted her concentration with a take on the shoulder. Sigrid snapped to look at the interruption to find the bard holding out a flask in front of her. She frowned, she appreciated the offer but she wasn't thirsty. Only after a few seconds did she realize what it was actually for and she shamefully conveyed her gratitude with a soft coo.

"It ain't much, but it's better than nothing." Elaria nonchalantly acknowledged.

It was as Sigrid had noticed. She had adapted to changes far quicker than most. And far too calmly.

Her criticism could wait. She quickly unscrewed the top of the flask and reached for the bonds that held things together. With them firmly grasped in her mind, she bent it to her will. She lifted a sole example to examine her handiwork. A tiny, thin spike of water, sharp enough to pierce rudimentary armor and flesh. She had to conserve what little there was in the flask, for it would form her emergency reserve.

In the moment she had made the connection, the water belonged to her. So thoroughly had she forced her way into its very life force, that the flask no longer held a layer of liquid. Instead, within it were now more of her water spikes. Precision projectiles to incapacitate her foes in lieu of more advanced magic, each held together with the tiniest amount of mana.

Then it came. Guttural blood curdling howls followed by the violent trampling of the shrubbery nearby.

"Wargs." Elaria hissed, "Like wolves but uglier and angrier."

The vicious howls were followed by a plethora of warcries. Ugly brutish noises that seemed to reverberate all around them.

Hooves and wheels clattered ever faster as the convoy tried to race away. Only for the ground to shake under the rumbling of countless creatures. The air split from the sound of menacing battle horns, the awful melody growing ever louder with each passing moment.

Sigrid snarled. They would not be able to outrun their foes.

"Right flank!"

"In the trees!"

"Go, go! Get them out of here!"

Some of the soldiers yelled.

"Look out!" A voice called out.

Sigrid's anger gave way to fright as the wagon slammed to a halt.

Both her and Elaria immediately scrambled to the front where Raylani was tugging on the reins.

"Ambush, mistress." The dark elf scoffed, "Greenskin riders. They're trying to cut us and our escort off."

"How many?" Elaria sighed.

"About a dozen, a few more harrying the others. Only about two templars and our own greenskin remains with us. But it appears they're-"

"Trying to form a barrier between us. Stars. Stop the wagon. We'll hold it here. Watch Sigrid's back, I'll keep them off the wagon."

"I… yes, mistress."

Sigrid let out a wary trill and took her cue to hop out the back, flask in hand. Raylani formed up in the front as they caught sight of the three church soldiers trying their best to form some semblance of a defensive formation with the wagon as the anchor. But given their lack of numbers, such an act looked to be futile at best.

Perhaps realizing this, the orc called Grorok broke formation and proudly put himself forward before beating his chest and letting out an animalistic roar. Despite wearing the fitted silvered armor that the other soldiers wore, there was an unmistakable wild air to him.

He let out a guttural warcry and the thunderous warband emerged into view.

Dark twisted beasts with fangs the size of arms let loose ear piercing howls. Their fore legs and hind legs bulged with lean muscles from carrying their equally frenzied riders. Feral looking orcs clad in rudimentary leather and iron armor pieces emerged from the treeline. Makeshift axes and spears in hand as they surged forward to meet the challenger.

As the two sides squared up to each other, Sigrid could tell how the beast-like warriors sneered at their more proper kin. The soldiers around the wagon tightened their grip on their reins and blades. Though caught before they could enter the plains of Carrador, they had little room to maneuver atop their mounts. They needed an advantage beyond stalling, and Sigrid had an idea.

Without letting the orcish chants finish, she trilled out a small song, drawing upon her arcane energies to ready her projectiles. Shifting her thoughts into matter, she let the ambient moisture in the air to guide her hand. As the orc called Grorok lifted his blade high in a challenge, she launched her attack.

Out from the flask, a half dozen water darts sprang to life and shot forwards towards their targets. She uttered one last incantation to herself, propelling them with one last burst of energy. Slowed only by air resistance that she could not clear in time, the sharp little spikes of water pierced through skin and flesh.

One cut into the eye of a warg, the creature howling in agony as it reared back on its hind legs, sending its rider tumbling backwards. Another wobbled out of place, instead tearing up the snout of one of the creatures, annoying it but doing little otherwise. Two cut into an orc, the first lodging itself into the greenskin's throat before dissolving, the other finding the perfect angle through the eyes and into its brain, shattering within like an icicle and killing the foul creature. One cut through a chest plate but failed to reach the heart, enraging the orc. The last shot through a hand, the orc yelping and dropping his weapon. An advantage that Grorok seized upon, charging forward with his mount to break their ranks and cut the hapless greenskin down before reveling in engaging a small handful of them.

A spear slammed into a templar's shield, the force of the blow nearly making the soldier lose balance. His comrade took the chance to attack the orc, cutting into him with a swift strike. Two then pounced on him, one whose sheer brute force battered the man and sent him flying off his horse. Before they could capitalize, the other soldiers launched into action, blocking another blow with his shield as he jabbed at the other.

That left three who roared in fury and charged at her. Before Sigrid could properly react, Raylani sprang into a flurry of motion. The dark elf launched two hidden daggers at the attacking trio. The knives burying themselves deep into their mounts and sending them tumbling momentarily. The last kept moving forward, but he was only one. Grotesque tusks hung open from a mouth that salivated greedily at the chance of an easy kill. But with no immediate threats, Sigrid could focus.

The creature was a simpleton, filled with only bloodshed and rage. In truth, it was more akin to a beast than a more sentient humanoid. And it was desperate, but there was no time to ask why. She furrowed her brow as she conjured up what blood and spittle she could, breaking the monster's ambient flow of life as she forced the liquids into submission. It didn't stand a chance.

Of frail mind, it could do little but roar as she turned his own fluids against him, forming a lance of liquids from his mouth, piercing it right back into his skull. He barely had time to process that he died when she then seized upon the cranial fluids within his mind. Disgusted but unbowed, she summoned the reserves and shot it downwards. Like a spear from the heavens, it shot straight through the beast his corpse was riding. The warg let out a surprised yelp before it keeled over in agony.

Raylani had descended upon her charges with glee. The dark elf expertly ended the life of one of the fallen greenskins before dancing back out of reach of the other, dodging his every blow and infuriating him. On the other side, one of the greenskins went down but was now pressing back against one of the soldiers. Grorok had tore through another one and its rider. Though the pressure of three along with their wargs had him pressed against a corner.

Given some breathing room, Sigrid closed her eyes to concentrate. The land spoke to her, and her to it. It guided and led her, as it should to all creatures of the world. And through it, she united the corpses. Though some only bled in trickles, it was enough. A small golem of blood and water was born, the trails streaking out going unnoticed by the combatants. Her own little grotesque monster now sliding into the attack.

Using blood and flesh, she puppeted it into position to help her ally and sent it springing upwards with mana. Like an eagle, it latched onto its prey and quickly surrounded the orc's head, forcing itself into every open orifice and suffocating it in the blood of its comrades. She could not tell if Raylani had thanked her, only that the girl had recovered her knives and launched them at another orc.

The odds were now even as the dark elf backstabbed an orc, viciously plunging a dagger in and out of its neck. The templars now united to battle another, only for the first orc that had fallen from his mount to recover and lash out. In but a simple blow, the creature's sheer strength meant his machete cleaved the head clean off the shoulders of one of the soldiers, armor and all. But that was its mistake. As the man died with a small spurt of gore, Sigrid took control of the blood droplets, and a dozen weaponized needles flung themselves into the offending orc. It howled and wailed, but with each wound, only more dug themselves deeper into it until it died.

Distraught by the death of his comrade, the remaining templar slammed his body into the orc he was dueling, sending them both tumbling to the floor as they began a vicious brawl. That left only two as Grorok dispatched a third, though the orc had been wounded as warg teeth remained embedded into his armor.

He had moved just out of effective range and Sigrid growled. She searched for some aid when she realized her blood golem had drowned the orc it had latched onto. Using a burst of mana, she uttered a song and shaped it into a massive blade, taking great care to aim her throw carefully. With a final burst of energy, she sent it soaring into the air and into a nearby tree branch, the creature now out of her control but successfully cutting the branch loose.

It wasn't enough to crush anyone, but it brought Grorok a little more time. Time enough that Raylani had launched her daggers once more, bringing down a rider and panicking his warbeast.

With the tide turned, Grorok let out a ferocious roar and leapt off his horse, simply charging straight for the final orc. The creature met his charge and sought to dismember him, only for the warrior to gore his neck with his tusks as the blade bit into his pauldrons.

To her side, the templar had beaten the orc to a pulp, though the man was also unsteady on his feet. The last two wargs were now suddenly aware that they were outnumbered, but it was too late. Sigrid regained enough control of her golem and it shot itself straight into the mouth of one of the loathsome beasts before she made it explode. Eviscerating the monster from within. Unfazed by his wound, Grorok simply yanked the machete out of his arm and flung it at the warg. The orc's strength ensured that the hit alone stunned the beast even without impaling it. All before he leapt upon it and savagely shattered its neck with a clean bow, the creature not even having a chance to yelp before it died.

She waited for a moment, then two. And time ticked by as usual. She looked for the dark elf, finding the girl also holding her breath. Then Raylani let her shoulders sag a little, and Sigrid too, relaxed. The skirmish was over and the supplies were safe. But almost as quickly as relief arrived, did the two trade a look of suspicion. The orcs were a surprise, but was it just a random chance surprise or an unwelcome prepared surprise? Or perhaps something worse to come and this was but a part of it. Sigrid paled, the portent from the north had struck its first blow. The great shadows of the mountains now were more menacing than before. They would need to tread lightly, for she could feel it, more danger lurked in the shadows. Shadows that would grow even darker the more north they went.