NOVEL NEXT Book 10 chapter 18
"Go away," Vanillamist said.
"I will, just as soon as you help me," Joan said happily.
"Two days," Vanillamist said in a soft, whiny tone.
"Huh? Two days until what?" Joan asked.
"Two days until my debt was paid and I was free," Vanillamist said. "Two days and I wouldn't have to worry about running into you of all people."
"Oh, then I'll make this quick," Joan said. "I need to meet with the Nameless One."
Vanillamist stared at her with a look of utter loathing. "Why do you think I would be willing to contact THEM of all fae? I understand that the politics of the fae houses are not something you have a firm understanding of—"
"Nope," Joan said happily.
"BUT! One tries NOT to draw the notice of an archfey. One tries not to even speak of them, so if you must—"
"Why? Will speaking about them draw their attention?" Joan asked.
Vanillamist started to say something, only to pause. Then, with a nervous look on her face, she shook her head. "No."
"So, if I say the Nameless One's name over and over, it likely wouldn't draw the attention of the Nameless One?" Joan asked. "Though I'm not sure if that is the Nameless One's name, I guess it's their title? So if I keep saying the Nameless One's title, which is the Nameless One, it won't draw their notice?"
"She really does enjoy tempting fate, doesn't she?" Chase asked.
"I mean, she's trying to meet an archfey, if that isn't tempting fate to begin with, then what is?" Bauteut asked.
"I've met the fates, you know," Joan said. "They're not so bad, if a bit weird. I think one of them was dying. Maybe I can ask the Nameless One about them, though. They were part fate I think? Mayyyybe? Hey, Vanillamist, what do you know about the Nameless One? Is the Nameless One—"
"OKAY! I'LL HELP YOU!" Vanillamist shrieked, lowering herself so far to the ground she was almost peering over the counter. "I'll help you, just please, please stop. No more. No more. Please. You have won. So stop. PLEASE!"
Joan gave a small smile before nodding. "Thank you, that's all I wanted. So, how does this work?"
Vanillamist gave a soft groan before shaking her head. "I loathe you. You do realize most creatures attempt to AVOID meeting with an archfey?" Her gaze then flickered to Chase for a moment before returning to her.
"I can't say I blame them," Joan said. "But there's a pretty big chance that they have some hold over me and if I die, well, I'd rather not be bound to them."
"What will you care? You'll be dead," Vanillamist said. "Aren't most of your species more worried about the before than the after?"
"I'm kind of worried about both," Joan said. "But the after, admittedly, does have me more worried if the Nameless One is tied into it. I've died enough times to know the after can be pretty important."
The fae just stared at her then, before looking up to the others. "Dying… to humans is final here, isn't it? I was under the impression that when you people died, you didn't come back."
"Ehhhh," Bauteut said with a shrug. "It's… debatable. But most of us don't really come back from it. She's a… special case."
"I've died a lot," Joan said. "Hoping to not do it that often going forward, though."
"And yet you are seeking out an archfey," Vanillamist mumbled. "Why would they even have a—" Her eyes glowed gold for a second and then she stopped, her eyes bulging for a moment. "I can get you to their realm, but that's it. That's as far as I go."
"What was that?" Joan asked.
"What?" Vanillamist asked.
"Your eyes, they went all glowy," Joan said.
"No, they didn't," Vanillamist asked.
"Yes, they did," Joan said, her eyes narrowing.
"They certainly did," Chase said.
"It was hardly subtle," Bauteut said.
Vanillamist gulped before glancing to Chase again, though this time her eyes lingered. "If you want my help, stop."
"So you can get me to their realm?" Joan asked.
"Yes," Vanillamist said softly. "You'll need to find your own way out. Obviously, I won't be coming with you."
"Why not?" Bauteut asked.
"Because I'm not insane enough to go into the realm of that creature," Vanillamist said coldly. "Archfey are not to be tampered with, or earn their ire. They certainly aren't to be taunted."
"I think they're taunting me," Joan said softly. "They are a bit obnoxious about it, even."
"I return in two days," Vanillamist said, shaking her head. "Come here that morning. If you want to go, I'll take you and deposit you on the way. After that, however? Never bother me again."
"Fi—"
"Your vow," Vanillamist said, her eyes flashing gold again. "That you will never bother me again. You will never ask me for aid, nor direct the… them to me in any way."
Joan stared at the fae for a few moments. She really was afraid, it was obvious. Was the Nameless One that frightening?
Probably.
"Agreed," Joan said softly. "I will never, intentionally, bother you again. Or direct the Nameless One towards you." She, slowly, held out her hand. "Unless the fate of the world is at stake," she added quickly.
Vanillamist sighed, an unamused glare on her face. "Why would the fate of the world depend on bothering me?"
"I don't know," Joan said with a shrug. "But I can't take that risk."
Vanillamist gave a soft sigh before extending her own hand to meet with Joan's. "Very well."
The hands shook and Joan could feel the magic washing over her, binding her to her word. She really hoped she wouldn't grow to regret it.
"So, ummmm, does this mean I can see the Glowflies?" Breeze asked.
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Joan peered down below at the grounds of the outpost. She could see Francis practicing, swinging his sword to the left and right. Well. Her sword. But he seemed to be enjoying it. She reached out her hand and tried, once again, to summon Guardian Nova to her hand. It refused to come.
"Don't overexert yourself," Bauteut said.
"I'm not," Joan said. "It's bound to me, it should just come. It's supposed to be easy. The fact it's not is just… it almost feels like this is another illusion. It should feel fake. Like if I just try hard enough I'll break it and have my sword back. But… it's not working. No matter what tricks I try, I can't feel Guardian Nova. Like it's just… gone. Worse than when I'm in another trap."
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Bauteut gave a small nod before reaching out and pinching her arm.
"OW! What was that for?" Joan asked, glaring at her.
"Isn't that how you break someone out of an illusion?" Bauteut asked.
"Not this kind," Joan muttered before leaning against the railing and looking down at the grounds. "It's… kind of… there's usually little mistakes. Little flaws that you can pick up on. It's hard at first, but over time it gets easier. There's also always like… I can kind of feel Guardian Nova there, as if it is just waiting to come to me. But when I've been trapped, I couldn't summon it to me. But it was still there. Now? It feels like it's… not. Like the bond connecting us is gone entirely. Like I could bond with something new."
"How does that work?" Bauteut asked. "I've never bonded with a weapon like you did."
"There are some risks," Joan said. "You kind of meld it with your soul, in a way. It becomes one with you. You can break the bond and if the weapon is destroyed the bond is broken. Some mages can use it against you, too. But the usefulness of being able to just call your sword to your hand at any moment can't be denied. It has saved my life countless times."
"But now there's no bond at all?" Bauteut asked.
"I… think so," Joan said softly, staring down at Francis. He was getting better, too. Not as good as her, but then even if he was she doubted she'd ever admit it to herself.
After a few minutes, Bauteut broke the silence. "I… hate to suggest something terrible, but do you think it might be because you… well…"
"Because I died?" Joan asked. "Yeah, it has crossed my mind a few times. I just… the last time I felt it, I was so… it was like I was in two pieces. One part of me holding it, the other in that weird cave. Did you see my sword doing anything weird at the time?"
"I was a bit distracted," Bauteut said. "It could have been dancing and shooting fire and I wouldn't have noticed. Can you bond with another sword?"
Joan gave a groan before nodding. "Uh huh. But… I don't wanna."
To Joan's annoyance, Bauteut gave an amused snort and covered her mouth to stifle it. "S-sorry. I just… that was just such a…"
"Childish response?" Joan asked with a sigh.
"A little, yes," Bauteut said.
"I knooooow," Joan said in a whiny tone. "But it's MY sword. It's MINE! I want it BACK! Binding myself to another sword just feels wrong. I don't want another sword, I want MY sword."
"But if we're going to be visiting the Nameless One still, something I am still opposed to by the way, having you go in unarmed is a bad idea," Bauteut said.
"To be honest, going in armed or unarmed won't make much of a difference," Joan said. "Heck, having Chase with us might not make much of a difference. The Nameless One was the kind of threat against who all of the Chosen would have worked together to defeat. If I was planning to fight them, I wouldn't be going to them, I'd let them come to me. And try and get all of the Chosen together for it."
"Before they send something after you?" Bauteut said.
"If they're impatient," Joan said, though she couldn't keep the unease out of her tone when she said it. Tomorrow they would, possibly, be going to meet with the Nameless One. And they likely knew she was coming, one way or another. If that wasn't just a dying dream, then they were likely waiting for her. She doubted there was anything she could do to make her ready for whatever they were capable of. "I guess I should take the sword back from Francis. But… I just… I don't want to. It's not my sword. My sword is… somewhere else. And until I know where it is I don't want to bond with another sword. I know that's silly, but it's how I feel."
"You are a decent mage," Bauteut said. "If a sword won't be very effective, perhaps you should focus on magic?"
"I'm a much better swordswoman," Joan said. "But, possibly. He looks so happy with the sword, too. Taking it would be like stealing a… well, a title from Qakog."
"Really?" Bauteut asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're going to risk getting hurt just so you don't have to ask for your sword back? I think he'd understand."
"He would, that'd just make it worse," Joan said.
"So what do you want to do?" Bauteut asked.
"For now," Joan said. "I guess… just let him keep it. Me having that sword isn't going to make much of a difference. If I bring a sword with me, the Nameless One will probably use it to get to me in some way. They could probably use a bond against me. If I come unarmed, they…" She trailed off before snickering. "Wow. Considering them, if I go unarmed they might do nothing to me because it'd be too easy."
"That or they'll decide you deserve it because you underestimated them," Bauteut said.
"Fae suck," Joan said. "But one way or another I have to face them. They want me there now, so I don't have much choice. If I don't show up soon, they'll find a way to drag me in. Better I do it on my terms, right?"
"I hope so," Bauteut said. "Why is it every time we almost solve one problem another problem or three seem to show up with you?"
"I don't know, just lucky I guess?" Joan said with a shrug. "I hope my sword is just jealous."
"Can a sword get jealous?" Bauteut asked.
"I don't know," Joan said. "Since when do things I do have to make sense?"
"Are you as nervous as I am?" Bauteut asked.
"Honestly? A bit," Joan said. "My stomach is at least settling better. It's nice to be here. The manor was… nice? I guess?"
"The room you saw was nice," Bauteut said.
"But I never really felt comfortable," Joan said. "I couldn't relax."
"Oh?" Bauteut asked. "You don't feel comfortable in a fancy manor, but feel entirely fine in a fort surrounded by soldiers? Who would have thought?" she asked in a teasing tone.
Joan just stuck her tongue out at her in response.
All they had to do was survive one more night without getting attacked or killed and they'd be fine.
------
Joan sat up, drawing a small knife from under her pillow, ready to stab.
Bauteut stared at her, her mouth falling open. "Are… you okay?"
"What?" Joan asked, looking around the room. Slowly, she laid back down.
"That's the fourth time you've done that," Bauteut said. "You need to get some rest."
"I know," Joan said gently. She stroked her hands along the knife, sliding it back under her pillow. "Just…"
"We're as safe as we can be," Bauteut said. "There's extra guards and a Chosen one room over. If anything happens, we'll be safe."
"I hope," Joan mumbled, closing her eyes. Every nerve was on end, though. What if this was all an elaborate ruse by the Nameless One? What if they were planning something so, so much more terrible than she ever imagined? What if she was, once again, dragging her friends into a dangerous situation that could cost them all their lives? There was no telling what terrible plot they could be scheming up if they knew she was coming.
------
What if the Nameless One was waiting for them and seemed to be actually hosting a celebration for their arrival?
Joan blinked a few times before glancing back towards Vanillamist, except she was already gone. Of course.
She then turned back towards the banquet of food, the dryads, nymphs, fairies and satyrs watching them with looks of expected excitement. She blinked a few more times, trying to wipe some of the drowsiness from her eyes before she took a small step forward. "I-I… I am Joan Dusklam," she said, nervously gulping. "I… am here to meet with the Nameless One, I—"
And then there was a cheer. Joan gave a little squeak before stumbling back, looking to Bauteut and Chase for some kind of advice or guidance. "W-what do I do?" she asked softly.
"I have no idea," Bauteut whispered. "Chase?"
"Don't eat anything," Chase said softly. "This reeks of a trap."
Joan nodded slowly. She turned back towards the gathered creatures. They were tearing into the banquet now, none of them looking at her.
But she could hear them all chattering away, speaking in a dull roar.
She could FEEL all of their eyes on her. Watching her. Judging her. Measuring her. She gave a light shudder. It felt wrong. Like a performance, nothing more. Was the food even real? Were the fae?
Joan gulped before speaking up. "I… I believe the Nameless One is expecting me," she said in as clear a voice as she could. "While I don't have a proper invitation, I believe they'll be interested to see me."
"Indeed," an all-too-familiar voice said. Joan felt someone against her back and then arms reaching out, resting over her, hands clasped together in front of her. She looked up at the vaguely familiar face of the Nameless One. It was strange. They looked… different from last time. Still as mysteriously beautiful. Still somewhere between male and female. But the colors seemed different. The style. Their smile reminded her of Searle's, while their hair reminded her of Bauteut's. And those eyes, shimmering like gold, reminded her of Qakog's. It made her heart flutter and stomach feel like it was full of butterflies. "Apologies for not sending for you personally, but I felt such an invitation would not be taken in the way it would have been intended. Oh, these must be your friends, no?" they asked. "Please, partake of my realm as you wish. I know your visit here will not be a long one, but I assure you. There are no tricks, no traps. You will be free to leave as you came. Take as much as you desire."
Joan gulped and looked to Chase and Bauteut. Both were staring at the Nameless One with… rather open infatuation, their cheeks red. Even Breeze was staring, though her expression was hidden behind that mask.
Joan was, admittedly, afraid to move. The Nameless One was so close, their arms against her.
She didn't feel infatuation, though. She was afraid. For some reason she could almost imagine those hands reaching up, snapping her neck. So easy. So quickly. Even Chase wouldn't be able to stop them. They'd done it before, when she was a different little girl, the pretend daughter of the Champion, instead of a Chosen. Behind that smiling, beautiful face was a monster. Another one of the children of the Hungry One.
Joan felt all the more interested in knowing what it was they had done to her that affected her after she died and hoped it wouldn't become relevant too soon.