Re: Butterfly (Reincarnated as a Butterfly)

The air was filled with cheers for a solid ten minutes after Alistair defeated the demons' champion.

If anything, the din grew louder as the King approached the walls of Wayn, walking with support from some high noble who had followed after him outside the walls, ready to serve as his second.

Goldie didn't know the titles well. She thought the noble who went with Alistair had a similar rank to that of William and Frederick's father, but that was just based on a remark Frederick had made.

She was really an outsider in all of this, and she felt it now more than she usually did. The city was saved, apparently. She was relieved about that. This was where she, her children, Adon, and her other friends lived, after all.

There would be other cities, other gardens, if she and her offspring needed to move on, but being forced to leave a home behind and wander in the wilderness wasn't a desirable outcome.

She couldn't share fully in the joy of the city residents, though. Part of it was the fact that Wayn was still surrounded by a force that even she, with her lack of knowledge of military affairs, could tell outmatched what she had seen present inside the city.

Would they even leave as promised? Just based on losing a single fight?

The defeat of a single fighter seemed like a strange and arbitrary reason to abandon a mission the Empire had clearly invested a great deal into. If an ant was lost when the colony sought some prize, the remaining ants didn't turn around and go home. They didn't even hesitate. They rushed forward and ripped the enemy to pieces.

The other thing that bothered Goldie was more personal. She didn't know many people in the city well. But the King had been her host.

Everyone else on the walls was shouting about his victory and the fact that he was walking back mostly under his own power despite taking several heavy blows in the fight.

Goldie looked closely, though. She probably had better vision than most of these humans.

She could see that the King was still bleeding from that stab wound in his abdomen, and it was perhaps more blood than should normally seep from such a wound. He left a trail of red behind him clear enough for any tracker to follow. And he seemed to be getting weaker even as he applied healing magic to himself, pressing a mana-coated hand around the wound.

Goldie looked at Samson, who sent a simple, I see it, affirming what she had observed.

Why isn't the healing working? she sent back.

But Samson gave no answer. He almost certainly knew as little as she did.

The mood of the young lords was somber, too. And the few magical knights who were near them on the battlements cheered, but they did so tepidly, with worried expressions.

Goldie could feel it in the air and specifically in the currents of thought running around her. The people who were actually in the know about magical duels specifically, and combat generally, were more worried than pleased.

Frederick, will you take me back to my children? Goldie sent telepathically. The city is surrounded, but they should still be safe at the palace. Unless agents loyal to the Empire decide to sneak in and kill off any defenseless mystic beasts that may be lurking.

She had no reason to think her offspring would actually become mystic beasts, other than their parentage and the fact that Samson had already achieved the same thing. And she wasn't only or even primarily worried about enemies inside the palace.

The truth was, she had a terrible sense of foreboding that she felt ill-equipped to explain.

Frederick turned his head to her and gave the slightest nod, and Goldie felt that he understood. He didn't want to ask any questions, but he could tell what was going through her mind.

"Brother, we should leave tomorrow morning—no, tonight!" Frederick muttered under his breath. "Take Goldie, Samson, and the other young hatchlings with us, and—"

"Did you forget?" William whispered fiercely. "What the King asked me to do? Ordered me to do?"

"That is right," Frederick said quietly. "The Princess."

William nodded, his lips set in a thin grim line. "The Princess. Honor demands that we return her to her father."

Frederick grunted. "Yes, yes, honor."

Goldie wanted them to return for Adon and Princess Rosslyn—the spider had grown to appreciate the Princess almost as if she was a member of her own family—but she saw Frederick's point. It would objectively be the most practical move to go straight to Dessia from here, especially if they had any doubts about Claustria's fate.

Almost at the same moment that Frederick was reluctantly acceding to his brother's quiet demand, the King arrived at the section of wall beneath them. The gate began to open for him.

For a moment, he tilted his head up. Goldie could not say for certain what the King looked at, because the sun was behind him at that angle. But William and Frederick seemed to know.

Both young lords stiffened, and then Frederick took a step away from William, as if distancing himself from some incoming attack.

Then the gate was open enough that the King strode through, breaking his eye contact in their general direction.

The young lords let out a long, simultaneous breath.

"You felt that, too?" William muttered after a moment.

"I suppose it had an area of effect rather than being aimed at a specific target," Frederick replied, grimacing. "We had best go back into the dungeon as quickly as possible, then. If the King even suspects for a moment that we would do otherwise, he will snap both of our necks, regardless of diplomatic niceties."

Or his own health, the young lord added in his mind.

Goldie resolved to continue keeping a close eye on Alistair after that, although it wasn't easy at first.

The party descended from the wall and back into the city, following in the trail of the King and the adoring crowd, every member of which seemed to want to lay hands on their savior or simply bask in the glow of his presence.

This blocked Alistair from their view. The only thing they could see were occasional glimpses of his strong back, held upright as best as he could, as he advanced back toward the palace.

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When they finally reached the entrance, the crowd seemed to recognize that the moment had arrived to make themselves scarce. Queen Carolien emerged, leaving her two oldest children near the entrance, she took two awkward, stiff steps forward—Goldie was reminded that she still had residual injuries from her own encounter with the Empire—and she threw her arms around Alistair's neck and planted a kiss on his lips.

The gathered throng cheered loudly, the royal couple turned and waved, and then they walked back to their children.

The people began to disperse almost instantly, while William, Frederick, and the spiders followed through the same entrance the Royal Family had used.

Frederick did just as Goldie had asked him to and led her to the room where her children were. They were doing much the same as they had been doing when Goldie left earlier—killing everything that still lived inside the palace smaller than roughly the size of a cat.

This time, the spiderlings had a mated pair of fieldmice in their collective web. They had apparently collaborated to trap and drain them, and Goldie felt a surge of pride as Frederick walked her and Samson in while the young ones were in the midst of injecting their venom into the immobile prey.

I taught them well, she thought to herself. They're ready… for the next stage of the journey.

Every spider made his or her own way in the world eventually. Goldie sensed that this place, the palace, might not be a stable home for her and her brood for much longer. Everything about how the city had reacted to Alistair's victory seemingly signaled a return to normal, to peace and prosperity, but the spiders could not allow themselves to be fooled that matters would ever be stable again.

Rosslyn was gone for now, and the King might be seriously hurt. Who knew what would happen if he died?

The spider spent perhaps an hour gathered with her offspring that were less sophisticated than Samson, transferring memories to them telepathically. Life skills. Narratives of her life with Red. Things the little spiders would need to know if they found themselves in the true wild. The information was boiled down to its essentials for ease of transfer and understanding, but she hoped they would be able to use it.

Sammy, please give them what you can, Goldie sent.

I will, he sent. What will you be doing?

The mother didn't answer him directly, just looped him in on her next telepathic exchange, with Frederick.

Can we check on the King? Goldie asked.

Frederick had stayed with them while Goldie attended to the hatchlings, looking on approvingly, while his brother attended to the business of preparing for their next departures, to the dungeon again and home to Dessia.

Absolutely, Frederick thought, nodding. We might have to sneak past a couple of royal guards to do it. The King's health was a matter of national security secrecy just days ago, to the point that I didn't know he was sick until long after his illness had set in. It should not be especially difficult, but I wanted you to know the slight risk of getting into trouble with the Claustrians.

That is all right with me, Goldie sent. As long as I'm not causing major problems for you.

"Far from it," he murmured. "We are already planning to leave as soon as we complete this rescue for Rosslyn anyway, and we have done enough in the Kingdom's service while we were here that they certainly have no cause to complain.

There was a pause, and then he added, silently, I find it sweet that you are so worried about the King… and I love how attentive you are to others' needs in general.

Goldie could feel the undercurrents in Frederick's expressed thoughts. As with Adon, her Telepathy was growing steadily more powerful, though she was still much weaker with it than her friend.

Frederick was thinking, just under the surface, that she was a good mother, and would be again. A layer below that, he was still a little surprised, albeit pleasantly so, that mystic beasts were far less monstrous than he had allowed himself to believe before he met them.

It was a development in his understanding of the world that had taken some time in coming, but to his credit, Frederick had been more open-minded than his initial beliefs might have suggested. It helped that he was accustomed to being misunderstood himself.

Frederick laid his palm flat on the floor next to Goldie, and she clambered up onto it and quickly advanced to his shoulder.

Then they set off.

Getting around the guard rotation was easy enough. Frederick and Goldie were among the most trusted guests within the palace, and the mystic beasts' quarters where they had started out were already within the secured cordon of the Royal Family's private quarters.

Frederick only snuck past a single knight who was patrolling, and then he was ten feet away from the door to Alistair's sick room, where the King had likely returned.

Another knight stood guard outside the room, lending credence to that theory.

Are you ready to get into trouble? Frederick asked with a small smile.

If we have to in order to find out how the King is doing, Goldie replied.

He let her off of his shoulder, and Goldie crawled up the wall and onto the ceiling. She was a very large spider, but it was not natural to anyone to look up at the ceiling unless they had already noticed something was up.

And she had a ready distraction.

"Whoa!" Frederick loudly staggered down the hall, moving drunkenly, clutching at furniture and tapestries to stay upright.

The knight turned his full attention to the young lord and did not seem to look up at all at the big spider who was slowly advancing overhead, outpacing the young lord by only a step or two.

"What are you doing down here?" the knight demanded. "This area is open to the Royal Family only."

"I have been celebrating the King's victory, and now I wish to see the King!" Frederick exclaimed.

Frederick's clumsy walk slowed as the knight approached to confront him.

The young lord took a flask from his hip and swigged a drink that smelled strongly of alcohol.

"Do you not know who I am?" he said, hiccuping at the end of the question.

The knight reached within a couple of feet of the lord and laid a hand on Frederick's shoulder, but the young man spun away from his touch.

"I am only concerned with who is and is not allowed admittance to this room," the knight said, laying a hand on his sheathed sword. "You may be a guest, even an important guest, but still—"

"This is an outrage!" Frederick roared, slurring the last word. "I have fought for this Kingdom, though my brother and I came on diplomacy from another nation. I just want to see my father's old friend and check if he is all right, and I am threatened with violence! If something happens to King Alistair—"

"Please quiet down," the knight said in a low voice, taking his hand off his weapon. "They are performing delicate medical procedures inside that room."

Frederick slid to the side and slipped almost fully around the guard before the knight managed to lay hands on his shoulders, more firmly this time.

It didn't stop Frederick from getting his fingers around the doorknob, twisting, and jerking it slightly open.

"Now see here, young man!" the knight growled. "I do not care who your father is!"

He yanked Frederick away from the door and tapped it shut with a booted foot.

But not before a single, very large arachnid managed to gain entry crawling along the ceiling.

Goldie did not witness what happened to Frederick next, but she was confident that he would be all right. At worst, William would have to apologize for his brother's drunken actions.

She focused on what she saw before her. There were curtains hung up everywhere, blocking the bed where King Alistair lay from view. Goldie saw shadows moving around behind the curtain, lit by candlelight.

She heard murmurings.

"The wound was healed, so why was it still bleeding on the inside?"

"Is there something left inside the wound?"

"The fragment is small. Do you think the weapon was designed to break up?"

"Not our concern. We only have to take care of the King's recovery."

"His body still had residual poison in it…"

"Wait, is it possible the fragments of the dagger were poisoned?"

"We cannot be certain we have recovered all of it. I just found a smaller piece."

Goldie's instincts seemed to have been correct.

The Kingdom will not return to normal after this.