The Mother of Monsters

Chapter 169 – Labyrinthian III



The main camp of the subjugation force had been moved to within just a few hours march of Osan. With only the rear guard numbering at just around two thousand men combined of infantry and others, the vast campsite which had been readied for the full subjugation force felt empty oddly empty. Stepan and Mila found themselves sitting outside the command tent and staring out into the sky. The clouds hadn’t dispersed at all, leaving the sky as grey-white as the rest of the world around them. Mila rubbed her hands together, Stepan’s powers had forced away most of winter’s chill but there was still enough to numb her knuckles if she sat still long enough.

“Damn the humans for throwing themselves into a winter campaign,” She grumbled, tugging on her hair irritably as a few men walked by, distracted by their own internal conversation.

“It’ll be over and we’ll be back home,” Stepan said easily, “The palace will be warm.”

She sighed and leaned back, gripping the sides of her seat to make sure she didn’t fall over, “How do you think the King will reward us?”

“I’m planning on asking for a house crest,” Stepan said, “Let’s see the high houses look down on me after that.”

Mila snorted, “Vain.”

“Oh yeah? What about you?” He demanded.

“I want one of his sons,” She said darkly, sitting up straight again and staring at the back of one of the human soldier’s heads. “Who needs to work to make a new house when one is already built just for me.”

“You think he’d give you one of his sons? Just like that?” He asked, disbelief plain in his voice.

“Why not?” She asked, “If he knows what’s good for him anyway. What’s he going to do?” She chuckled, “He could sic an ascendant on me!” She gasped sarcastically, “Oh wait!”

Stepan snorted, “Okay, fair.”

A sudden rousing of voices drew them away from their conversation. Shouts coming from the west side of the camp. Stepan got to his feet, Mila following shortly after. They looked at one another and broke into a short jog, coming to a stop just as a human soldier came running in their direction. He looked frightened. He slid to a stop and cleared his throat, the cold air making it just a little difficult to breathe. He took a short breath and brought his fist to his chest, inclining his head.

“Report,” Mila commanded.

“Something was approaching us from the west, it looks like a carriage made of ice!” He said hurriedly.

“Was? Is it gone?” Stepan pressed, glancing at Mila who raised her eyebrows.

“No sir, it stopped just at the far hill, nothing is pulling it! It was flying through the air and then came to the ground!” The soldier rambled. He pointed in that direction.

“A flying carriage?” Mila asked dubiously, “Let’s see this thing.”

She pushed past Stepan and made her way to the west side of the camp. Stepan hurried after her and before long they were standing atop the impromptu palisades that had been set up to wall off the rear of the camp. She squinted across the snowy field before them. The hill their camp started on dipped down before rising again and cresting. There, at the top of the next hill over was a off-white box that seemed to be sitting on wheels of some kind. She shouted for a spyglass and was quickly given one. She peered through it, the snowfall obscuring her vision a little as she tried to process what she was seeing.

“It looks like a carriage alright,” She murmured, passing the spyglass to Stepan who looked through as well.

He frowned, “Someone’s coming out of it,” He said, “Looks like a woman,” He paused and swallowed, “She’s beautiful…”

Mila snatched the spyglass from him and peered through it again, there, standing next to the carriage, was a woman in all white. A white robe floated around her body in the wind and her silver-white hair cast about her head in tendrils of starlight. She seemed to glow, the snow reflecting the light coming off of her paper-white skin. It cast a halo of pale-white light around her body. Mila pressed her lips together, she knew that coloration. It was a distinct off-white that came from only one kind of magic, “Death Magic.”

“A death aspect user?” Stepan whispered, “Out here?”

Mila frowned and looked a bit closer, there was something black around the woman’s neck. It looked like some sort of animal. She opened her mouth to relay the information when the strange pale maiden whipped her head in Mila’s direction. Mila froze, yellow eyes, glowing brightly behind a partially veiled mask. The woman started to walk towards their camp, the snow picking up a bit more, obscuring her a little. Mila lowered the spyglass and handed it back to Stepan before muttering an incantation under her breath.

“You there!” Mila shouted, her voice amplified by her spell, “You are approaching a military camp! I suggest you return from whence you came!”

The woman didn’t stop walking, a sound carried over the distance between them, words that seemed to echo for a second. Mila raised her right hand, “Archers! Positions!” She bellowed, “The target appears to wield death magic, do not let her near the camp!”

A second sound came, this one louder and clearer. Mila realized that the first sound had been a spell for voice amplification. The second sound was singing. There were no words, it was more like an aria than anything, just a beautiful voice that seemed to tug at Mila’s heart and mind. She felt her fingers go a little numb, sensation leaving her shoulders as she gripped the side of the palisade. A sudden twitch of will brought her back to her senses. She blinked away a feeling of sluggishness that faded in an instant. The song was still going. Frowning, Mila gestured with her arm, “Fire!”

No arrows flew, “I said fire!” Mila shouted.

She turned and felt her stomach twist as she took in the soldiers lining the walls. They all stared at the woman with blank looks on their faces. She whipped her head towards Stepan who was rubbing his face, coming out of his own stupor. The woman continued to sing as she spread her arms wide. She was close enough now that Mila could make out finer details. The cat hanging around her shoulders, the way her fingers looked like talons, the strange gait. Mila blinked and three magic circles formed at the woman’s back. All three circles grew large with the centermost one growing the largest among them. The song still addling her mind it took a few seconds for her to process what she was seeing.

“Summoner!’ Mila shouted, turning to shake Stepan who came fully to alertness. He whipped his head toward the invading figure and drew a gladius from his hip. She looked back in time to see the two smaller circles flash and two walking nightmares to rise out of the ground. Skeletons made of ice that towered over twenty-five feet in the air. The skeletons were wreathed in pale-white light and their skull-like faces were twisted and eerie. One of them roared, stomping past their summoner while the other was still taking shape. She whirled, moving to the first soldier she saw, and slapped him across the face. “Wake the hell up! She’s controlling you!”

“Mila!” Stepan shouted.

She ignored, him, shaking the soldier, “Snap out of it you fool!”

“Mila!” He bellowed.

She whipped her head back toward him and then heard the third roar. Guttural and fierce. Her blood went cold as she turned her head in the direction of the source. The third circle had been completed and standing there was a thick, enormous humanoid. Its body hunched over a heavy gut, four powerful fingers clenched and unclenched as it cast its single eye over the scene before it. Her hands lowered to her sides, “Cyclops.”

Its single, enormous eye began to glow and Stepan grabbed her arm, “Get down!”

The two of them hurled themselves off the side of the palisade and toward the snowy ground beneath them. As they did, a concentrated beam of pale-white light cast itself over the rails, sweeping from right to left. Screams of pain were immediately cut off as blackened and withered bodies fell to the ground around them.

The ground beneath their hands trembled, but not with the approach of the coming giants. Something was beneath the surface, crawling up. The two of them scrambled to their feet and hurried toward the center of the rear camp, shouting out a call to arms. Men who weren’t within range of the woman’s singing began to arm themselves. Mila began to wrap protective spells around herself, her elven regeneration working its way over her skin and sinking into her veins. Stepan did the same just as a rilk drone burst out of the ground. The creature’s white chiton and pinkish flesh a stark contrast from the rilks they’d seen before. Stepan whipped his arm to the right, bisecting the creature with a flash of red light. It collapsed just as two more of the horrors came burrowing out of the ground.

“I thought Rilks hibernated in the winter!” Stepan shouted.

Mila spun and twisted her fingers into an intricate shape, pointing at a Rilk Soldier that screeched at her from the side. Behind it, more of the monstrosities were coming out of the ground and spreading out through the camp. Shouts of men fighting carried about them. She released her ability and a lance of dark stone ripped through the creature’s body, killing it in an instant. She snarled, whipping her head around and trying to make sense of the chaos. They needed to regain control somehow! Another roar drew her attention back to the western side of the camp where the two creatures she swore were death elementals climbed over the palisade. The cyclops came shortly after, the woman standing on top of it.

“Who the hell is that?” Stepan shouted, kicking another drone away from himself as more and more of the things came out of the ground.

Mila couldn’t move, she was transfixed. “A pale maiden with nightmares at her command,” She said numbly.

“What?” Stepan shouted, “Mila focus!” He wrenched his arm into the air and spires of ice erupted from the ground, impaling several rilks that had crowded around her. Mila didn’t so much as twitch, she just swallowed as awe overtook her.

“Age eater,” She breathed, “Myranda’s vision.”

The cyclops stepped over another set of tents, soldiers screamed, bodies fell to the ground. Rilks crawled atop human corpses and feasted on their flesh. Mila heard Stepan’s voice again, this time it sounded distant amidst the din of death. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the myth given form. She clenched her fists, her jaw tightening. An ascendant? Probably. She finally tore her eyes away from the woman and looked at Stepan. “We’re done here, no point in dying for doomed men.”

Her fellow ascendant nodded, kicking away another rilk only to freeze in place. His eyes went wide. He was looking at something behind her. Mila’s stomach tightened and she turned her head to look over her shoulder, the woman was standing there, looking down at them from her greater height. Stepan brandished his weapon in her direction and the woman raised a hand. Mila immediately threw up a barrier between them, protecting herself and Stepan. Nothing happened, no flare of power, no attack from the woman. Then Stepan let out a shout of surprise and Mila turned to see his sword writhing in his hand. “What the hell is this? I can’t let go!”

Mila ran over to his side and drew on her powers, her fingertips crackling with green energy. She reached for the blade only for the pommel to split open, revealing rows of teeth. From within the distorted maw a tendril lashed out at Stepan’s neck, wrapping around it. The creature pulled itself from Stepan’s grip, latching on to his throat just as she pressed her fingers against it. Panic finally set in as blood erupted from his throat, she grabbed onto the handle of the weapon and released the charged energy. A flash of green electricity ripped through the blade and into Stepan’s body, her friend screamed and crumpled, the blade blackened and dead. She tore the weapon off of his throat and tried to kneel down to heal him, the warmth of the Aspect of the Vigil washing over her fingertips before fading away.

Mila looked at her hands, “What? Why isn’t it working? No, no no!”

“My death elementals produce an anti-healing aura for my enemies,” Came a cold female voice from behind her, “Your comrade is going to die here.”

Mila spun, wide-eyed, and looked up to see the woman standing over her. She paled and shrank back, scrambling over Stepan’s dying form. “A-age eater,” She bleated, pushing away with her feet.

The woman tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, “You’re kind of weak for an Ascendant, right?”

“M-my powers are occupied with supporting the human’s army,” Mila admitted, “I-I can dispel it! I’ll take my friend here and we’ll go straight home! He was protecting them from the weather and I was supporting their stamina. Without me, they’ll tire quickly!”

“Go home?” She asked.

“To the elflands in the north! I-I’m sure our king would welcome you with open arms and reward you if you spared us!” Mila begged.

The woman stepped over Stepan and drew closer to Mila. Around them, the chaos had grown into a fever pitch. Something was shaking the ground again, something big. Mila trembled, trying to collect her wits enough to do something to fight back. Even if she dispelled the vigil’s blessing it would take time for her reserves to build back up. She couldn’t fight someone like this! She wasn’t built for it! The woman knelt and looked Mila square in the eyes. Behind her, the ground exploded, tents, bodies, and dirt flying into the air as a Rilk Queen erupted from the ground. It let out a terrible cry, thrashing its bladed arms.

“I’ve already dealt with your king, your home as you knew it is gone,” The woman hissed, “You made a mistake agreeing to come here. You should have fled, hid, anything but obey.”

“Gone?” Mila squeaked and in a flash something hard wrapped around her neck. She reached up to grab at the woman's wrist and felt cold metal beneath her fingers. She looked down at the mechanical arm and tried to pull it away, reaching up to grasp and claw at the limb. She kicked her feet, shaking her head. She couldn’t breathe! Not like this! Something began to burn against her skin and she let out a gasp of pain, struggling to get away from the monster in living flesh. It felt so cold. Frost began to form on her fingers as her strength melted away.

“Don’t worry, the humans are next,” The woman whispered as the light faded from Mila’s eyes.


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