RE: Monarch

My voice sounded distant as I spoke. "It's been a difficult few days. I haven't slept well. Even before that, my mind was troubled. Seeing people who weren't there, hearing voices when no one was speaking. I'm also having trouble adjusting, going from the idyllic peace of the countryside to the sallow hellscape of now. I feel not myself. Given all of that… what the fuck did you just say to me?"
Thoth didn't look intimidated. In my experience, she rarely did, even facing down my father after the coronation. The way she did look was like a person who realized they'd miscalculated and suddenly found themselves searching for alternatives.
I offered one. Frigidly. "It was my assumption that Bellarex was dead. If that's who you're referring to, I wouldn't call her that even after what she did to me. It seemed rather obvious that you would save yourself in lieu of those in your service."
"In my service?" Thoth barked a laugh. It was as though this was always what she'd intended to speak about, and the loose comment wasn't intended toward Lillian at all. "Cairn. She was the most obvious spy I've ever seen."
I nearly doubled down, summoning up as much surprise, outrage, and denial as I could muster, covering Bell's lapses best I could. Somehow I bit it back at the last moment. She was already convinced enough that she wouldn't believe me, and no assertions to the contrary were going to turn her mind. It didn't matter. Bell and everyone else was dead. So long as I ended my loop before it was ended for me, Thoth wouldn't remember any of this.
It wasn't a betrayal, even if it felt like one. "Why did you keep her around if it was that obvious?"
"Because being an ancient being gets so terribly lonely, and her tears made a
tonic of youth." Thoth looked up in silent regret, eyes welling up slightly at the memory.
Time was on her side, making it far easier to be a better mage, fighter, and figurehead. But somehow the reveal that she was a better actor left a particularly bitter taste in my mouth.
"An eternity of laughing at your own jokes. No wonder you turned out so twisted." I scoffed, staring into the flames.
"Yes.
is the reason." Thoth trailed off, her expression oddly thoughtful. When she spoke again, her voice was so soft it was almost unrecognizable. "Dear sweet Bell. So desperate for love and affection that she'd accept it from anyone. Even one she considers an enemy. You know, all she wanted was to be seen as normal, to be treated like a person with needs and feelings instead of a dirty voidling traitor. I rather liked her company."
How unexpected.
Monsters and sadists rarely managed to conjure compassion for any suffering that didn't echo their own. The narrative took shape in my mind. It made a lot of sense. I could almost see it. "Is that what you used to be? An outcast? Capable and skilled, but too mired by stigma to be given a real chance?"
The slightest flicker of surprise. Not that I was right, but that I'd asked at all.
"Shall I tell you my story, since I've earned the delight of your interest?" She tilted her head to the side and placed her hands beneath her jaw in a manner I was somewhat certain was meant to be endearing, only it looked horrifying on her visage, utterly out of place.
My instinct said she'd give me less than nothing, set me up only to laugh at my gullibility. Still, my breath caught in my throat.
"There is not much left in this place beyond the stories we both hold."
"Mmm." Her response was carefully neutral.
"It could help pass the time. But it doesn't really matter much either way."
She paused, then cackled. "No, no! I am not some tavern whore, quick to spread my legs and lower my prices at the first sign of flagging interest."
"That would be a cruel comparison," I agreed, perfectly deadpan.
Her golden eye swept over me, lingering, then fleeting. "If you prostrate yourself, pronounce me the rightful empress of this realm, reject your claim on your father's stolen throne and swear an oath of fealty, I'll tell you everything. Everything about who I was, and where I came from."
"Why? There is no kingdom left to inherit."
"No matter. I'd enjoy it. Does there need to be any other reason?" She chuckled.
Maybe not. On its face, it really wasn't that bad of an offer. If it actually worked the way she implied, I could effectively take whatever secret she held to my eventual death and return with the critical knowledge intact. I'd died screaming for my mother more than once, and turned utterly craven in the bondage of demons. Dignity had stopped being a concern long ago.
But, on the topic of demons, I'd come to understand the terrifying nature of covenants and the power within them. Judging from the demons she summoned during our quarrel in the Sanctum, Thoth was equally aware of the power such contracts could hold.
Add with the fact that she was being very specific and thorough in her wording, and it simply wasn't worth the risk.
"Forget it."
"Defeat without so much as a counter-offer?"
"The rancid giggling's putting me off. My interest is mercurial. Do what you will."
I stood and left her by the fire, making a dismissive gesture. As I went about attending the camp, reviewing the map and route for the following day, I felt her watching me, waiting for me to break, change my mind, or show signs of weakness. It was unlikely that I'd be able to wear her down. She'd been patient for less for far longer.
"Perhaps a wager instead?" Thoth tried.
There was something in her voice. A barely detectable tremor of discomfort. My instinct was that ignoring it would be the wrong move. If there was a vulnerability there, it wouldn't linger for long. I needed to find out what it was, where it came from, and whether it was exploitable before it disappeared, all without putting myself in an equally disadvantageous position.
Again, I blunted my interest, forcing caution. "What are the stakes?"
She leaned forward, her eye glittering in the firelight. "I'll tell you three stories. When I'm done, you divine what is true, and I'll answer any single question you ask me."
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
"And if I'm wrong?"
"I'll take something from you."
The words chilled me.
"Nothing too important." She scanned me up and down, seemingly unaware of the distress she'd inadvertently caused. Her eyes trailed to my shoulder. "But something immediate. Something you'll miss. That arm you wield so inefficiently."
Ironically, the fact that she was willing to clearly spell out the gruesome, unpleasant consequences actually made me feel a great deal better. "What the hell did it do to you?" I looked down at the offending appendage.
"Nothing. I'm simply wanting for entertainment, and watching you struggle to do simple things with only one will be endlessly amusing." Thoth grinned widely.
"That's your price?" I asked, playing at hesitancy.
"Unless you'd rather kneel."
It was increasingly obvious that Thoth was more acclimated to the person I used to be than the person I was. And while there was a point in my life when the sight of blood and a little light dismemberment was enough to give me pause, that point was so far gone from my mind I barely remembered what thinking that way felt like.
I'd be leaving this body behind, at the end of this. Nothing that happened to it mattered.
With that in mind, I dumped another load of wood onto the fire, ensuring it stayed lit for at least an hour. Then I laid out one of the small cushions I'd looted from the wagon and took a seat, setting parchment and a pen to my right side, a dagger to the left.
"Whenever you're ready."
"And the terms?"
To distract from my actual intentions, I summoned the most winning smile I could, honed from countless dinners with sycophants and the overly religious, designed to impart comfort and warmth. "If I guess wrong, feel free to cut away." I tapped just below my elbow with two fingers, barely feeling the impact through the chitin.
Defining the exact length wouldn't stop her from taking my whole hand if she decided to throw out the entire bet, but better defining the terms of any exchange was better for both parties. Plus, with the offer of blood, I hoped she wouldn't see the trick.
"I'm not some guileless idiot who's never ridden a breyback before." Her eyes were daggers. "It will be difficult to cut through at that point without magical assistance. I'd need to work from the shoulder down."
Would that kill me? Maybe.
She stopped there, short of fully voicing the accusation.
I let it slide just for the moment and sketched a quick note on my parchment.
It was a highly specific reference regarding a particular breed of horse from the plains. The breed was alluring for many reasons. Long, beautiful manes often of secondary colors, strong musculature and good stature. In the wild of the plains they were quite friendly, and often filled their bellies by befriending soldiers posted there, approaching their camps with proud canters and gentle eyes, pilfering what they could from fireside meals.
As the saying goes, there is no man more in need of a friend than a soldier. And desperation does not beget discernment.
So, often, and most typically being advised to the contrary, a soldier would look between a small pile of gems and riches worth their weight in gold that would otherwise be his share, and the friendly, approachable horse that had kept him company over months of hell, and choose the latter.
There are many theories for why Breybacks seem to sprout a second, more unpleasant personality that overtakes the first after they are removed from the plains. Some more folklore than fact. Personally, I subscribe to the idea that the plains are one of the few points in central Uskar near ocean level, and because of that disposition, Breybacks suffer a great deal acclimating to higher altitudes.
Regardless, a few wingspans from their native environment is all it takes to transform a loyal and cooperative horse into a stubborn mule, much to the dismay of the soldiers who ferried them. Most will keep their spoiled plunder for a time, hoping the horse will come around, eventually returning to the friend they knew.
Some creatures simply can not adapt beyond their natural environment. This is the way of things.
Nevertheless, it can be a painful lesson to learn. Often, without better options and plagued with injuries that persist long after a campaign, the soldiers attempt to recoup their losses, turning around and selling the dear friend they brought home to a noble in the capital, nobles being notorious for buying purely on aesthetic. It was a prolific enough scam that there were laws enacted purely to stymie the practice.
It was also a predominantly human turn of phrase. Infernals didn't particularly care for horses, as their subterranean trappings suited equines poorly. Wood elves would occasionally make use of wild horses as mounts, sometimes going as far as to ride them into battle, but the premise of domestication sat poorly with them. Of the non-humans, a light elf was most likely to be aware of the scam, but it was primarily a human saying. And not just human.
Specifically noble.
Again, it was possible she was exactly what she appeared to be. A person of mixed heritage who took umbrage with the kingdom's overreach and had an obvious talent for leadership and combat. Hardly unbelievable. Her frame was overly long. She had a wood elf's pointed ears and sharpened teeth, a light elf's pale unaffected skin, and an infernal's tough black nails. The dwarven shape gave her nose a vaguely mountainous feel. Of all her features, the golden eye was the only one that was exclusively hers.
Human features were the only ones entirely absent.
Maybe she was just the perfect combination of features to play her part. But it felt calculated. Entirely too convenient. And as I'd become increasingly aware, magic could do much to alter a person's appearance.
Did I like Thoth for a noble?
Possibly. There was a crassness to her brutality, a sort of over-insistence on reveling in whatever horribleness she inflicted. The closest comparison I had was Gil. My father was often cruel, but his cruelty was never the end. It always served a purpose. Thoth, by contrast, gave off the impression she simply enjoyed hurting people.
My fingers went to the still inert medallion at my neck as I recalled the words Vogrin had spoken.
He had no way of knowing for sure. But maybe I could find out.
With endless years of absolute power and little challenge beyond an unconquerable ending, even the most creative sadist would eventually find themselves mired in boredom.
I had a strong feeling she'd been lying for at least as long as she'd been practicing magic, and she was the most powerful practitioner on the planet by far.
She was still glowering at me, waiting for a response to her provocation. I chided myself. Making her wait was a petty delight I took small succor in, but she was absolutely the sort of person who would kill me if I made it too obvious that I didn't think she actually would. At least not for the immediate future. Best to let that notion stay untested.
I set the charcoal down. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."
"One cannot guess incorrectly if they do not guess at all. Breyback." Thoth responded, disdain clear in her voice.
I put two fingers to my forehead and made a pained noise. "We are not demons, negotiating technicalities. Our word is hardly bond—I wouldn't expect you to uphold such a thing even if that was my intent. But I see your point. How would you prefer to amend the terms?"
There was a moment of thought, then her golden eye turned wicked. "I wouldn't."
"No?"
She shook her head. "Even if you guess incorrectly, it will still narrow things down quite significantly.”
"A little difficult to sift wheat from chaff, considering the absence of both." I made a gesture encompassing our surroundings.
"Maybe for you." She half-shrugged. "But it would be possible."
"Technically. Even then, it's hardly worth it."
Thoth leaned over the fire, the orange flames coloring her features, seemingly unaffected by the heat. "Don't pretend. You can't help but untangle a knot even when it drops the rope that holds you. When signs and prophecies are screaming for you to stop, no matter how long you went on without noticing whatever it is, the moment you catch a glimpse it's all you can see. The forest, for the trees."
I started to speak, then her words, and the way she said them, echoed in my mind. I chuckled. "For a second it almost sounded like you didn't hate me."
"On the contrary." She growled, her expression dark. "There is nothing about you I hate more."
In the sobering silence, I realized she was right. There was no way I could ever let this go with anything short of my soul as forfeit.
"Let's begin."