RE: Monarch

There was a long enough interval between Thoth's messy departure and eventual return that I was able to finish off most of the list. Which was fortuitous. The arch-mage was in poor spirits, expression brooding and unsettled, and had reverted to her earlier behavior of responding to practically anything with clipped yes-or-no answers.
It was dissatisfying. Because while I wasn't sure how to interpret what had transpired before she'd stolen off into the night, my list of curiosities had only grown longer.
Could she bring the spare back, or was it gone for good? What were its limitations?
What potion was she so torn up over?
Why bother killing the spare at all?
They'd need to wait, at least for the immediate future. If I could eventually lure her into a better mood, it might be possible to tease out an answer to the first and second points.
The third though—that would be tougher. She'd lied in a moment it should have felt natural to share, when an explanation and example of whatever-it-was would have been relevant to the topic at hand. I knew three of the ingredients, as well as how they were prepared. That didn't necessarily mean anything—a lot of ingredients could be used to drastically different ends in alchemy and apothecary both. But it would narrow the scope, make the potential outcomes somewhat obvious at least. I could observe, monitor her condition for symptoms. Outside of that, an answer might come from the Royal Alchemist, once all this horribleness was gone, and my mind knew peace again. If she was protective enough of whatever it was to lie purely reflexively, inquiring would only further undo the little progress we had made.
On the final point, I wasn't sure even Thoth had an explanation for it. It had come out of nowhere. A sudden, pointless explosion of violence that at the very least could be considered a terrible waste of mana, because the spare had failed to accomplish something that, judging from the reaction and seeming fruitlessness of the subsequent search, Thoth herself also failed to do.
Furthermore, the words she'd spoken to the spare felt too weighted to be focused merely on the topic at hand.

But I was likely getting too in my head about it. From her own account, she was aware of my perceptions, my tendencies to obsess over minor details. And it was entirely within her purview to do things simply because she believed doing so would confuse or bother me in some way.

I tried to take it for what it was. A sobering reminder to always remain on guard.
We made good distance the next few days. Our supplies suffered somewhat from the plodding pace, but it was indeed safer. As loath as I was to admit it, having Thoth as a companion was a little like strolling into the hells with a devil on your arm.
She was far more frightening than anything we were likely to encounter.
More specifically, she seemed to have a sixth sense for being watched.
On several occasions, I watched her march half a wingspan off the path and drag several mana-deprived undead from behind bushes, or pluck them from copses of trees, dispatching them brutally and efficiently. It was a little disconcerting, because I was fairly certain she wasn't using magic. Her mana felt steady, lacking the typical ebb and flow that occurs when something is either actively cast or passively maintained.
Despite that, she just... knew. It was uncanny.
There was no denying that it made the journey forward more reasonable. On one such occasion, she'd returned, wiping the viscera free from her curved dagger.
"Well done. You'd think they'd be wary by now."
Thoth nodded, again answering with silence, as had become her custom. The scarf she'd fixed around her neck had shifted some, revealing the bite mark from before. It looked considerably worse, pocked with yellow pus. Angry dark marks where the teeth had made contact radiated scarlet.
I tilted my head for a better look, sighing in annoyance when she pulled the scarf down. "That's not getting better."
Thoth opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Feigned concern does not become you."
"We don't have to be friendly for me to be concerned." I raised an eyebrow. "Having a ghoul disposal expert is practically invaluable in the current scope. It's kept these princely fingers immaculately clean."
She brushed by me, shoulder clipping mine hard enough to make a point. "Charming. Drink more purifying draught. You're hallucinating."
"Hallucinating that you have an abhorrent, festering wound riddled with infection alarmingly proximate to your heart?" I called after her.
"No. That anyone gives a shit what you think." She snapped over her shoulder, voice loud enough that it echoed.
"Charming." And then lower. "Sure. Just raise our voices while we trudge about this hellscape. Not like there's anything around to hear us."
Still, I was vexed as I watched her range out, taking long strides towards the summit of the winding path that led to the top of a slope. Thoth didn't seem to be doing well. Sometimes it took multiple tries to rouse her attention, and when I finally did she was slow to respond. Other times she was completely focused and unpleasant, the way she'd been at the camp that first evening. And it was vexing because it shouldn't have bothered me at all. Had news of her apparent poor state reached me in Whitefall, I might have thrown a feast. Perhaps declared a holiday celebrating the decline.
In person, it arguably should have been better. I should have been there, on the sidelines of the joust, waving my kerchief of favor for whatever plagued her, cheering the malady on.
Only I was robbed of that, because Thoth didn't like leaving loose ends. And I had a strong suspicion that once whatever was happening to her grew advanced enough that it threatened her survival, she would make sure I didn't survive her.
Again. It was vexing.
Suddenly, her foot slipped, whatever had given it purchase failing and sending her sprawling forward, face-first into the ashen slope. She caught herself at the last moment, limbs flailing, stopping herself before momentum could carry her all the way back down.
And she remained that way, huffing and puffing, as I reached where she was, my shadow hanging over her.
The scarf had fallen away, revealing the ugly infection once more, now caked with dirt.
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"Let me tend your injury." I groused.
"What? No." Thoth held a hand over it protectively.
"It will turn septic, and kill you, and once you realize that is happening you will in turn kill me, which I'd prefer to delay."
"Of course you would." She jeered. "Coward."
"What—for preferring not to die? You're the pariah in that regard—most folk generally share my sentiments on the matter."
"Always stalling. Always delaying the inevitable, even at exponential cost."
"Delaying the inevitable—" I gestured wildly to the wound on her chest, the surrounding hellscape, then gave up and threw my hands up. "Fuck this. Do as you please. Feel free. Truly. When the sepsis takes you, and your legs can no longer carry you forward, it will be a joy to watch your crippled form fade into the distance, shouting 'I-fucking-told-you-so' for as long as those stabby little ears can hear its echo."
Thoth blinked.
I waited a few more seconds, then left her there and resumed the climb.
"Stay."
A frigid chill went down my spine, as I slowly turned back around. The voice had sounded enough like an entirely different person that it'd startled. As if someone had snuck up on the two of us amid the argument and suddenly interjected. Part of me still believed that. Because even though it was a single word, it hadn't sounded like her at all.
Because it sounded afraid.
I closed my eyes and took several deep, steadying breaths. "The little knives left their mark. You dislike being operated on. Loathe it, even."
"Perhaps I dislike the idea of letting you near me with any sharp implement, considering what happened last time." She snapped back. But there was no animus in it.
I returned to where she'd fallen and was slowly pushing herself back up into a sitting position. Her movements were slow, aching.
"There've been better moments for an ambush." I finally said.
She thought about it, then shook her head. "I've ceded no opportunities."
For the most part she was right. With one glaring exception. "Less than a day ago. When you were stomping the spare's skull into the floorboards, utterly blinded by fury. It would have been child's play. To sneak up behind you and draw a blade across your throat."
"An attempt doomed to failure. Rage only heightens my senses."
"Perhaps. But I only know that because you've just now told me. There was nothing of the sort stopping me at the moment. Perhaps because there's still more I've yet to learn from you, or perhaps because I've seen firsthand how devastating the consequences of impulsivity can be."
Her expression grew crestfallen, eye losing focus. "Why are you so dead set on continuing? Pushing forward, when all is lost. Discovering the source of this is not the answer. No matter what you claim."
I checked around us once more. My mind's eye caught the billowing of a cloak at the summit of the slope and a flash of violet skin, before all faded to grey. I crouched beside her, ignoring my aching muscles. "I think in ordinary circumstances, I would want to move on. To just get it over with. After all, there's nothing left for us. Just the detritus of a puttering fire." I gripped my hands together tightly. "But... someone gave everything for me to be here. Sacrificed that which can never be returned. So until I've done everything that I can reasonably do... I have to keep moving forward."
"How saccharine. For such a mundane relinquishment to be given such deference." Thoth said, weak attempt at sarcasm losing impact a little as she winced in pain.
"You're such an ass." I chuckled, rubbing a bit of ash from my eye, once again turning my focus to the wound.
It was worse than I'd believed. Red streaks arced out from beneath the pale yellow surface, and the entire area was raised, possessing a sickly sheen. It could be treated, but we were on the tail end of that period. Any further progression would require healing magic, which I was fairly certain Thoth had but couldn't direct at herself.
At that point, the window would be fully closed.
Eventually, she shook her head. "Letting the sickness run its course would be better than what's coming."
"Where's the joy in that?" I dredged up a smile, though it felt terribly unnatural. "Whatever happened to the arch-mage hell-bent on torment above all. 'Cut his arms off, toss him down the stairs.' Come now. You've got an image to uphold."
The word echoed in my mind again, along with the forsakenness it invoked. Was it even possible? To feel so alone and isolated that you preferred the presence of your worst enemy to no one at all?
Still, if that was even fractionally right, it presented leverage. Because, right now, we were hurtling towards an endpoint. Reach the capital, poke around the remnants of the pyre, learn whatever there was to learn, and that was it. In addition, it was entirely possible she'd grow bored. Watching me wander around the remnants of my ruined life, searching for familiar faces, was probably less stimulating than the sort of wanton cruelty she was accustomed to. And if she lost interest, the end could sneak up on me quickly. Possibly before I had a chance to do anything about it.
I needed to sell a lie. More desperately than I'd ever needed anything else in my life.
Actors will tell you that performing is as much about meeting the audience's expectations as it is about competently delivering the material. You can wax poetic with the guile and seriousness of Tristan about how the sky is green—but all your efforts are pointless if they can simply look out the window and see it false.
But if you cover the window first—draw them in, play off their expectations—they'll believe you when you say it's nothing but blue, all the way down to the endless horizon. Even when thunder rumbles.
I untapped the stopper from my fears, my anxieties, everything I'd been forcefully shoving down since the world ended, waiting until a shiver passed through me.
I licked my lips and glanced towards the summit of the slope. "See this through with me. And once the capital has laid its secrets bare, we can go anywhere you want. To whatever ends."
Her gilded eye locked onto me, seeing all. "I thought you preferred the silence."
"That's... true." I admitted. There was no denying it. If I fabricated on that front she'd see through it in a heartbeat. "But you are... less grating... than expected. I understand now that our parting will be my end. And... whatever we find in the city... I don't want to die."
"Why?"
"Because." I forced my eyes shut and let the fears out. The fears of what would happen in the scenario that I failed. Squandered the gift I'd been given. My voice was rough, haggard. "I'm not ready. To accept that it was all for nothing. Every battle, every sacrifice... endless effort, and training, and sleepless nights, all meaningless in the face of this pointless fucking end. I can't accept it. I'm not ready. Not yet."
Mockery was the expected response.
None came.
I cracked an eye open and found her looking pointedly away from me, mouth tight.
"Are you lying now?"
I breathed a quiet laugh. "To what end?"
"I don't know. And that itself is bothersome." Thoth chewed her lip, then stood, swatting at her ash-strewn leathers. "Even if you somehow escaped, knowledge intact, it would be trivially easy to find you at the start of the next iteration. And do what I should have at the beginning of this one. There is no reason for falsehoods. Yet you always sound most honest when your mouth is full of deceit."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "There was half a world between us, and you still found me in less than a day. Running would be stupid beyond words."
"If there was mana to spare, I would take other measures. In lieu of that I can only watch. And make the judgment for myself."
A sigh escaped my lips as Thoth tightened the scarf around her wound. I'd lost. How could I not have—it would have likely been easier convincing a stone. Her infection would worsen, and when the symptoms grew more severe, and she felt herself slipping—
"Fine then. But not here. Out in the open, the debris carried by the wind alone would easily undo the effort of treatment." She looked around, withdrawn. "And as there appears to be a dearth of huts, ready to accommodate..."
"We'll be better suited once we reach the city." I agreed, relieved, and a little surprised.
We were close enough now that it wouldn't make much of a difference.
A half hour later we reached the summit of the slope.
And there, in the distance, was all that remained of Whitefall.