Alchimia Rex

In the darkness's safety, Eva crouched, trying to use her body to conceal herself further out of sight. Her gaze could see through the shadows of the night without an issue, but so could the predator currently hunting her. Yet her current concern were her prey, animals mostly blind to the umbra, but with sharp noses and ears.

There was a shift in the wind, and the bush opposite to her rustled. Eva plunged into the shadows right as the boar set off in a mad dash for survival. What was it with these creatures and their uncanny ability to detect danger? The Fledgling pursued, cheap clothes snagging with thorns and low branches, pushing the dumb things out of the meadow and into the open field.

It would be there that she would have the definite advantage, and their fate would be sealed.

Her heart raced at the prospect of a meal, her mouth watered, nostrils catching the scent of fear and adrenaline. The shadows provided her cover and means to move faster, she was gaining on the animals, they split up and she only focused on the larger one, almost there, she was free, she just need to focus, to catch the dumb animal and-.

Eva’s face slammed against the tree.

“Dead.”

Monica let go.

The Fledgling whirled around, snarling as she clawed at empty air. The feline had vanished without a trace. She couldn’t even catch the scent of the Sabretooth, the singular thing lingering in the air that was out of place was the smell of the blood that dripped out of her broken lip.

She growled, swiping the drop from her lips with her thumb, the injury already gone.

Wait, the boars!

“Shit.”

Eva began to run after the animal, trying to regain the trail.

The edge of the meadow wasn’t too far off, the animal didn’t have many places to run to.

And yet, as far as she could see or smell, the thing was gone. It was like it had just up and vanished. Not giving up, Eva looked around, flaring out her power to scare the animal out of hiding, but only waking up some small birds that quickly flew off.

With fresh curses on her lips, she turned around to head back into the deeper areas. Perhaps she would get a better chance with-

Her feet were kicked out from under her, a massive paw slammed against her face, throwing her against the ground.

“Dead.”

Monica let go, stepping back.

This time, she didn’t vanish.

“Do you have to keep doing that!?” Eva snarled, fighting through the ringing ears, feeling her own body putting itself back together. “You haven’t even bothered to teach me how to hunt and you just keep attacking me!”

“If not survive, hunt fail.” She crossed her arms, snorting loudly.

“If you were hunting me, I’d be dead anyway.”

Eva didn’t bother to pretend otherwise. Monica was a mountain and she was but a pebble, looking up at the monster. She wasn’t even a challenge. With a frustrated growl, she held the sides of her head and grumbled. No, she wasn’t supposed to have come here to play some brute’s game.

“Eva stronger than pigs, Eva use shadow but pig cannot, Eva faster, Eva maybe smarter. But pig still survive.”

The Fledgling shot a withering glare, but said nothing. If she were better, the pigs wouldn’t have run away. She would’ve seen the incoming attack. “Pretty sure the boars wouldn’t survive against you.”

Monica yawned, shrugging. “Today Monica not catch five pigs.”

Truly? Eva perked up at the admission. “How did they escape?”

“Smart pigs.” Another easy shrug. The maiden drew a zigzag with her hand. “Used trees, found holes. Too annoying.”

It couldn’t have been that simple. She glanced at the feline, taking a moment to consider, something like a tree or a hole shouldn’t have been enough of a dissuasion, not against a Sabertooth.

The answer made itself apparent when they reached the edge of the meadow. There was a pile of dead animals waiting for them.

“Monica win.”

The damnable brute declared with a smirk, reaching into her pile and throwing one carcass at Eva. Though the Fledgling had the strength to catch it, she lacked the balance, falling over on her ass and looking down at the stinking hairy boar. There was only one injury on the animal, a clean circular hole at the underside of its skull. One that likely reached all the way to its brain. That was… odd. Eva would’ve expected the typical injuries: broken bones, or claws. Monica was exceedingly capable in both departments.

“How did you kill it?”

The feline pointed at Eva’s shadow. “Poke poke.” She then pointed at the backpack Eva had brought. “Give net?”

The Fledgling pulled out the bundle and felt herself cringe inwardly. Spinner-silk was quite expensive in this part of the world, the thread was both durable and light. Nobles would make tunics out of the thread and pay heaps of gold for it.

Yet when Monica had been offered clothes by the arachnid maiden, she instead asked for a net.

A net.

Made out of Spinner-silk.

So she could more easily carry dead animals about.

Evangeline just pushed the thought aside and focused on her meal, on the smell of blood and how her stomach demanded attention. Her fangs sharpened, and she bit into the animal’s corpse. The taste was dull, like a week old gruel. Compared to the richness and fullness of a maiden’s blood, this was bland, almost rancid.

But she needn’t worry about uncomfortable questions if she drank from a mindless animal.

“How do you handle it?” She spoke the question, glancing at the Sabertooth. “When there’s nothing else to eat and you…? No, never mind.”

She shook her head. It was a dumb question asked to the wrong person. Feralborn maidens were devoid of the social mores and morality of those born in civilization. They could kill, eat, and torture without constraint or hesitation.

“Rick does not like.” Monica shrugged. “If Monica have good food, why make Rick angry?”

“That’s… it? You only care because he might be angry?” Eva scowled. “Why? The bond only forces protection, not obedience, not empathy.”

The Sabertooth’s eyes turned upwards to the night sky. After a second, she sighed. “Sometimes Monica not strong. Weak, hungry, tired, hurt, angry, trapped. Then Rick help Monica.”

“Anyone could do that.”

“Would Eva help Monica? Eva before.”

Azure eyes peered into her red ones, and the Fledgling hesitated. It… was true that she would’ve dismissed the thought. A maiden like Monica, a Sabertooth, they were engines of murder. How many pages were dedicated to emphatize how dangerous the Tigress clans were to oppose? Of how deadly it would be to enter their forests? Of how many had lost their lives attempting to conquer that part of the kingdom?

Why would a stalwart, nigh invisible wall of muscle and power need anything they couldn’t just take? It was the reason even those that had been caught could never be forcefully bonded or turned.

“No.” She admitted.

Monica smirked, smug all over.

“Is that what it means to be a maiden?” Eva sighed, looking down at the animal corpse, wiping away the blood from her mouth.

The feline shrugged. “Monica is Monica.”

“No, not what I…” Slumping her shoulders, the Fledgling ran her fingers through her long hair. “To be a maiden, the purpose, the meaning of what you’re meant to do, to be.”

“Monica is Monica.” The maiden rolled her eyes, tail flicking in annoyance. “Dia is Dia. Eva is Eva.”

“You don’t understand the question.” A shake of the head. “I’m not sure why-”

“Monica is Monica.” She growled, stepping closer to the Fledgling, a sharp claw poking into the smaller one’s arm, drawing blood.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?”

The Sabertooth glared, poking her own shoulder with her claw, not leaving a scratch. “Hurt Eva but not hurt Monica. Eva is Eva. Monica is Monica.” The proclamation was as if it was the most obvious statement in the world.

Eva hated that to a point, it was. And she’d missed it. Whatever worked for Monica couldn’t necessarily work for her, because they weren’t the same. Still, she glared, rubbing at her shoulders as the regeneration kicked in, closing the wound. “You didn’t need to attack me to prove a point.”

Shaking her head, Monica lifted the net and walked off, not waiting for the Fledgling. It was a fast enough pace Eva had to jog just to keep up, the height difference was too extreme. “Where are we going now?”

“Follow.” Monica touched her nose. “Smell.”

There was nothing in the air save the blood of the massacred boars. Eva kept looking around, trying to figure out what the Sabertooth was following now. But aside from dried up tall grass and the casual tree, there was nothing that grabbed her attention. Maybe that was the point? Anything hiding out here would do their best to avoid drawing attention to itself. So she tried to spot anything out of place, anything that would be conveniently ignored at a first glance.

There was a shimmer in the air, one without light.

For a moment Eva had doubted her eyes, but when one particular bush appeared to change shape ever so slightly… “Is that it?”

Monica made a growling sound Eva was sure would’ve been chock-full of swear words had she actually bothered to vocalize it with understandable syllables. The feline dropped the loaded net exactly at the same time five figures shot from the bush in five different directions. The feline hesitated for a split second, leaping for the one heading in a leftmost direction.

Her claws went through air, the shadowy silhouette vanishing.

An illusion of some sort? Eva chose not to pursue, staying with the pile of dead hogs instead. The Fledgling idly wondered what sort of feral this was, ones able to cast illusions weren’t common, not after the nobles in the capital had put excessively big bounties for the capture of such ferals.

The nobles of the capital and their craving for amusement had-.

Eva jumped forward. She wasn’t sure why, at least not until she spotted the clawed hands that swiped at the air where she’d been moments ago. Two golden eyes glared at her, a snarl full of wicked sharp teeth and a creature larger than Monica. How had it even gotten this close!?

The monster swiped at the Fledgling, and she lunged out of the way. Her brain whirled through a panicked dozen options. Jumping into the shadows, she got herself as far away as she could from the feral, trying to at least give herself the space to understand what she was looking at. Depending on the feral, running away might be entirely better than buying time for Monica to return.

Yet when she pulled out of the darkness, heaving and gasping for air, there was no monster to be found. In its place were three maidens opening up the net and pulling out the carcasses. “HEY!”

Eva charged, and the trio turned to look at her, eyes gaining a deep pink glow.

The monster was back, taller than anyone Eva had seen and-.

And it was gone when she charged through the thing, lunging at the thieves. She didn’t manage to hit anything, but they made a run for it. The Fledgling gave chase, running with-

Her back exploded in pain, stumbling, head ringing loudly. Another strike followed the moment of disorientation, claws digging into her flank. She kicked and punched, trying to hit whatever was attacking her, but touched nothing but air. It was an illusion again. The ferals were there but invisible to her senses.

But what kind of ferals were they? She tried to hit the air again, looking for a possible target. Had they run off? The strike that dug into her shoulder said otherwise. Eva screamed, kicking and flinging his fists wildly. Whatever was attacking her was fast, or at least agile enough to avoid the blows.

How would one counter an illusion like this?

When they’d been far enough…

Ah.

Eva crouched low, sinking into her own shadow. Rather than move, she emerged at the same spot, seeing the three ferals spreading out in search for where their prey had escaped. Psychics. They weren’t casting real illusions; they were tricking Eva’s brain to think there was something else there. Her body screamed as the claws wracked down her back.

Psychic illusions, only able to attack with claws and fang, working as a pack…

Plunging back into the shadow, Eva held her breath, trying to peer out of the murky darkness that surrounded her. But the blackness didn’t give her anything. Only once she came out could she vaguely identify the shapes that caught up with her. The Fledgling raised her arms, blunting some of the blows. Why were they attacking and not running away!?

With a scream, Eva pushed whatever she could grasp of her energy outwards, releasing it in a wave. The attack itself didn’t do much, it only startled her foes. And it was enough for one of them to falter. Grasping the creature with an iron grip, the Fledgling yanked her closer and bit down.

The feral screamed, and her sisters attacked. Eva didn’t let go, she couldn’t afford to. She’d tasted blood, satiating her growing hunger, speeding up the healing from the blows she got from the others. There was something off about the taste, but she wasn’t about to care or worry, drinking her fill and identifying her attackers.

Foxgirls? Those were rare in the plains, more frequently found in forests where they had many more places to hide. Considered smart for someone under the feral curse. They must’ve been part of the wave, left behind or splintered off. The ferals lunged, Eva placed their companion in the way.

She realized it’d been an illusion a moment too late. Her two attackers savagely tore at her flanks. Eva released another pulse of dark energy, but neither was surprised. It only caused the illusion to flicker out for a split second.

Where was Monica!?

No time to ask herself that. She let out another pulse and lunged. The flicker in the illusion made the feral’s attack falter. The two avoided the risk of being caught like their sister had. It gave Eva the chance to go on the offensive, another push of energy. It almost knocked the wind out of her, but this one was stronger than the last, barely enough to startle.

A precious split second that gave her all the advantage she needed.

Another victim.

The Fledgling fed, even as the feral thrashed and bit and clawed and screamed. Eva’s nearly empty reserves replenished with every gulp. Some part of her felt off, she’d drank too much, her stomach must be full. But the rest of her didn’t care nor was it preoccupied, her life was on the line.

Her gaze fixated on the final feral, the last victim. All she had to do was get a hold of her and she’d win.

“Dead.”

Monica’s single word startled Eva. She whipped around. The Sabertooth was looming over her, holding something in her claw. A feral, this one larger than the others, body caked in mud, head tilted in an unnatural angle from a broken neck.

It took Eva half a second to notice what was wrong.

She looked down at her arms and found a dead boar rather than the dead feral. She glanced at the other corpses, animals. Her stomach complained, exhaustion slapping her across the face like a hammer. The Fledgling fell on her ass, blinking, trying to make sense.

“But… the ferals.”

“One.” Monica shook the corpse, throwing it at the ground. “Only this. Annoying, complicated, smart, tricky.”

Eva glanced at the corpse.

Where the typical Foxgirl would look much like a Doggirl, this one had multiple tails instead. It must have shifted into a stronger form. That connected the final dot. She could imagine it. How the creature had created several layers of illusions, smart enough to trick Eva into thinking she had the upper hand, even as the Fledgling exhausted herself against invisible foes. Worst of all was how thorough it had been, even making her feel like she’d been able to replenish energy.

Monica was right, she would’ve died.

Trying to be rid of the sense of annoyance and failure, Eva looked at the corpse with a glare. A rare breed that had shifted to a stronger form. Anyone having caught such a maiden would’ve gotten a handsome reward.

But…

It was something else that caught Eva’s attention, several things. “She has no scars.” That must mean the shift was recent, very recent. Had the feral wave reached its final stages? That wasn’t a good sign. Ferals, driven by desperation and hunger, would fight each other. That would push the stronger ones into a shift, making them deadlier and better prepared for a fight… or a hunt.

There were other things about the corpse that felt out of place, like the amount of vegetation weaved into her hair, or how the body appeared slightly bulked up. But the Fledgling couldn’t find what she was looking for. The enemy had outsmarted her, played with her every step of the way, and had nearly ended her.

“How did you see through the illusion?” Eva glanced at Monica.

“Follow smell.” She shrugged nonchalantly, then poked at her stomach. “Follow special heart.”

“That’s… nevermind.” Eva’s shoulders slumped. “Could we go back? I’m exhausted.”

Monica’s only response was to shrug, picking up the bloodied net, throwing in the couple dead hogs that had slipped out, and walking off. Eva grabbed her own meal and chased after. Neither maiden spoke much more, and the Fledgling had far too many things to think about.

The hours stretched on, the starry sky above slipping by as they approached the tribe.

The guards greeted them with cheers, Monica showed off the amount of prey she’d captured, and that gave Eva ample room to slip by without being bothered. At this late hour, the tribe was mostly quiet and still. Any activity was mostly kept to the huts, small smoldering fires burning away, small groups chatting, laughing, and playing minor games of chance.

As she moved through the tribe, something caught her ear. A moan, long and low. Eva glanced in the general direction of the source, gaze turning into a glare when she recognized the hut in question.

“Not going to stop and say hello?”

The voice came from above. Eva’s mood soured further, gritting her teeth. “What do you want, Succubus?”

“No need to get rattled.” Kiara smirked from on high, floating overhead like a storm-cloud threatening a downpour. “It just looked like you’d want to join the brooding group.”

With a lazy flick of her tail, the Succubus pointed at a lone figure standing nearby, trying to remain hidden in the shadows though failing considering her massive size. It was Urtha, the Orc glaring daggers at the hut, giant metal club at her side, still as a statue as she carefully stroked the metal length of her weapon.

“Leave me alone.”

The maiden raised her hands, chuckling. “You might be able to help.” She replied. “You know, what with you and the Orc having common grounds on denying your own desires to the point of self-destruction?”

“What do you…?” Eva snapped her mouth shut, glaring. “I do not have the patience or energy to deal with you. I don’t think I ever will.”

“Before, I only saw you as a quick meal, nothing personal.” She licked her lips slowly. “But apparently you’re a step above that. Tis the word of the Orc King, you've been given the gift to be able to say 'no' to this but humble maiden.” She touched the center of her chest. “I swear on my little black heart.”

“No. Forever and ever, until you turn to dust.”

Kiara laughed, that loathsome, sharp and humiliating laughter that stabbed into Eva like a knife. “I was serious about the Orc offer. She’s been causing Rick some trouble. I would help, but she’s a bit too hostile to someone as strong as me,” she purred.

The words made the Fledgling flinch. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Rick intends to find out how many maidens he can bond in quick order.”

Eva’s steps slowed, her brows furrowed. “What does that have to do with me?”

“I thought that, as the local expert on bonds and bonding collars, you might wish to be informed.”

Her blood froze at the declaration. The Fledgling whirled around, looking at the Succubus through narrowed eyes. “I do not know where you got that information, but you are mistaken.”

Kiara’s golden eyes twinkled. There was mischief in that gaze… and a threat. “You might not be who you were a year ago, but you still know what you did back then.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, smile turning frigid. “So I want to know if this is something that will put him at risk.”

Eva tried to refute, but stopped, huffed, and shook her head. “No, it won’t.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there.”

“There are a lot of unknowns about him.” The maiden tapped her neck. “But if he can bond a maiden while she wears one of these, and neither the bond nor the collar breaks, then it is safe.”

There was a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief, a sagging in the Succubus’ posture and a relaxation to the way she held herself. With a simple nod, she quietly turned to leave. Eva couldn’t help but shudder, unsure whether being on friendly terms with the charmer was an even worse prospect than being her enemy.