Alchimia Rex

The meet-tent was packed with humans, men one and all, but not equal. At the front of the gathering were men wearing the same leafy robes that some of the tribe maidens paraded around. Their hair was well groomed, washed, and clean, each of them at least a decade older than Rick, and looking far more comfortable here than anyone else in the room. Those were the humans that had willingly been a part of the tribe the longest.

Immediately behind them were younger males that were equally clean and groomed, but their clothes weren’t as well taken care of. They were the begrudging, those who were a part of the tribe but didn’t share their beliefs. They made up the bulk of the gathering.

Last were the slaves, the humans that had tried to run or escape when given the chance.

Rick only really needed to focus on the front row. They represented the part of the tribe that actually had a voice that would be heard. The men at the back might oppose anything he proposed, but so long as the front row was in line, the others would have no choice but to follow.

“I will keep this simple.” Rick stood on the podium, accompanied only by Yasir. “I will bond every enslaved maiden in the tribe.”

There was a wave of chuckles that began at the front of the gathering and moved its way to the back. Rick didn’t miss the hint of nervousness that became more apparent the further it moved through the audience.

“Are you serious?” One of the older men stepped forward.

“I am,” he replied. “And you will all help wake up the ferals from their curse. I will provide the collars for the task.” Rick turned his focus to the dozen men at the front. “I am also creating a position within the tribe, exclusive to humans. It will be called a representative for the time being.”

The term he’d originally thought of was ‘tamer’, but the word already had certain implications.

“The tribe has its normal meetings where the maidens voice their opinions. Up to five representatives will join these meetings. They will be the voice of the humans of the tribe, as well as the maidens bonded to them.” He took another step. “We will choose the representatives through human vote. As Father of the tribe, I am not a candidate, nor can I vote.”

Twelve humans with power, and only five positions. Rick held back the smile as he saw them sharing glances. As far as they were concerned, this was an incredible opportunity. The tribe had suppressed their voices, and this was as good a chance as any to speak up. But who would be the one to gain that power?

“There is a catch.” He raised his voice. “Your power as a voter will vary depending on how many maidens you have bonded.”

It was a simple equation. With Rick taking away every non-tribe maiden, the easiest way for them to gain voting power was through bonding the ferals.

“Just a word of warning.” Rick gestured at the bearded merchant at his side. “Yasir will mediate any conflicts or issues pertaining to this process. He too will abstain from being a candidate, but he can vote.”

One man in the front row stepped forward. “How will the vote happen?”

“You will each get a marked stone for every maiden bonded to you. There will be boxes representing each candidate, and you will distribute your stones into each box however you wish.” He raised his hand. “It is important to note that it will be private. Your vote will be secret.”

Rick would’ve preferred the ranked choice system, but many people here were illiterate. It would have to do for the time being. The important factor was anonymity. It granted a layer of safety to those further in the back. It represented a destabilizing factor. The power dynamics would shift ever so slightly away from the Orcs.

Hopefully that would make the tribe’s transition to civilization smoother.

“Oh, and anyone can be a candidate. You just need to talk to Yasir.” With a smile, he waved the room away. “The focus is to wake up as many ferals as possible. We need the headcount.”

Leaving Yasir to answer further questions and to organize everyone into the feral-awakening thing, he walked out the back of the tent. Dia and Urtha were waiting for him. The taller of the two held her iron club loftily, pretending to be paying attention to anything other than Dia.

Dia for her part was grinning.

“Where’s Monica?”

“Playing with the stalks,” Urtha snorted, nodding off to the side.

Rick ignored the gesture, focusing on the Orc instead. “You haven’t changed your hairstyle.” He commented idly, the Mohawk-like braid not having moved an inch from where he’d left it. “Are you sure you don’t want to try forming the bond?”

“It can wait.” She brusquely turned away with a growl, holding the weapon with a loose swing that matched her steps.

Rick suspected she had another day or two before the effects would be truly severe. Not bonding her would strain things with the rest of the tribe, undermining what little legitimacy he had. At least Monica could defend her position by squashing whoever reared their head and thought themselves a better fighter than her.

Near the center of the tribe, where the farm had once been, where Rick had nearly died days ago, was now a gathering of maidens. They wore rags, rope and chains and were kept tied and huddled. Doggirls and Mousegirls made up the bulk of the gathered maidens. Elves were the third largest demographic, and the rest were a mixed bag of at least a dozen different breeds. He even spotted a couple of Centaurs.

As far as Rick was concerned, this was a crowd with very sharp noses and sharper ears.

The important thing was that they were all traitors to the Kingdom. The maidens that had run away from slavery and ended up in just an unpleasant situation as they’d been before, if not worse.

“Listen up.” He stepped on the box that would make for his soap-box, his position next to Urtha drawing the crowd’s attention. “As of this moment, you will no longer be slaves.”

The massive Orc whirled to look at him, a scowl so deep there were canyons on her brow.

“You should’ve been there yesterday.” He told her offhandedly, keeping his focus on the crowd. “The tribe plans to head to Sinco. We will become a part of the city, whether or not they want us to. Some of you are familiar with the small mining city, and should understand what it would mean to have the tribe be a part of that.” His smile was devoid of warmth, drinking in the nods that were being shared. “You have two options. You can either leave this tribe, or you can become a part of it.”

He waited for a moment, watching them stir.

“Leaving is a death sentence. I will not pretend it is not. I do not care for those who leave.” He looked at the crowd. “Stay, and you will be expected to pull your own weight, and you will be protected from…”

Rick paused for a moment, looking at Urtha again, at her scowl and the way she glared at the crowd. He then glanced at Dia, the stoic pride of her stance, the way she squared off against the crowd, as if challenging them to do something about it.

“Fuck it.”

Hopping off of his improvised podium, he stepped towards the crowd. Rather than approach the closest maiden there, he sought the one that looked the most flippant. It was an Elf, with glimmering blue eyes and extremely short white hair, a maiden that he was certain was way older than the early twenties appeared to be.

“What’s your name?”

“Begonia.” She declared. “Sir.” She added, spitting at the ground.

“Well, Begonia, I want you to bond me. Is that acceptable?”

Her gaze was icy, her wrists held in front of her by hemp ropes. “Do what you wish.”

A good enough answer, Rick reached out and unclasped the black leather band around her throat. The maiden sucked in a sharp breath, glaring but unmoving. He knew the look in her eyes. He’d seen it before in his students after all, it was a look they’d give him when he asked to trust him. The look of someone who did not trust the system, and who saw Rick as a representative of that very same institution.

He wouldn’t try to dissuade them with words.

Rather than tie the collar back around her throat, he put a piece of brown leather. Murmurs spread all around them.

“Begonia.” He called her name, gesturing for her to kneel. “We will follow the way to form bonds we are most familiar with.”

There was one advantage the maidens of the Kingdom presented, and it was that they’d been taught since young how to form a bond quickly. A training that unfortunately didn’t carry over if they ever went feral.

“My name is Richard, and I am the Father of the tribe.” He reached out, touched the crown of her head as she knelt, following the same ritual he’d done with Dia. “Do you submit?”

The Elf’s shoulders tensed. She drew in a sharp breath, and then slowly let it out. “I do.” She whispered in dejection, and in that he could sense the surrender, a surrender he accepted without hesitation.

There was a jolt that ran through them both.

Just like that.

Rick waited for her to stand up. “Don’t move, please.” He reached for her throat and removed the brown collar. “Now follow me.”

She looked at him in confusion, caressing her naked throat.

“Did I stutter?”

The maiden jolted, scuffling forward, drawing the attention of the crowd. The other maidens were sharing confused looks, muttering but not speaking out loud. Rick ignored them, taking Begonia to a wide eyed Urtha.

“Remove her bindings.”

Not giving a chance for the Orc to complain, Rick hopped back on to the podium so that he could address the crowd once more.

“Those of you who wish to leave, you can walk away. The tribe will remove your bindings and will give you food and water for your collars. No one will stop you on the way out.” He gestured at the spot in front of his podium, a spot currently occupied by a wide eyed Elf that kept touching her throat. “Those of you who wish to become a part of the tribe, step forward, and I will set you free.”

There was a stir in the crowd.

The first to step forward was a Mousegirl, and once she’d squealed and declared she was still bonded, others followed. One by one, until Dia had to step in to make sure they moved in a line. While also arranging for the collars to be sent to the feral pens to quicken that part of the process.

Though focused on forming the bond with each one of them, Rick was more focused on the tribe. It didn’t take long for him to draw a crowd. Orcs mostly kept showing up to peek at the whole thing. Some were making bets on how many he’d bond before he hit the limit, others just stood and stared. But there was one group of green-skins that were there to look at Urtha.

The massive maiden that had held a severe glare had only grown more intense the longer the ceremony continued. It didn’t take long for the disbelief to become anger, and soon after she was stomping her way out of the gathering.

After two hours, he’d bonded most of the former slaves. There had been only three that had walked out.

Feeling like his head was about to explode through his cranium, Rick had the crowd dispersed while Dia used her literally magical fingers to ease the migraine away. “You’ve pushed yourself again.”

There was nothing chiding about her tone.

“Are you proud?” He asked, somewhat surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Only a noble could ever hope to bond this many maidens,” she whispered. “And being bonded to this many maidens will keep you better protected.”

Numbly, he nodded. “It’s… a weird sensation.”

The bonds were weak, and from his experience with Kiara and Eva, that meant he shouldn’t be able to feel much, even if he really focused on it. But there was this sensation of hope that was washing over him he knew wasn’t entirely his own. As if the collective emotions of so many maidens were making up for the weakness of the individual bonds themselves.

It was a concerning realization, but one he wasn’t even sure it was a problem he’d have to tackle. For him, the biggest issue was that the secret about bonding without collars was out, but that too was something future-Rick would have to tackle if a need for it ever arose.

“Question.” He leaned down, putting his head against her shoulder. “Is there some context I’ve missed in the interactions today?” He sighed. “Eva, mind pipping in?”

The Fledgling emerged from his shadow, the hidden bodyguard when none other was available. “The number of bonds alone would make you royalty in their eyes. Making a show of being able to bond without a collar places you a step above that.”

She spoke quickly, sternly. The tone had that forced cadence of military discipline that grated against Rick’s nerves, but that he wasn’t about to ask about since he had other things on his plate.

“You bonding them makes them stand above any station they could have dreamed of achieving.”

“A bubble that’ll pop eventually, I guess.” He sighed. “That leaves Urtha.”

Dia shook her head. “You humiliated her. It made it clear to the tribe that if there was any problem in forming the bond, it was her.”

“Eva, thoughts?”

“She is no longer our problem.”

Rick hesitated, then blinked. “What?”

“The tribe now knows of your importance. And that Urtha has not bonded you of her own accord.” The Fledgling fidgeted for a moment. “It is her turn to decide. She can either bond with you willingly, or cause a problem.”

Pondering on that statement, Rick agreed with the sentiment.

“And we can deal with her if she becomes a problem… I just hope it doesn’t come to that.” He nodded slightly, relaxing his shoulders and standing up. “Whatever the case, we get ready for the mess and wait for her move. For now, let’s focus on the ferals and the preparations for the celebration thing.”