Realm of Monsters - Chapter 603: Final Chance
Chapter 603: Final Chance
“And you have no idea where she is?” asked Ingrid in a calm voice, but her brisk walk betrayed her frustration.
“I already told you, no,” replied Aric in exasperation as he tried to keep up in his wheelchair. “The last time I saw Freya was yesterday at the funeral, same as everyone else. Actually, you said you spoke with her in the gardens. So you were the last person that saw her.”
“No. A guard saw her sneaking out through one of the manor’s posterns.”
Aric grimaced, “Yeah, she used to sneak out a lot when she was younger. The guard probably didn’t think much of it.”
“I know. Just because I live in Frost Rim does not mean I do not still have eyes in this city. I had a few of my own trail her wherever she went. The problem is they lost her when she slipped into the Commoner District. It seems the Sylvan goblins have taken over much of the district and do not take kindly to those who hide in the dark.”
“I didn’t know the Sylvan were so entrenched in the District.”
Ingrid clicked her tongue. “I do not care about what you do not know. What I want to know is where she would go. Are there any places she mentioned she liked to frequent in the Commoner District? Perhaps a commoner friend from school?”
“Freya is proud of her noble blood, she wouldn’t spend her time with commoners. I can’t imagine why she’d even want to step foot into those dirty streets.”
“Your sister fought in those streets to protect you and the rest of the patients in the medical encampment. You really think someone like that wouldn’t care about a single commoner?”
“That’s…”
“You clearly do not know your sister as well as you think you do.” Ingrid sighed and held her hand to her brow, “I need a drink.”
Just then a maid came rushing into the hall, breathless. “My lady, there is a guest—”
“Whoever it is, they can wait. Fetch me a drink,” Ingrid waved her off.
The maid opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it. She bowed and scurried away.
Ingrid turned and headed into the terrace. Aric followed after her, rolling his wheelchair past the bump on the door leading outside. He tried to keep the exhaustion from his face, but sweat still coated his brow and the edges of his golden hair. He was still getting accustomed to rolling the wheelchair. A pair of his best enchanters were working on a model that would roll itself with the use of magestones, but that project was still a ways away from completion.
“Why does it matter where Freya is? Why do you need her anyway? The vote won’t happen until tomorrow. Besides, I’m sure she is fine, she has Oginum, doesn’t she?” said Aric.
Ingrid glared at him, “That is exactly the problem. What if something happens to her? What if Oginum falls into the wrong hands? What if—?” Ingrid paused as her eye caught the sign of movement in the corner of her vision. She turned and spotted her niece sitting at a table on the corner of the terrace, sipping tea with a stranger who had their back turned to Ingrid and Aric.
“Freya?” asked Ingrid, relieved. “Where have you been? We were worried sick!”
Freya took one last sip, before putting her tea cup down. “Aunt Ingrid,” she spoke in a leveled voice.
“Is that all you have to say?” Ingrid crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “You are the daughter of a Ruling House, you cannot just sneak out in the middle of the night without telling anyone.”
“…Forgive me. I was catching up with a friend,” Freya gestured to the guest sitting across from her.
In a languid manner, Stryg turned in his chair, his arm draped across the chair. He took in Aric and Ingrid with his lilac eyes, assessing them in silence.
Ingrid had never seen him before but she recognized him from the stories that were circulating amongst the nobility like a blaze growing by each passing day. She placed her hand over her chest and made a small, polite bow. “Lord Veres, it is a pleasure to meet you. I was not aware you were coming.”
“The pleasure is also mine,” Aric added hurriedly. “I am Lord Goldelm.” He wheeled over and reached out his hand, but Stryg didn’t take it. In fact, he said nothing and sipped his tea.
After a moment, Aric’s expression faltered and he lowered his hand, confused. “I’m, uh, not sure what my sister may have told you, but I hope you and I can have a fresh, untainted start.”
Ingrid stepped forward. “Speaking of starts, how do you and my niece know each other? From what I’ve heard, you and Freya had a somewhat rough encounter back at the academy. You almost beat her half to death, no? Not the sort of relationship I’d call friends.”
“It wasn’t the— greatest of first meetings,” Freya admitted. “But House Veres and House Goldelm have been friends for a thousand years. I don’t think a single mock duel could ever break such a long-standing relationship.”
“So you knew he was a Veres all this time? And you said nothing?” asked Ingrid.
“I was not aware, per se. Let’s just call it fate,” Freya said.
“Fate?” Ingrid cocked an eyebrow.
“I despised Freya when we first met,” Stryg broke his silence. “She insulted my people, a slight I do not take lightly. …Then I got to know her and I saw her warrior’s heart; a bravery so many boast to have, but so few carry.”
“Is that right?” asked Ingrid.
He nodded. “Freya Goldelm has earned my respect and a place in my tribe.”
“Your tribe?” asked Ingrid.
“Stryg is a Sylvan,” Freya quickly explained. “He belongs to two tribes actually. He was born to the Blood Fang Tribe and he is the chieftain of the Ebon Tribe; I am part of the latter.”
“Hm,” Ingrid smiled forcefully. “How nice. I am glad to hear the next generations of Goldelm and Veres are carrying on well. Now, to what do we owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”
“We were just discussing the succession of our House’s leadership,” replied Freya in his stead.
Ingrid looked down and tried to hide her impressed grin. “Freya, please do not tell me you brought Lord Veres over in order to try and intimidate me. I mean, it’s shrewd of you, really, but hardly appropriate. We are a Ruling House, just like the Veres, and we will not be intimidated by anyone. My vote is final.”
“He is not here to change your vote. I understand that you have chosen my brother as the rightful successor,” Freya glanced at Aric, “And I have no intention of going against it. Aric will make a good lord.”
Aric stared at her, genuinely surprised, a look of appreciation clear in his eyes.
“Then what is all of this?” asked Ingrid.
“Stryg has invited me to spend some time with him in Vulture Woods.”
“Has he now?”
“After my first encounter with Stryg, I realized how wrong I was about the Sylvan and how little I truly knew about them. Ever since, I have wanted to get to know them better. Now that I must leave Hollow Shade, I think this is the perfect opportunity.”
“Opportunity for what exactly?”
“To live among the Sylvan of course. Five years, wasn’t it? That was the minimum time I had to stay away from Hollow Shade? Let Aric establish himself in the city, right?”
“The plan is for you to come with me to our family’s ancestral home in Frost Rim.”
“Change of plans,” replied Freya nonchalantly.
Ingrid’s eyebrow twitched. “Excuse me?”
“The point of the plan was to stay away from Hollow Shade. I will do just that. And in the meantime, I will strengthen our House’s relationship with the Sylvan Tribes. A win-win, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I have much to teach you back in Frost Rim—”
“Stryg has already made arrangements with the Lunar Elects; they’re essentially the Ruling Lords of the Sylvan. It’s done. I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?”
“The Sylvan folk don’t like to waste time. They’re eager to learn about me just as much as I am about them.”
“Your training as a mage and a merchant queen has only just begun. You cannot ignore it to go play in the woods,” said Ingrid with an edge to her voice.
“Is that what you think we do in the most deadly forest in all the Null Realms? Play?” Stryg sipped his tea.
“I meant no offense,” Ingrid said, her voice serene once more. “I am simply having a very important conversation with my niece about her future.”
“You can always train me when I get back. I’m sure we’ll have time.” Freya smiled.
“At least let me send a retinue of extra guards to escort you during your stay at Vulture Woods, I’ll feel more at ease knowing you have strong, reliable dwarves near you,” said Ingrid.
“I appreciate it, but there is really no need. The Lunar Elects have offered some of their best warriors to guard me during my stay. Stryg tells me it would be a great disrespect to decline their protection.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t have an extra layer of protection. I have brought some of the greatest battle mages with me from Frost Rim. They will guard you with their lives.”
“The invitation was for Freya alone. The Elects were willing to make an exception for her, not any other dwarf,” said Stryg.
“Well, that’s too bad for them. My niece is a daughter of a Ruling House, she will not go into the most deadly forest in the world alone,” said Ingrid.
“She will not be alone. My people will protect her just fine,” said Stryg.
“And what if they turn on her? What if they decide they don’t like having a dwarf in their lands? What then?”
“That’s why I’ll be taking Oginum with me,” said Freya.
Ingrid shook her head. “Are you daft, girl? You can’t take Oginum with you. What if you lose it? We can’t afford to have a repeat of Krikolm.”
“I’ll be fine.” Freya hefted the golden hammer. “Unlike you, I can actually wield it.”
Ingrid shifted her feet at Freya’s words, then took a deep breath, “That hammer is a symbol of Goldelm’s power. It must stay with your brother.”
“He’ll have it once I’m back. I’ll hold onto it until then,” said Freya.
Ingrid narrowed her eyes, “I’m afraid I must insist.”
“I think it’s fine,” said Aric. “Freya is right. She’ll make better use of it than I ever could.” He gestured to his crippled legs. “The Sylvan will respect House Goldelm more if they witness Oginum’s power firsthand. She can bring back the hammer when she returns—”
Ingrid shot a glare at Aric that silenced him. “You underestimate the importance of Oginum and the need to keep it safe. It is not just some ‘hammer.’ Oginum is staying here in the city.” She glanced at her niece and nephew, “Do I make myself clear?”
Freya stared at her. “…Does Aric know?” she whispered anxiously.
“Speak up, child,” said Ingrid.
“Was he part of your plan?”
“What are you talking about?” asked Ingrid.
Aric glanced at the two of them, confused, “What’s going on?”
“Did he know?” asked Freya.
“Know what?” said Ingrid flatly. “Stop with all this incessant ambiguity and speak plainly.”
Freya swallowed the lump in her throat and met her aunt’s gaze. “Did he know you’re going to kill me?”
“Huh?” Aric frowned.
Ingrid scoffed with a laugh. “You truly are an idiot, girl, if you think I would want to kill you. You are the first true wielder of Oginum in over two centuries. Why in all the bloody Realms would I—”
“I know about your plans. Stryg had the Gales capture one of the assassins you hired. We had a purple mage scour their mind,” bluffed Freya.
Ingrid stopped, her expression changing rapidly as her mind cycled through a silent list of names. She froze as a name settled into place. Suddenly, her eyes flickered to Stryg and his free hand hovering closely by Krikolm’s hilt. “Guards!” she screamed.
Stryg drew Krikolm, the scarlet blade flashing brilliantly in the light of the setting sun.
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