David Niemitz
patreon
Guild Mage 309
🕑 Added 2025-11-25 14:51:34 +0000 UTCI know I've said this on RR and mentioned it on Discord, but it occured to me that since I'm not in the habit of writing notes on every Patreon chapter, I may not have said it here. I'll be taking Thursday off to do Thanksgiving stuff with my family, so no chapter on that day. I hope everyone who celebrates has a wonderful holiday.
Chapter 309: Veiketis
Liv’s eyes flicked to the open windows, through which the cool autumn air whistled in off the bay. While she herself didn’t find the temperature uncomfortable - since the Tomb of Celris, she was hardly ever bothered by cold, anymore - she was a bit surprised that Milisant was able to stand it. She was also surprised that there were no bars on the windows, but she supposed that if the princess had any magic which might allow her to fly, Caspian Loredon would have had them installed.
As it was, if Millie flung herself out the fourth-story window of the Seastone tower, the fall would solve a good deal of problems for everyone involved. Whether the archmagus was ruthless enough to think that was was an entirely separate question.
Kaija and Liv’s personal guards had quickly spread themselves around the room, taking up position along the curved outer walls of limestone brick. The fire guttered with every breeze from the windows, and even the thick drapes which hung around the bed stirred occasionally. Liv observed the thick carpets on the floor, the ornate vanity which must have been brought at the princess’s request, and the wardrobe in which her clothing had been stored. It was, compared to the cells and stockades in which Liv had been forced to hold prisoners of war, a remarkably luxurious cell.
Milisant herself was dressed in a linen shift, her pale hair unbound, and had clearly just been roused from her bed. She wore no makeup, no jewels or ornamentation, and no mark of her highborn position. She was also obviously older than when Liv had last seen her, though even at twenty-two she was still a young woman. The shift made it obvious how swollen her chest had become with milk, though Liv doubted a woman born to royalty would nurse her own child.
“I am told that you refused to answer questions until you spoke to me,” Liv began. She traced her thumb over the guildring on her left hand. Though she’d lost most of her contingent spells when her original wand was broken, she still maintained a simple defense that could be triggered by turning her ring, even after all these years. She also couldn’t imagine Milisant having the strength to batter through her Authority, but it never hurt to be careful.
Milisant nodded, her eyes skittering around the room nervously, settling for a moment on Keri, then on her great-uncle, and then skimming over the guards within her field of vision.
“And I presume, now that Queen Livara is here, you will be willing to answer our questions,” Caspian Loredon said. His voice was tired, and his frustration clearly audible. “Did you know that your grandmother worshipped Ractia?”
Liv glanced to the side, and met Keri’s eyes.
He nodded in return, and then his Authority spread out through the room. Liv couldn’t help but feel the tension in her shoulders relax, as she was folded up in the feeling of a warm summer day.
Caspian shot them a glance, and Keri explained. “I will use Bheuv to determine whether or not she is telling the truth.”
“I presume that, backed by your own Authority, it will be more reliable than those trinkets the Crosbies occasionally sell,” the archmagus grumbled. “Very well. Your demand has been met, Milisant. Answer the question.”
Despite the fact that the demand came from her great-uncle, the princess never took her eyes from Liv’s face while she spoke. “Not until the day that my father decided to invade Whitehill,” she said. “He agreed to move up my wedding to Bennet, and then grannie told me that she needed to talk to me. She took me to her rooms, and showed me an altar, and a cage full of rabbits. She told me to repeat the prayer she said, and then we each killed one of the rabbits. It wasn’t until I was repeating the words of her prayer that I found out which goddess we were making an offering to.”
“Truth,” Keri said.
“After you learned that your grandmother was a heretic,” Caspian Loredon continued, his face set, “did you participate in any further rites dedicated to Ractia?”
“Wait,” Liv broke in. “I’ve seen what Ractia’s bloodletters can do. Those sacrifices aren’t just empty ritual. What did you and the dowager ask her for, Milisant?”
“My prayer was to conceive,” Millie said, with a satisfied smirk. “How does that feel, Great-uncle Caspian? To know that you have the Great Mother to thank for your precious heir? Do you think the Temple of the Trinity will accept him? Or will you keep it a secret?”
“The boy is innocent of the sins of his mother,” the archmage growled. “And the dowager? Did she pray for the same thing, or was there some other dark purpose to her sacrifice?”
“She prayed for Beatrice Summersett to conceive,” Millie answered, meeting Liv’s eyes. “The idea was to take one of Whitehill’s mages out of the coming battle. To put her in bed, behind the front lines, so that she couldn’t fight us while we killed her family.”
Frost cracked the windowpanes, and a scattering of fat snowflakes blew in through the open windows, before Liv realized that she was clenching both her fists tightly.
“Are you going to tell her?” Milisant asked Liv. “Do you think it will change how she sees the baby? If every time she looks into those wide eyes she has to remember who she has to thank?” A wicked grin twisted the princess’s face into something horrible.
“Truth,” Keri said, breaking the silence. “About the purpose of the prayers. The rest is just her being monstrous and trying to cause as much pain as she possibly can.”
“You’ll never know,” Liv told Milisant. “Because this is the last time you and I will ever be meeting face to face.”
“Yes, I’m sure you can’t wait for me to be sent into exile,” Millie practically spat.
“You won’t be exiled,” Liv said. “By the terms of the peace, anyone found to be worshipping Ractia will be given to the priests of the Trinity. You’re going to be cast out of the church and burned. Had you forgotten?”
“The agreement was that the royal family, in particular, would go into exile,” Caspian argued. “That supersedes whatever other punishment cultists are subject to.”
“I wish you’d shown half as much concern for saving my life as you do hers, after everything she’s done,” Liv shot back. “Back to the questions. Did you ever pray to Ractia again? Sacrifice to her?” She knew the answer, because Wren had seen it happen, and told her, but she needed Caspian Loredon to hear it for himself, from Milisant’s own lips.
“Of course I did!” Millie practically cackled. “Every night and every morning, I prayed for the health of my child, and a safe delivery, just like my grandmother taught me to. Silently if I had to, out loud if I thought I was safe.”
“Truth,” Keri said, once again. His voice was like the tolling of a funeral bell.
Caspian reached his hand out for the only chair in the room, groping until he found it, and then settled heavily down. “Not even just once,” he muttered, his face ashen. “Once at your grandmother’s urging might have been forgiven. She led you into heresy. But over and over again? You seal your own fate with your words. I do not know how I can save you, Millie.”
“I’m not asking you to save me,” the princess snarled. “I can save myself. Veiketis.”
Liv felt the familiar Authority swelling, from deep inside Milisant’s body, before anything else happened - and if she hadn’t had that warning, she’d never have acted quickly enough. Her own Authority, already barely restrained, exploded outward in an instant, pushing Keri’s aside and tracing ice across the stone walls and floor, the carpets, the drapes hanging around the bed.
But at the same time, Millie’s body, beneath the thin white linen shift, swelled and deformed. Before the other woman could even get a scream out, before anyone could move to react, a twisting spear of blood, bone, iron and golden mana, all twined together like the vines of a rosebush, exploded out of the princess’s belly, aimed directly at Liv’s heart.
Liv was already flicking her thumb across the silver band of her guildring, spinning it on her finger, and an orb of Adamant Ice flashed into existence around her body, but the spear hit it and kept coming. She had just enough time to see the ice crack, and to feel the spray of frozen dust as the attack came on, pressing inexorably toward her and still moving terribly quickly.
She could already feel that, while her Authority was enough to resist Ractia’s terrible pressure, enough to fight back against the goddess, it was not going to be sufficient for Liv to turn aside the attack. Ractia’s murderous intent, left somehow to hide inside of Milisant’s body, was barrelling down on her, and Liv simply had no time.
Dāēmus Aiveh Æ’Orvis Merg Mæ Ser’Theles. She thought the words, rather than speak them aloud, because her lips and tongue would be too slow. Liv couldn’t even be certain the spell would work; while she and her cousin had been practicing in the mornings, she wasn’t confident with Dā yet.
Time froze around her.
The feeling, at least, was familiar, though instead of catching a handful of sand, glittering in the air, this time Liv found herself looking down at the horror of blood, bone, iron, and mana, twisted into a single sharp point, reaching out to connect Millie’s spasming body with her own. The very tip was pressing just up against Liv’s sternum, pressing in on the fabric of her gown, halted at the absolute last instant.
If she’d been able to move her own body while freezing the attack, that would have been the end of it. Liv could have ducked aside, even if she needed to use the enchanted boots she’d been given by Tej Mishra in Lendh ka Dakruim. But unfortunately, that wasn’t how the spell worked. Just like when Miina’s throat had been torn open atop the wall, Liv was going to have to wait for someone else to save her.
All she could do was watch as Milisant’s body convulsed.
For a moment, nearly everyone in the room was stunned into silence - everyone but Keri. Perhaps the word of perception had given him the slightest bit more time to react than Kaija and the guards, for he immediately raised both his hands and let loose two beams of brilliant light that connected with the princess and burned right through her chest and left arm. The lower half of the arm fell to the floor, cauterized both at the end and at the shoulder stump, while Liv found that she could actually see through the gaping hole in Millie’s chest, wide enough to pass a melon through.
The spell should have killed the other woman instantly.
Indeed, Milisant fell to the side, and Kaija, along with the guards who were all now charging forward, hesitated. The body bulged in half a dozen places, and then with a great tearing of both linen and skin, tendrils of bone and muscle, spraying viscera in every direction, ripped their way out of the princess’s body. A horrible wailing filled the room, and Liv realized that somehow, despite what Ractia had created from her flesh, Millie was still alive.
A lash of iron-toothed muscle and bone - perhaps once a spine - whipped at Kaija, who caught it on the blade of her sword. The lash quickly wrapped around again and again, catching not only the weapon, but also Kaija’s hand and forearm. As it pulled tight, the iron saw-teeth tore open her vambraces and bit into her very flesh, drawing both blood and a scream.
The captain of Liv’s guard, however, grit her teeth, and a wave of ice swelled up over the lash, freezing it in place. One of the other guards cut the spinal-lash at the base with a single downward stroke of a halberd, freeing Kaija enough to stagger backward, clutching her mangled, half-frozen arm. “Kill it!” Kaija shouted. “Don’t stop until nothing moves!”
Two other tendrils had caught a pair of Liv’s personal guards, ripping the leg off one man at the hip, and breaking the neck of the other as easily as a hangman’s noose. A fourth tendril had struck at Caspian Loredon, but the archmage had turned it aside with a mana shield that cracked, even as if held firm. A fifth had lashed at Keri, but he’d stepped aside as gracefully as he danced, then scorched it to ash with a single spell.
“No!” Caspian shouted. “We might still save her. This is Ractia’s doing, not hers!”
Keri showed no such hesitation. Blast after blast of brilliant white light linked his hands with first the tendrils, severing one after the other, leaving them blackened and smoking to twitch on the floor. As he carved away each threat, he advanced on the writhing pile of flesh and blood, cutting away anything that moved until Liv wondered just how much mana he had left.
The stink of opened bowels, blood, and every part of the body that was meant to stay inside, and never be exposed to the open air, filled the room. Liv couldn’t actually smell it, yet, but she could see the revolted faces of her guards flinch back away from the horror, and she’d spent enough time with chirurgeons and healers to know exactly what they were breathing in.
As flaps of skin and viscera burned away, Liv caught a glimpse of Millisant’s face, distorted but weeping, eyes somehow still open, mouth crying with agony.
She could admit to herself that she might have hesitated at the sight.
Keri simply placed both hands above what was left of the princess’s head, spread his fingers wide, and burned a column of brilliant light down into her until nothing was left but scorched stone. Then, he rounded on Caspian Loredon and grabbed the old man by his doublet.
“Can you get rid of that thing?” he demanded, pointing at the spear pressed to Liv’s chest with his left hand. “Can you save her?”
The archmagus’s face was wet with tears, and he didn’t seem able to look away from the scorched pile of human remains that had once been his grand-niece.
Keri swore in Vakansa, then turned back to Liv, crossing the room in only a few strides to stand at the very edge of the stasis bubble. “If I get Miina, can she help you?” he asked, before realizing that Liv couldn’t respond. “Blood and shadows. You -” he turned to one of the guards. “Go back to the palace and get her cousin. Go!”
The woman scrambled out of the room and down the stairs, while Keri paced back and forth. “I’m going to try to cut it away,” he said, after a moment.
“It won’t work,” Kaija grunted, from where one of the other guards was wrapping her hand and arm in bandages. Liv made a mental note to praise them for that kind of preparation, for carrying medical supplies with them, if she got out of this alive. “Nothing can go into or out of the bubble until she releases it. And once she releases it, that thing will go right through her chest. I’ve watched them practice it every morning.”
“We get healers, then,” Keri said, desperately. “She can hold long enough that we can get healers here, and then once she lets it down, they can keep her alive. You can hold it that long, can’t you, Liv?” He spun round to face her, looking right into her eyes, and Liv wished that she could talk, could move at all.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t offer him the slightest comfort, though at the pain in his eyes Liv wanted nothing but to clutch Keri in her arms and make everything better. She could see that he was staring down the possibility of her death, with nothing he could do to stop it from happening.
But what Liv did have was time to think.
She didn’t know if she could hold the stasis bubble until healers arrived, and she didn’t know whether the healers would be able to save her from a pierced heart. She also didn’t put it past Ractia for that spike of horror to have some secondary effect, once it got into her body. The goddess was vicious and utterly without mercy, and Liv had no intention of betting her own life on the hope that Ractia was also overconfident and stupid.
Liv could, maybe, conjure a thin pane of mana between the tip of the spike and her chest, the moment she let the bubble go. But it had already broken through adamant ice, and she wasn’t confident such a shield would actually save her. If she’d been able to figure out Genevieve’s trick, she might have been more confident, but that had been one of the things she’d wanted to pry out of Caspian while she was in Freeport.
Activating the boots took a physical motion to trigger the enchantment, and Liv doubted they would let her move fast enough, in any event. A silent cast of Dā, to instantly age all of the materials twisted together into this attack spell? She’d have to rust away iron, crumble bone to dust - but there was also that golden glow, and Liv was certain that part was made up of raw mana, because it looked just like what Genevieve had fought with. Could mana be aged enough to die? Aira thought so - but how long would that take? And did Liv even know the numbers she’d need? The word of recall - but she still had to speak it.
Liv considered and discarded one plan after another. She was dimly aware of Keri, Caspian, Kaija and the rest hurrying about the room, making whatever preparations they could for the moment she let time come rushing back in. It was infuriating that she had five words of power, and couldn’t think of a way out of this trap.
She cursed herself for being overconfident, for not taking greater precautions. Keri had warned her, hadn’t he? You are the person on whom our entire alliance hangs, Liv. There is no one else who can take your place. It will fall apart if something happens to you. At least Milisant had died knowing that she left a child behind - Liv wouldn’t even have that.
If she’d had the word of blood, or the magic of Wren’s people, she could have dissolved into blood. Even the dowager, with the Sherrard word, had managed to turn herself into a flock of birds. But none of Liv’s words -
If Liv could have smiled, she would have. Of course. She’d never done it, but Celris had, which meant it was possible. If it had been any other word of power, any but the one which had always come easiest to her, she would never have made the attempt.
Liv pulled herself out of her thoughts, and looked at everyone in the room one last time. Keri was telling her not to worry, that they’d get her out somehow. He really was sweet.
She let the stasis bubble fall apart, and for the first time, allowed herself to become the storm.
Comments
Killian Fuhrmann
Okay okay, I did wish for a liv chapter today so I have to live with the cliffhanger haha! Thank you for the chapter! Can't wait for Fridays chapter hehe. Have a great thanksgiving David!
Tarrim
Too close didn't believe she could speak it in time
Chris F
this is a cool scene but I wonder if Liv could have used her waystone tether to effectively teleport out of danger while still being frozen leaving the spear behind in the process
