Alysia Goldenseal, ch.3
Jan. 8th, 2025 04:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shaker_e"I suppose I should be honored by a visit from the kingdom's very own war devil. Come in, bloody one." The old woman didn't sound the least bit surprised to see Armes' massive frame filling her doorway, nor the least bit intimidated. "Get in before you let out all of the warm." The knight ducked into the cottage, shutting the door behind herself, and looked about warily as she drew back her hood.
The hovel was a single room, built around a rough stone chimney and hearth where a fire burned brightly, casting dancing shadows throughout. Wind whistled through gaps in the shutters, bringing the night's chill and the sound of rattling leaves and branches, the groan of he forest's trees swaying. The old woman was busying herself, hanging a black scorched kettle above the fire, picking through dozens of jars before settling on one with a nod, casting a few leaves into a earthenware cup. "Though I don't know what you expect a simple old woman like me to do for you," she added, watching Armes with sharp eyes. "Have you come to take taxes?"
"You are the witch Loemma." It was not a question. "You are a fugitive from the King's justice, for crimes against the crown and it's citizens. For the murder of children." The knight's voice was hard, but she didn't draw her blade, instead kneeling down and opening her pack. "But that isn't why I've come. The King's very own Magister spoke highly of your knowledge in arcane subjects."
The old woman's expression of indignant protest melted at the praise, and she grinned, revealing sharp teeth that gleamed in the light. "Ah, did he now? A miserable fool, but wise enough to know his betters!" she crowed, laughing like a rusty hinge. "So then! You come in need of my knowledge, my power, Armes Albrecht? To chase away the ghosts that haunt you at night? Something to quiet all of the screams of the dying?"
"I sleep well enough. You'll see why we've come momentarily. Myself, and the Princess." And she gently withdrew the Princess's small form from the bag, setting her on the table to face the witch. The bear gazed about the cottage for a moment, taking in her surroundings, and dusted her little toy paws off on her gown before dipping her head in courteous acknowledgement.
"Throw me in the Rot! What have you brought me?"
"Magister Orfeo was of the opinion that one who placed curses so deftly would surely have vast knowledge of their breaking as well," Alysia said in her small voice, the wide eyed witch drawing nearer in gleeful wonder. "If you know a means to undo the curse placed on me, I, Alysia Goldenseal, am empowered to offer a pardon for your... *previous acts*." The toy face was marvelously expressive, twisting as though she had a foul taste in her mouth as she spoke those words. "On the condition that if you commit any further crimes, you would face the immediate justice of the Crown." She spoke with the formal tone and cadence she would have used in her father's court, mustering as much dignity as her current state would allow. Being a plush toy only a foot or so tall didn't allow much.
Loemma snatched Alysia from the tabletop, making a contorted gesture at the same time with her free hand - as quick as Armes was, the witch was quicker. From the knight's perspective, the world seemed to swim and turn around her, and now "down" didn't go towards the earth - instead she fell backwards, her back crashing into the stone wall of the hovel, each of her limbs seeming to weigh dozens of stones. Her vision sparkled and she reeled with the impact. "Be still," Loemma scolded, sniffing as she turned the princess around, upside down. Alysia fussed and struggled, but the old woman's grip was harder than iron. "By the Pit, you truly are her, aren't you? There's a spirit in there, a shiny little soul. Bound tight. Fairy work." She held the bear up to her face, ignoring the way Alysia recoiled. No, not ignoring - she clearly enjoyed it, smirking. "Insulted some queen bitch of the realm Fae, did you? Needed to be taught a lesson, toy?"
"Y- That is correct. I was... not courteous." Alysia squirmed, and gasped as she saw Armes, who was struggling to breath under the magical weight crushing her in place. "Release my retainer! She will die!"
"Oh, that she will. I'll release her, by the Pit." Loemma sneered, and her hand twisted unnaturally in another painful gesture, which made Armes roar in agony, struggling briefly before sagging and falling to the ground in a heap. Her eye stared sightlessly at nothing. Alysia shrieked and flailed in the witch's iron grasp. "The only release that suits one of her sort. Now, as for you. Let's get you sorted." She hummed a cheerful tune, crowing to herself with laughter every now and then when one of the princess's sobs was particularly amusing. She spat onto a roughly human shaped doll made of knoted straw, and then breathed into it's featureless face for a moment, before carelessly throwing the bundle into a glass jar, which was in turn placed in a cage of sticks and wire. "I bet that halfwit Orfeo thought this was a transformation, and thought it might be unraveled. It's simpler than that," she murmured, absorbed as she drew a precise diagram around the cage with a lump of red chalk. A series of nested shapes, wormed throughout with writing that Alysia couldn't read, but felt as though she should understand - like a half-recognized form seen in an unlit room. "The faefilth drew your spirit out, and... pop. Threw it into another shell. I bet your body is decorating some fairylord's bedchamber now, or they stuffed an imp into your skin and are using it for a housemaid." Her musings were lost on the weeping princess, who was uselessly reaching for Armes.
"In any case. It's simple enough. I simply- " Alysia screamed briefly as she felt herself suddenly ripped from her form, the the pain was replaced with a cold non-sensation. A void. And then, suddenly... she was in a chamber made of dirty glass, resting on.. a straw mattress. No, not a mattress - a mannequin made of straw, as big as a person. She couldn't feel, but she could see and perceive. She was in the jar. The witch towered above her, laughing and tossing the little toy bear that used to house Alysia about before discarding it. She seemed woven all throughout with strings of light. "All better, Alysia Goldenseal?! Everything you could have asked for?!" Her massive face drew near, steaming the glass with her breath. "I'm sure I can find *some manner* of use for a shiny little royal soul... Or sell it to some prince of the Pit to dine on, perhaps!"
Alysia wailed, the sound making the glass reverberate around her shapeless form - she seemed to be nothing but a willow-wisp, a light in the glass. The world around her looked wrong, and strange - tangles of luminous threads connecting everything, both present and not present at the same time. Some even connected to her. She followed one with her "gaze", and saw it ran directly the stuffed bear she had inhabited. She felt a sudden urge to tug, and reached out with... with what, she had no idea - reached out and tugged the thread. The bear jerked slightly on the dirt floor, unnnoticed. The princess experienced a sense of vertigo, of being in two places at once - simultaneously in the jar and in the bear again. She released the thread and instantly was alone in her glass prison. She tugged the threads running to the straw doll, and similarly found herself within and without it. Alysia went silent. She would have held her breath, if she could breath at all. She looked in the direction of Armes, and saw that even in death, the threads of light still wove throughout her knight. They were fading, however. She reached across the distance - still not entirely sure what she reached with, or how - and grasped the thickest bundle. She held lightly, and understanding dawned. This rope, seeming to her tiny form as thick as a treetrunk. Strumming a chord on the bundle, the knight's stilled heart twitched and jolted. Alysia quickly began to work.
Loemma ignored the corpse and the foolish soul in the jar as she danced around her home, making plans, making great plans. With the power this could potentially grant her, why, she could topple the kingdom - she could topple it in an afternoon, for a lark! Ah, she could laugh, she could sing! What a day, for this opportunity to come walking into her very own front door. She was beginning to pour quicksilver into her scrying dish when the sound of breaking glass caused her to whirl around. The cage had toppled, and rolled to the floor, the jar broken. She snarled a curse, rushing over to catch the spirit before it could dissipate, but it was already gone. "Fucking hells and-" She stopped as the wood near her fireplace clattered to the floor, and looking around, realized the bear was gone. "You clever little *beast*!" she cried. "Too clever by half! I should have put you in a cold iron box, instead." She followed the little scuffed prints through the dust and ash, past the fireplace, and snatched with hands as quick as whip, pulling the filth-streaked bear out from the cabinet she'd hidden beneath. "Did you think you could hide, fool?"
"No, please! I - I promise! All will be forgiven, if you simply release me! Please! Un-unless... you refuse...?" The witch relished her pleading, and grinned her evil grin, sharp teeth seeming ready to bite.
"I refuse your *gracious* offer." Loemma answered, sneering gleefully.
"Then in the name of the King, die," answered the hoarse voice of the knight. Her massive blade, broader than a hand, erupted from Loemma's chest, the thick arm of Armes Albrecht wrapping around the woman's shoulders from behind for leverage as she drove it deeper, till it projected a full arm's length directly from her breastbone. She coughed and gurgled blood, wide eyed with disbelief, but no last curse or insult followed. She simply collapsed bonelessly to the floor, rattling a final breath. Armes let her down, but carefully caught the princess into her arms as she did, stepping away from the corpse without a backwards glance, gathering their belongings and carrying Alysia out of the accursed place, out into the wind and the night.
-------
Months later found Armes traveling in a loose caravan of pilgrims journeying to the temples of the capital, who kept their distance from the warrior - the ones who knew her reputation especially. Armes rode a nameless horse, traveling in silence, eyes vigilant and hand resting on her belted sword's pommel while the other held the reins. The dark skinned young woman riding beside her sat stiffly in the saddle, dressed in traveling clothes of fine quality, carrying a stuffed bear dressed as her twin in her lap. Her expression was a tranquil mask, never changing, though her eyes were active and keen. Her joints creaked in a strangely wooden way as she held up a hand and indicated something to the knight, who leaned close to speak. None of the pilgrims had ever seen the young lady part from the bear - some spoiled nobleman's daughter, for certain. Likewise none had seen her eat out of the privacy of her tent, and she only spoke from behind her raised hand or a fan - "The young Lady is shy," was the only explanation Armes would offer the procession's leader.
"She so resembles her Majesty the Princess."
The hovel was a single room, built around a rough stone chimney and hearth where a fire burned brightly, casting dancing shadows throughout. Wind whistled through gaps in the shutters, bringing the night's chill and the sound of rattling leaves and branches, the groan of he forest's trees swaying. The old woman was busying herself, hanging a black scorched kettle above the fire, picking through dozens of jars before settling on one with a nod, casting a few leaves into a earthenware cup. "Though I don't know what you expect a simple old woman like me to do for you," she added, watching Armes with sharp eyes. "Have you come to take taxes?"
"You are the witch Loemma." It was not a question. "You are a fugitive from the King's justice, for crimes against the crown and it's citizens. For the murder of children." The knight's voice was hard, but she didn't draw her blade, instead kneeling down and opening her pack. "But that isn't why I've come. The King's very own Magister spoke highly of your knowledge in arcane subjects."
The old woman's expression of indignant protest melted at the praise, and she grinned, revealing sharp teeth that gleamed in the light. "Ah, did he now? A miserable fool, but wise enough to know his betters!" she crowed, laughing like a rusty hinge. "So then! You come in need of my knowledge, my power, Armes Albrecht? To chase away the ghosts that haunt you at night? Something to quiet all of the screams of the dying?"
"I sleep well enough. You'll see why we've come momentarily. Myself, and the Princess." And she gently withdrew the Princess's small form from the bag, setting her on the table to face the witch. The bear gazed about the cottage for a moment, taking in her surroundings, and dusted her little toy paws off on her gown before dipping her head in courteous acknowledgement.
"Throw me in the Rot! What have you brought me?"
"Magister Orfeo was of the opinion that one who placed curses so deftly would surely have vast knowledge of their breaking as well," Alysia said in her small voice, the wide eyed witch drawing nearer in gleeful wonder. "If you know a means to undo the curse placed on me, I, Alysia Goldenseal, am empowered to offer a pardon for your... *previous acts*." The toy face was marvelously expressive, twisting as though she had a foul taste in her mouth as she spoke those words. "On the condition that if you commit any further crimes, you would face the immediate justice of the Crown." She spoke with the formal tone and cadence she would have used in her father's court, mustering as much dignity as her current state would allow. Being a plush toy only a foot or so tall didn't allow much.
Loemma snatched Alysia from the tabletop, making a contorted gesture at the same time with her free hand - as quick as Armes was, the witch was quicker. From the knight's perspective, the world seemed to swim and turn around her, and now "down" didn't go towards the earth - instead she fell backwards, her back crashing into the stone wall of the hovel, each of her limbs seeming to weigh dozens of stones. Her vision sparkled and she reeled with the impact. "Be still," Loemma scolded, sniffing as she turned the princess around, upside down. Alysia fussed and struggled, but the old woman's grip was harder than iron. "By the Pit, you truly are her, aren't you? There's a spirit in there, a shiny little soul. Bound tight. Fairy work." She held the bear up to her face, ignoring the way Alysia recoiled. No, not ignoring - she clearly enjoyed it, smirking. "Insulted some queen bitch of the realm Fae, did you? Needed to be taught a lesson, toy?"
"Y- That is correct. I was... not courteous." Alysia squirmed, and gasped as she saw Armes, who was struggling to breath under the magical weight crushing her in place. "Release my retainer! She will die!"
"Oh, that she will. I'll release her, by the Pit." Loemma sneered, and her hand twisted unnaturally in another painful gesture, which made Armes roar in agony, struggling briefly before sagging and falling to the ground in a heap. Her eye stared sightlessly at nothing. Alysia shrieked and flailed in the witch's iron grasp. "The only release that suits one of her sort. Now, as for you. Let's get you sorted." She hummed a cheerful tune, crowing to herself with laughter every now and then when one of the princess's sobs was particularly amusing. She spat onto a roughly human shaped doll made of knoted straw, and then breathed into it's featureless face for a moment, before carelessly throwing the bundle into a glass jar, which was in turn placed in a cage of sticks and wire. "I bet that halfwit Orfeo thought this was a transformation, and thought it might be unraveled. It's simpler than that," she murmured, absorbed as she drew a precise diagram around the cage with a lump of red chalk. A series of nested shapes, wormed throughout with writing that Alysia couldn't read, but felt as though she should understand - like a half-recognized form seen in an unlit room. "The faefilth drew your spirit out, and... pop. Threw it into another shell. I bet your body is decorating some fairylord's bedchamber now, or they stuffed an imp into your skin and are using it for a housemaid." Her musings were lost on the weeping princess, who was uselessly reaching for Armes.
"In any case. It's simple enough. I simply- " Alysia screamed briefly as she felt herself suddenly ripped from her form, the the pain was replaced with a cold non-sensation. A void. And then, suddenly... she was in a chamber made of dirty glass, resting on.. a straw mattress. No, not a mattress - a mannequin made of straw, as big as a person. She couldn't feel, but she could see and perceive. She was in the jar. The witch towered above her, laughing and tossing the little toy bear that used to house Alysia about before discarding it. She seemed woven all throughout with strings of light. "All better, Alysia Goldenseal?! Everything you could have asked for?!" Her massive face drew near, steaming the glass with her breath. "I'm sure I can find *some manner* of use for a shiny little royal soul... Or sell it to some prince of the Pit to dine on, perhaps!"
Alysia wailed, the sound making the glass reverberate around her shapeless form - she seemed to be nothing but a willow-wisp, a light in the glass. The world around her looked wrong, and strange - tangles of luminous threads connecting everything, both present and not present at the same time. Some even connected to her. She followed one with her "gaze", and saw it ran directly the stuffed bear she had inhabited. She felt a sudden urge to tug, and reached out with... with what, she had no idea - reached out and tugged the thread. The bear jerked slightly on the dirt floor, unnnoticed. The princess experienced a sense of vertigo, of being in two places at once - simultaneously in the jar and in the bear again. She released the thread and instantly was alone in her glass prison. She tugged the threads running to the straw doll, and similarly found herself within and without it. Alysia went silent. She would have held her breath, if she could breath at all. She looked in the direction of Armes, and saw that even in death, the threads of light still wove throughout her knight. They were fading, however. She reached across the distance - still not entirely sure what she reached with, or how - and grasped the thickest bundle. She held lightly, and understanding dawned. This rope, seeming to her tiny form as thick as a treetrunk. Strumming a chord on the bundle, the knight's stilled heart twitched and jolted. Alysia quickly began to work.
Loemma ignored the corpse and the foolish soul in the jar as she danced around her home, making plans, making great plans. With the power this could potentially grant her, why, she could topple the kingdom - she could topple it in an afternoon, for a lark! Ah, she could laugh, she could sing! What a day, for this opportunity to come walking into her very own front door. She was beginning to pour quicksilver into her scrying dish when the sound of breaking glass caused her to whirl around. The cage had toppled, and rolled to the floor, the jar broken. She snarled a curse, rushing over to catch the spirit before it could dissipate, but it was already gone. "Fucking hells and-" She stopped as the wood near her fireplace clattered to the floor, and looking around, realized the bear was gone. "You clever little *beast*!" she cried. "Too clever by half! I should have put you in a cold iron box, instead." She followed the little scuffed prints through the dust and ash, past the fireplace, and snatched with hands as quick as whip, pulling the filth-streaked bear out from the cabinet she'd hidden beneath. "Did you think you could hide, fool?"
"No, please! I - I promise! All will be forgiven, if you simply release me! Please! Un-unless... you refuse...?" The witch relished her pleading, and grinned her evil grin, sharp teeth seeming ready to bite.
"I refuse your *gracious* offer." Loemma answered, sneering gleefully.
"Then in the name of the King, die," answered the hoarse voice of the knight. Her massive blade, broader than a hand, erupted from Loemma's chest, the thick arm of Armes Albrecht wrapping around the woman's shoulders from behind for leverage as she drove it deeper, till it projected a full arm's length directly from her breastbone. She coughed and gurgled blood, wide eyed with disbelief, but no last curse or insult followed. She simply collapsed bonelessly to the floor, rattling a final breath. Armes let her down, but carefully caught the princess into her arms as she did, stepping away from the corpse without a backwards glance, gathering their belongings and carrying Alysia out of the accursed place, out into the wind and the night.
-------
Months later found Armes traveling in a loose caravan of pilgrims journeying to the temples of the capital, who kept their distance from the warrior - the ones who knew her reputation especially. Armes rode a nameless horse, traveling in silence, eyes vigilant and hand resting on her belted sword's pommel while the other held the reins. The dark skinned young woman riding beside her sat stiffly in the saddle, dressed in traveling clothes of fine quality, carrying a stuffed bear dressed as her twin in her lap. Her expression was a tranquil mask, never changing, though her eyes were active and keen. Her joints creaked in a strangely wooden way as she held up a hand and indicated something to the knight, who leaned close to speak. None of the pilgrims had ever seen the young lady part from the bear - some spoiled nobleman's daughter, for certain. Likewise none had seen her eat out of the privacy of her tent, and she only spoke from behind her raised hand or a fan - "The young Lady is shy," was the only explanation Armes would offer the procession's leader.
"She so resembles her Majesty the Princess."
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Date: 2025-01-09 01:16 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2025-01-10 03:13 am (UTC)Biological bodies are overrated!