Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Liliana watched as a drop of wine trickled from the corner of her attendant’s mouth down his chin. The muscles in his throat twitched frantically to consume all the wine he could. His bulging eyes swiveled in their socket; the skin pulled taut so that she could see the soft, dark muscle beneath. He placed the goblet on the table with quite a show of force. His chest heaved as he gasped for air.

“My lady, please,” he whispered.

“How long does it last?” She asked, ignoring his pleas. She kept her eyes on her attendant as the god filled the goblet with a hapless wave of his hand.

“Hm? Oh, well, it lasts for as long as I wish it.”

That wasn’t an answer. She watched as her attendant pick up the goblet with a trembling hand. With a small grimace, he began to drink greedily. A single-minded compulsion, difficult for someone to overcome, she observed. He’s made his point, so why has not yet dispelled his magic? More wine spilled from the dragonborn’s mouth.

“I see.” She said, quietly. The attendant slammed his goblet down onto the table with great force. She noted the increase in desperation the longer he was under this spell. Evidently, this spell was a powerful enchantment, but what were the limitations? She glanced at Vocatus, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Everything seemed to slow as her mind raced. A handsome god appears before her to offer his aid in her conquest at the home of her enemies. Presenting her with an enchantment allegedly powerful enough to subdue entire towns… It seemed too perfect. There was more to this magic than the god was willing to share. But why the secrecy? Was he trying to poison her as well? Was he working for the Oxventurers? Or perhaps he wished to steal her vast army to conquer Geth for himself? She was beginning to suspect that this trickster god thought her to be a fool. Whatever his purpose was here today, she would learn the truth soon enough.

As he waved his hand to fill the goblet yet again, she cast a spell of her own. Timing her moment carefully, she used a subtle mage hand to knock his goblet over. He cried out in frustration as the contents spilled over the table and nearly onto his finery. As he busied himself with cleaning up the mess, she tipped the tainted wine into the jug nearest to Vocatus, and swiftly returned the emptied goblet to her attendant.

“Very sorry, my lady, that does not normally happen. Got a bit careless there.” Vocatus said, clearly embarrassed. A brief look of surprise flickered across his face as he noticed the emptied goblet, but he filled it, nonetheless. He tended to his own goblet with the jug of wine and presented her with his charlatan smile. “As I was saying, shall we toast to our arrangement?”

In a pantomime of her own, she returned his gesture as he toasted to their future glory. Liliana pressed her lips tightly together as so to not accidentally drink from her goblet. She could not be certain that he had not enchanted her wine unseen. She watched as he took a long sip from his goblet, smacking his lips with a gluttonous satisfaction.

“My dear, shall we depart to the –” He began, but stopped to clear his throat loudly. “Sorry, shall we depart to the study to plan your next move?” He raised his hand to his throat, massaging it gently. She imagined the spell might hinder one’s breathing in its urging for the wine.

“Are you alright?” She asked with feigned concern.

“One moment, my lady.” Confusion adorned his face as his own magic worked against him. She pursed her lips as she watched him, carefully studying his reaction. So, he was not immune to his own enchantment, she observed as he began to feverously drink the poisoned wine.

“No!” He cried. In anguish, he tossed the goblet away. He was gripping the table, the flesh of his knuckles growing white. “What have you done?!” He sputtered between ragged breaths. Her eyebrow twitched at his great dramatics. What a capricious little god he was.

Heeding her telepathic call, her guards burst through the door with their swords at the ready.

“Vocatus,” her voice like a gentle chill, “you can release my attendant from your spell now. I believe you have made your point.”

He muttered something too quietly for her to hear. She glanced over at her attendant who had since abandoned his goblet and was now drinking from the jug. She pursed her lips as annoyance gnawed at her. He did not break the spell. Perhaps she needed to be more persuasive.

“General, could you please.” She needn’t say anything more.

“Of course, my lady.” Her loyal general stepped towards the corrupted dragonborn. Without hesitation, he plunged his sword through the back of his brother-clone. The jug fell from his fingers. He thrust his sword deeper so that it protruded from the chest. The face bore an anguished expression, but she heard the small breath of relief that escaped from him. A stain of wine and blood spread through the tunic’s linen fibers. He dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. Her guard placed his foot firmly on its shoulder and wrenched his sword from the body. Still bloodied, he sheathed it and returned to her side. He smelled of brimstone and iron.

“I wish to speak to the Master Vocatus, but he appears to be rather preoccupied. Can you relieve him?”

The foot solider walked over to him and struck Vocatus with the back of his hand, knocking the goblet he was greedily drinking from out of his hand. He grabbed the god by the neck of his shirt and dragged him from the chair. She watched him squirm, desperately trying for a goblet on the ground or to get away, she couldn’t be certain. His feeble attempts failed, and he grew limp. The foot soldier held his by his arms and forced him to kneel by her chair. He made for a pitifully god. With a fist full of hair, the guard wrenched his head back to bring his eyes to hers.

“Master Vocatus, I think I have been very patient with you, wouldn’t you agree?” She said, quietly. “I think it is only fair then that you explain all to me, and I should warn you, if I find any of your explanations to be unsatisfactory, I will be most displeased.” A small smile toyed at her lips as his eyes widened with fear. “My dear boy, you are right to be afraid, but I promise we will begin with an easy question. Why did you come here today?”

“I-I came to find you,” he stated, weakly. She tapped her fingers along the arm of her chair to display her growing annoyance. She gave a curt nod to her guard, and he began to twist his arm. “I-I wanted to take your magic!” He cried, sputtering at the smallest bit of pain.

“Take my magic? Why? And how?” She demanded, quite alert. She swept her eyes across the room to detect any magic, but there were no spells to find.

“To strengthen my own.” He said, lamely. This admission did much to soothe her worries. “I just need a single touch. I was waiting for the right moment.” Satisfied, she settled back into her chair and resumed her questioning.

“So, your offer was a lie. Am I correct to assume everything in our earlier conversation was a lie too?” She asked, and he nodded. “How then did you come to learn about my existence?”

“The Oxventurers told me about you.”

“Are you working with them?”

“No,” he shook his head wildly. “We had a battle and when I tried to steal their magic, they offered me information about you!”

Liliana paused for a moment. Was this a lie as well? She wouldn’t put it past the Oxventurers to trick their way out of a situation and to gain something in the process, that is very much like them. But why not just steal their magic and hers? Why would he accept a deal with them? Whatever, the details of this mattered little.

“How does your magic work?” She asked, shifting her focus now. When he didn’t answer her quickly enough, she gave a look to her foot soldier to twist his arm some more.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” He cried out. A sneer formed on her lips, and she gave the signaled for the solider to continue. She heard the satisfying sound of a snap and Vocatus’ pained scream. “I am telling the truth! I don’t know!”

Liliana was taken aback by his insistence. She stared down at him with a growing feeling of disgust. So like a god to be willingly ignorant of his own power. She had spent decades studying magic and its potential. With each secret she had uncovered, she yearned for more. To understand the intricacy of a thing is to master it. This gluttonous little swine took for granted his power and now he wantonly wanted more?

“If you have no further information, then I think that will be all. Take him away!” She said, dismissively.

“Wait! Wait! Liliana, I can help! I can help you!” He screamed as he was pulled away. She raised her hand, and the guard halted.

“Yes, I think you can be of help." Liliana said. His eyes grew wide at this one last shred of hope. "You spoke many lies to me this day, but you were right about one thing: I am your end. Together we will let it be known that not even a god can challenge me.” She waved her hand to send him away, and the guard dragged him screaming to his death.

She felt a sudden pain in her stomach. She had become quite hungry now that everything had settled. The lobster bisque had grown cold and unappetizing, and she had no taste for sweet things, like the honey bread presently on the table. She called for the crone from earlier. The old woman crept noisily into the room.

“Bismuth, was it?” She asked, the woman nodded. “I am sure you can hear Master Vocatus is quite indisposed, so I will be taking resident here until the homeowners return. Is that agreeable to you?” Again, Bismuth nodded. “Excellent, then I request the next course.”

“What happened to him?” The crone asked, nudging the dragonborn corpse with her food.

“Insubordination.” Liliana replied, watching the woman carefully, but Bismuth’s wizened face did not betray her.

The crone brought her a fine cut of steak prepared in butter and roasted turnips cooked in herbs and goose fat. Liliana had sent for another foot soldier as a temporary replacement for her attendant. He found a vintage from the manor’s cellar at her request. The wine was a perfect compliment to the rich flavours of the meat.

When she had finished, Liliana decided to wander the manor. She found herself in a grand library, furnished with shelves of black oak. It would appear as though the Oxventurers had not been home in a long time. Everything was coated with a thin layer of dust, and the air smelled stale. The room was still and quiet. Vocatus had long grown silent.

She picked up a book from the low table by the fireplace and flipped absentmindedly through the pages. She was surprised to see it was full of sheet music. Must belong to the bard, Liliana thought. She could summarize the melody well enough, but the lyrics… The writing was inscrutable! Perhaps if she spent some time with it, she could decode the message…

The door swung open with a loud bang.

“My lady!” Liliana dropped the book as a guard rushed to her. “My lady, we found something you should see!” What more strange curiosities could this god bring?

The guard presented her with a crystalline object filled with strange red and black liquids that were moving of their own accord. Could this be the source of the god’s magic? She peered into it. A heaviness settled into her chest as she stared, feeling as though something held her there. Something far beyond seemed to be perceiving her, calling to her. The weight grew as the air around grew thick with the smell of sea. This presence was far greater than the pitiful god dead in the bowels of the manor. It was ancient and knowing. With two hands, she gripped the crystal tightly until it began to crack in her grasp. Tighter, and tighter, the crystal was cutting into her hands, but she felt nothing. She needed to break it free. She felt something sharp cut into her hand as the object gave way. The red liquid seeped into her wounds. Gasping, she felt as though her blood was boiling under her skin as the god’s magic intermixing with her own. So much magic. Magic of a god, and so many others… Wizards, sorcerers, arcane casters with names lost to time. She no longer felt the perceiver’s gaze upon her. Was their magic locked away too? Where did it go?

“My lady!” The guard grabbed her wrists. The crystal shards fell from her hand. Her body felt heavy like she had been awakened from a deep slumber. Blood dripped from deep wounds across her palms. Her guard tore pieces from his cloak to apply to her wounds. He guided her to a plush lounge for her to rest. “My lady, are you alright?”

“Yes, I am fine.” She murmured. The guard called for some water to be brought to her and held the goblet to her lips for her to drink. “I can manage myself fine.” She said, dismissing his worry. She winced slightly as she took the goblet from him. “Where did this object come from? Did you find it on him?” She inquired.

“Not quite, my lady, it appeared when he expired.”

“That did not take long.”

“The druids working on him said he was quite injured when he was brought to them.”

Liliana sipped her water. It appeared that the deal struck with the Oxventurers was one of desperation. “Where is his body now?”

“It-It disappeared, my lady, like it evaporated after he drew his last breath. There’s nothing left of him now but his waist coat.”

So much for her display of power. Except…

The Oxventurers trudged their way towards Necropolis-on-Sea, with Merilwen carefully leading them through the forests nearby to give them some cover. They stopped for a quick rest as they breached the edge of the woods. Merilwen, desperate to get away from the newly engaged Dob and Katie, trekked onwards to scan the area.

They were too late. The Inevitability was sitting in the bay, waves crashing against its hull. In the foregrounds of the manor, an encampment of at least four dozen tents had been pitched with banners and flags that she could only assume were of Liliana’s sigil.

“Guys!” She called back to the group. Denoting her tone of panic, the guild quickly rushed to her. She heard some concerned mutterings and Corazon pulled out his spyglass to get a closer look. Worriedly, he handed it to her, guiding her to a horrifying sight.

A dragonborn that looked far too much like Egbert for her comfort was strung up on a wooden cross like a crop protector. However, he was dressed in Vocatus’ clothes, his legs tarred and covered in feathers… and his body… Liliana had ordered for his torso to be hollowed out. Every organ removed so that the chest became an empty basin. Peering into it made her stomach twist. Merilwen handed the spyglass to Prudence.

“S-So, I guess we don’t need to worry about them teaming up.” She said, trying not to gag.

“If Vocatus is dead, then…” Prudence muttered, her tone slightly gleeful at Liliana’s display. To Merilwen’s relief and slight chagrin, Prudence cast an Eldritch blast on a nearby tree. The smell of charred wood and sea air lingered in the air. “Yes!” Prudence shouted, triumphantly.

“Well, I guess that’s settled then.” Corazon said, admiring the damage.

“Except for the fact that Liliana’s in our home!” Merilwen countered.

“We can’t take on Liliana and her army, Merilwen.” Dob said, quietly. “I think we need to cut our losses and count our wins. Prudence’s magic has returned, and we have a wedding to plan!”

Merilwen rolled her eyes, but she knew Dob was right. They could hardly defeat Liliana on her own, let alone with so many allies with her.

“You’re right, Dob,” she said, firmly squeezing his shoulder, “I am sure Liliana is shifting through our personal belongings as we speak.” Dob looked a little peaky, but she couldn’t tell if it was from the thought of Liliana reading something he'd rather her not, or some poison doing its work. Merilwen smirked as Dob snatched the spyglass to do a quick scan of the manor.

“To next mission, gang, wedding planning!” Corazon cheered; clapping Dob on the back.

“Yes, to wedding planning!” Egbert corralled. The change of topic successfully deterred Egbert from finding the dreadful sight. She caught Dob’s lingering, wistful stare on the manor. As she watched Dob take Katie’s hand, she wondered whose flame did he truly carry in his heart, Katie’s, or Liliana’s?

Merilwen cast once last glance at the manor, and the encampment surrounding it. She supposed in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really matter. It was foolhardy either way. And she would rather a love lost, than the world.