He recalled the screen Tempeste had shown him.
Muddle Potion
Alchemy level required: 35
Shadow Angel Pinion x1
Woozy Mushroom x2
Solvent Crystal x1
No fucking way!
Guy looked at Averyl and the shadow angel pinion in her hands, the pinion that led them to the mushrooms. “Averyl, keep that feather on you!” Guy opened his Inventory screen and tossed two Woozy Mushrooms inside it. He shut it and stood, drawing the gaze of the twin fae princesses before him. “I know why the White Dragon sent us here. That feather and the mushrooms are ingredients to synth a muddle potion.”
Nijana angled her head to the right with a confused look on her face. “And . . .?”
“We need to get these materials to Tempeste, somehow,” Guy said. “It’s our last card to play.”
“I still don’t understand the significance of a muddle potion,” Nijana said.
“I’ll explain why in a sec,” Guy said. “First . . . let’s get dressed because, damn, it’s fucking cold here!”
Chapter Sixty-Four
The joints and frame of the Sirocco squeaked and snarled as it flew under escort by the New Svartálfar fleet. Its light elf crew was reduced to soul crystals, collected, and delivered to the fae vessel, flying with a cluster of airships. Dark elves manned the Sirocco now while Remy served as the captain. What would happen next, Tempeste did not know. She hoped Remy would reveal why as she entered the captain’s office.
Tempeste sat on a chair and Remy sat at the desk that once belonged to the now-deceased captain, Bordeaux. On the wall behind Remy was a porthole with the darkened skies beyond it. If you looked close enough, one could spot the airship operated by the fae.
Remy nodded to the dark elf Spell Lancers who escorted Tempeste into the office. The two dark elves bowed, backed out, and shut the door behind. Watching a light elf issue commands to dark elves was something she had never thought would be possible.
Tempeste folded her hands over her lap. “So am I your prisoner?”
“No, of course not,” Remy said and reclined on the chair. “But if you keep seeking to use violence . . .”
“Why are you doing this?!” Tempeste demanded, her voice raised loud enough for the upper deck to hear. “Why did you hand over our kingdom’s most advanced airship?”
“You know as well as I do.” Remy stood from the chair and sauntered toward a table with a map of Alfheimr rolled across its surface. On that map were tiny replicate models representing the Sirocco, the imperial airship, and the various New Svartálfar ones escorting it. It was an attack plan. Remy gave the map a long stare and rearranged the pieces on it. “We cannot win this war, not with the fairies helping New Svartálfar.” He finished mixing up the pieces. It was a change in the strategy.
“That is why we have the star-dwellers,” Tempeste said. “Asteria sent them to help us win.”
Remy grunted and faced Tempeste, keeping his hands behind his back. “Star-dwellers who are lower level than us, and their machina is useless save for its ability to track ships.” Remy walked toward her. Tempeste kept her eyes on the map and its rearranged pieces, most notably where the model of the imperial airship was. Remy placed it near the Antoinette Mountains. “The king . . . your father . . . needs a push in the right direction. He needs to make the decision he should have made when this started.”
Tempeste snorted. “And that is?”
“Surrender, of course,” Remy said calmly. “New Svartálfar does not wish to see us all dead. But do not take my word for it; ask the people killers. They have a non-aggression pact with them. The dark ones just want to rule over us and make Lumière a puppet state. That is it. Not extermination.”
“And you are okay with becoming a slave to the dark elves?”
“Who said we will be slaves?” Remy laughed. “I will come out as an extraordinarily rich and powerful Paladin in the new world order. And the pledge that we made? The one where servicemen and women could not take wives, husbands, or have children? That can be tossed in the rubbish bin. We can marry again, Tempeste, and there will be no need for any silly laws to prevent it.”
“Those laws only exist because of the war,” Tempeste said. “If it were not for New Svartálfar, then my father would not have enforced them.”
“And if your father had surrendered, then we would be together,” Remy said, and clenched his fist. “Do not hate me for this, Tempeste. I am saving you; I am saving us. I am giving our future children a chance to actually exist, and saving all elves, dark and light, from the fae, the real threat. With dark and light elf united, we can turn against the Autumnfall Empire and their sentinel overlords.”
“Sentinels . . .” Tempeste grimaced. She looked aside from the strategy table and up at Remy. “How do you know about them?”
“I should be asking you that, ma chérie.”
“The star-dwellers told me,” Tempeste said. “Who told you?”
“The man I talked with to arrange this. A Nox Knight.”
“Nox Knight . . . you mean Serzax?”
“Correct. I met him in Alita,” Remy said. “We had a long chat and agreed on many things. Averyl had to return to her home, and the Paladin was no savior to the light elves, just a stupid star-dweller using a power he is too irresponsible to have. This takeover of the Sirocco? And the Paladin losing his sword? That was our doing.”
“You were plotting to betray us this whole time?!” Tempeste stood and exploded with fury. She shut her eyes to calm herself and sat back down. “I guess I should not be surprised. You were the one who knew Serzax ran to the mines, then insisted we send the Sirocco after the New Svartálfar fleet.”
“After confirming New Svartálfar left the mists, of course,” Remy said. “Remind me to thank Ulysses for the information he inadvertently fed me.”
“And you trust Serzax?”
“Serzax serves the fae for now,” Remy explained. “But he was born of darkness like the dark elves and assured me he will support the new world order. We just have to give him this ship.”
“And then?”
“And then, we fill it with dark elves, which we have already done, and send it back to Lumière City.”
The deck rumbled for a bit as a gust of turbulence struck, leaving Tempeste lost in thought as she put things together.
“Lumière will allow the Sirocco to land . . .”
The Lumière Kingdom did not know what became of the Sirocco since it left to explore the southern lands. As far as they were concerned, the airship was on a mission and would not question its sudden arrival. The people in Lumière City would see the Sirocco as nothing more than a friendly ship returning from its mission. Unaware of the dark elves lurking in its lower decks, waiting to leap out and siege the city without having to break down the walls.
Suddenly, Remy convincing the captain why the Sirocco should fly to the New Svartálfar fleet, rather than stopping off at Lumière to explain the situation made sense. It was part of the plot Remy and Serzax created, and they needed the Sirocco to confront the New Svartálfar fleet alone so that the dark elves, with help from the fae, would capture it.
“And we shall take Lumière in a surprise attack,” Remy said, confirming what she suspected. “Your father will have no choice but to yield. And Tempeste, if you stand at my side in support, it will only sway him to make a choice faster, thus saving lives. With New Svartálfar and Lumière united, we can undo the dark elves’ mistake of accepting help from the fae. They will turn against the fae imperial forces and vanquish them from our world.” He shot her a confident smile. “The war is almost over, and it will be our work that made it happen! Tempeste, my love, can I count on you to help me?”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then more will die from needless bloodshed because you refused to come to your senses and support me.”
“Give me time to think about it?” Tempeste asked. “It will be sometime before we leave, correc
t?”
“Yes, repairs are still ongoing,” Remy said. “I want this ship to look as if it were not in battle. We cannot afford Lumière to suspect anything once we return.” Remy stepped to the side and raised his hand, offering the exit to her. “Take the night to think about it.” Tempeste stood and walked to the door. Remy grabbed her arm from behind, pulling her back to him. “And perhaps, invite me to your bed? Just like old times? A reminder of what we left and what we could get back if this works.”
A grunt was her reply.
Remy released Tempeste from his grip and she left and wandered into her quarters. Tempeste lit a lamp to bring a glow of light into her darkened room, sat at the foot of her bed, pulled on her hair, and screamed in frustration. She was stuck. No matter what choice she made, people would die in Lumière, and New Svartálfar would reign supreme over Alfheimr. Then what? Slavery for the light elves while a select few get to live as nobles? The only positive she saw were the two sides turning against the Autumnfall Empire and the sentinels.
A fist banged on her porthole window, making her jump up in shock.
Slowly, Tempeste walked to the porthole to see someone on the outside, knocking. She opened it, and a dark-skinned fae crawled through and landed on the floor, stood up, and gave his dragonfly-like wings a rest. It was Zuran.
“What are you doing here?” Tempeste asked. “I thought you escaped?”
“We did,” Zuran said. “We ended up landing on a beach in the mists. I saw the Sirocco had not left the area yet, so I flew over to see if I could grab you.”
“Remy refuses to let me go to the upper deck.”
“I’ve noticed,” Zuran snorted. “Was about to give up until I saw your lantern turn on.”
“Listen, you must go back and tell your friends first that Remy made a deal with Serzax. That is why New Svartálfar captured this ship. He and Serzax were planning this.”
Zuran grimaced. “Motherfucker . . .”
“They plan to take the Sirocco to Lumière and release a horde of dark elves into the streets. Once the city’s defenses fall, the rest of the New Svartálfar fleet could assist. Right now, however, they are taking time to make repairs. Tell your friends to return to Lumière and warn them while these ships idle here.”
“Hmm.” Zuran narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin. “There are just dark elves on this ship, right?”
“That is correct.”
“Would it not make sense to have fae aboard too, since they could fly?”
“It would, though, Remy plans to betray the fae at some point,” she said. “But he made it clear it was a plan that will be executed at a later time. For the time being . . . Remy needs the support of the fae—”
Tempeste’s mind drifted back to the map of the world in the captain’s office.
Remy had rearranged the figures. There was one piece representing the imperial airship . . . and, as she recalled, Remy placed that ship near the Antoinette Mountains. The fae was to undertake a secondary mission.
“The Antoinette Mountains.” Tempeste looked at Zuran. “Remy is sending the fae to the mountains.”
“Any idea why?”
“No.” She fidgeted her fingers and put together a new idea. “Okay, change of plans. Do not enter Lumière City. Go to the Antoinette Mountains and find out what the fae are doing.”
Zuran nodded and walked to the opened porthole. He spread his dragonfly wings for flight, then spun back to her, offering his hand. “Come with me. I came to get you out of here originally.”
“No, my place is here for the time being,” she said. “Whatever it is Remy and his new friends are planning, I think they will need the support of the fae in the mountains. You and the others must stop them.”
Somewhere deep within Tempeste’s astral circuits was the burning desire to see Zuran get the mission done. That desire enabled Tempeste to create her own quest in which she filled out the details and issued it to Zuran.
Imperials in the Mountains
Objective: Head to the Antoinette Mountains, just outside Lumière City, and investigate what the imperial forces there are up to.
Issued by: Tempeste
Reward: 3000 Experience Points
Accept quest? Yes/No
He accepted the quest with a tap on its screen, crawled through the porthole, and buzzed his wings. Zuran dropped out of sight, then came up again to hover and fly before the opened porthole to say. “Good luck.”
The fae Mage flew away.
Tempeste awoke in the morning, found Remy in the captain’s office, and stood ahead of the desk with her arms behind her back. She angled her gaze to the map on the table, noting that the pieces never moved from their place. The strategy had not changed since she slept. The airship model representing the imperial airship remained near the Antoinette Mountains.
Remy lowered a pair of documents he had been reading. “Have you made your choice?”
“Yes, my love,” Tempeste said to him. “I will join you at your side.”
Chapter Sixty-Five
The rising sun had made it easier for Guy and his twin fae companions to traverse through the wilderness within the mists. With the alchemy ingredients to the muddle potion in their possession, the threesome, as Averyl coyly referred to their party, searched for a pathway to the south. To Guy’s memory, no airships had flown overhead. The New Svartálfar fleet and the Sirocco were moving to Lumière along with Tempeste or still outside the mists, or so he hoped. The White Dragon remained silent. Guy didn’t know if bringing the alchemy items to Tempeste was what they needed to do. Maybe the White Dragon had another use for them. He was confident, however, that this was the right course.
Nijana stopped and pointed at a clearing within the creepy forest. “That’s where I landed after escaping from Serzax.”
“The exit to the mists shouldn’t be far then.” Guy changed directions and walked to the clearing she pointed out, waving for the two princesses to follow behind. “Hopefully, those airships haven’t gotten too far.”
Averyl trotted to his side. “What if Tempeste is no longer aboard the Sirocco?”
“She’ll be,” Guy said. “Remy’s an obsessive fuck. He’ll keep her there until he gets what he wants.”
“So run this by me again, Guy,” Nijana said. “We have to give Tempeste the pinion and mushrooms because . . .”
“Because,” Guy replied. “Tempeste is the only person I know with an alchemy skill high enough to synth the muddle potion. What we do with the potion afterward, well, I’m not sure. Here’s hoping the White Dragon comes back online to tell us.”
Nijana chuckled. “Hope isn’t a strategy, darling.”
Guy snorted in reply. “Hope is the only damn thing we have left right now.”
Because they truly had not much else to go with. After searching the enchanted forest, the three found nothing else of value, only the mushrooms. They received no quests, and Nijana couldn’t summon the White Dragon again with Dianna’s Ocarina. This was all they had.
About an hour of traveling and beating the shit out of monsters had passed. The three spotted a tent in the middle of the foggy forest. Guy looked at it strangely.
“Was that our tent from last night?” Averyl asked.
If it was, then we’re going in circles. Guy examined the tent and the area closer, shaking his head. “No, I don’t recognize the rocks here. Plus, our tent should have vaporized by now since we used it, then left. Someone else camped here.”
Guy, Nijana, and Averyl crept through the fog and toward the tent, stepping over rocks and dead trees on the ground. He saw two figures patrol the tent. One held a bow, the other wore shiny plated armor, kept a large sword sheathed to their waist, and had fairy wings sprouting from their back.
Fuck . . . Guy panicked. Was it more imperial patrols? He faced Averyl and Nijana with his index finger to his lips, shushing them. Then he moved ahead of the two fae girls and stalked the two figures lurking in the mists while reaching for the Svartálfar�
�s Halberd. Guy glimpsed the Ranger first, the real threat.
He saw no wings on the Ranger but did spot a pair of pointed ears. The Ranger was an elf. Guy moved closer—
Snap.
He stepped on a twig and snapped it in half.
The snapping sound drew the alerted gazes of the Ranger and Berserker. They drew their weapons and charged Guy’s position. He yanked the Svartálfar’s Halberd free as Averyl and Nijana buzzed their wings and flew to Guy’s left and right.
The Ranger and Berserker were close enough for him to view their information.
Ulysses (Ranger) | LVL: 20 | Rank: B
Rachael (Berserker) | LVL: 17 | Rank: C
“Jesus!” Rachael cried out as she lowered the Enseigne’s Divine Saber. “You fucking scared us!”
Everyone lowered their weapons, and their fear turned to smiles and laughter.
Ulysses slung the Marauder’s Bow over his shoulder. “Guy, holy shit. You came just in time!”
Guy looked at the tent Rachael and Ulysses used as he strapped the Svartálfar’s Halberd to his back. “Hold that thought!” He ran to the tent. It was his chance to switch back to Paladin. And then the tent evaporated, right as Guy reached for the opening. He sighed and looked back at Ulysses and Rachael. “Please tell me you two have an extra tent on you?”
Rachael shook her head. “No, we just had the one that just expired.”
Guy was stuck as a Spell Lancer for a while longer.
“Great . . . Well, what did I miss?” Guy asked.
“Arn’s about to restore main power to the Seraphim,” Ulysses said.
“Uh, why?” Guy grimaced. “Isn’t that going to alert the sentinels?”
“Yeah, and the Seraphim’s about to burn up in the atmosphere unless Arn can stabilize its orbit,” Ulysses said. “Or did you forget about that?”
“I didn’t,” Guy said. “But last time I checked, Arn has until the afternoon. Shouldn’t we wait a few more hours?”
Mirror Princess: A LitRPG Space Fantasy (Sword of Asteria Book 2) Page 50