BECMI Chapter 476 – Immortal Dupes

Vinndsvoll, the most magical city in the world, metropolis and capital of the Delphan Empire, looked to be a bit busier than normal when I appeared on the Seal Focus, rising up out of it in a swirl of darkly-stemmed crimson roses that faded back down around my feet.Windrose was waiting there outside the dour black edifice that the Zanzyran delegation was being held in. Tellingly, it wasn’t even floating above the ground, kind of the ultimate insult among the Delphans, as they weren’t powerful enough to warrant the respect of being held in one of the many, many floating buildings of the capital.

“Hello in person!” Windrose said warmly, her silky white hair floating and fluttering around her in a constant breeze, the latter forming an unseen aura that fully conveyed her power to any magically-sensitive person and gained her instant respect from anyone from Overmagi on down.

I gave her a warm hug. Windrose was actually still well over a thousand years older than me, despite me spending hundreds of years in both the past and on the Other Shore by now, helping shrink the gap. Her life had not been quite so energetically intense as mine, constrained by Time as she was, but once she gained her soul and claimed her Grand Master of Air Elementalism as the first such on Nown, she had slowly and steadily climbed her way to power, first to the Apex of elven strength, and then taking the step to true Air, becoming a Primal Elemental and climbing the ranks of power among the Courts of Storm.

She was a full 80-Hit Die Elemental, one of the mightiest among all the reaches of Air, with magical power that was respected throughout the Elemental planes by friends and enemies alike. Storm Herself, the Elemaster of Air, counted her as a key ally and vassal, for all that Windrose spent a great deal of time yet on the Prime, still appearing an elfin here and widely loved and admired among the Overmagi of the Delphan High Council, at least half of whom had been her students at one time or another.

That latter was largely because she was acknowledged the greatest master of Air Magic in the entire Delphan Empire, which was quite an admission and honor for an outsider in the face of their pride in their eromancy.

“Shall we face any problems?” I asked her, well aware of her enormous but subtle power in this Empire. She had ardent admirers and followers, even lovers among the Overmagi.

“You know that Overmagus Calladrel was one of the recent kills, right in his towers in Black Colluvx,” she said as we walked towards the ominous, magic-inert doors of the building before us, a prison for powerful spellcasters and made specifically for that purpose. Whole sections of it were sheathed in Anti-Magic, which would make it very difficult for a spellcaster to escape.

“As I recall, he was forcibly merged with a swine, a rat, a leech, a bat, and a dung beetle,” I nodded. “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer breeder of monstrosities. Pardon, ‘creator of new life’,” I responded coolly. He literally could not be Resurrected, because his body would simply collapse again under the strain of the failed mergers.

Quite clever, really.

Importantly, his finest achievement was the creation of the pegataurs by forcibly merging hapless captive elves with pegasi. The fool of a Master Transmuter was also an expert in multiple varieties of chimera and hydras, among other things, and considered his dracohydras his other crowning glory, the hated and voracious magical plagues that they were in Delpha.

The dragons weren’t very impressed with them, I happened to know.

“Evalvie is accused of being the one among the delegates to kill him.” I just blinked. “Moreover, Princess Brittabelle is being accused of ordering her to do so, and giving her the means to enact elven vengeance upon the monster.”

“That is indeed clever.” Although why a Zanzyran princess would give a damn about his sins was not at all clear, but who cared when the matter could be muddied. “I assume the other deaths were likely rooted in bias and hatred?”

“Of course. Nothing as trite as not backing the war, or being TOO loud a backer of it.”

The two guards waiting outside were backed by two Iron Golems each, enough to dissuade anyone with some common sense from trying anything stupid. They were big and brawny, and clearly confident in their roles here, but their eyes still indicated nervousness when they saw Windrose in her pale and graceful robes of white and sky blue, flowing like a cloud around her.

In the Anti-magic field, no less!

“Lady Windrose!” the elder of the two hastened to greet her, both of them offering her a salute. “What brings you to the Greyrooms?” he asked with wary respect.

“One of my cousins is being held in error within. I have come to release her.” She indicated me calmly. “This is my sister in arms, the Lady Edge of Eistree, of the Eismark Federation, and likely the most dangerous elf alive today. She is a personal friend of the liege of our distant kin within, and would see this matter set to right.”

They looked me up and down and memorized my appearance quite forcibly after that introduction, which I didn’t deny, merely inclining my head slightly at their examination. The crimson and black of my attire certainly stood out against the general preferences of the Delphans, and it was a given that most Overmagi prized some show of individuality and whimsy.

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“I am sorry, my Lady, but under order of the Empress, the prisoners are to be isolated from any visitors for fear of their lives. The mages they killed had many friends who are eager to avenge them,” he started to apologize.

Windrose just smiled slightly. “Oh. Like Calladrel?” Her smile was friendly, yet at the same time merciless. “Are you going to make me bother the Empress for permission, or just going to let me in and make sure I remember you fairly, Guardsman Darval?”

I distinctly watched him swallow. He glanced at the other guard, who was absolutely of no help in this matter.

“I-I will get the Warden, Lady Windrose,” he began, and she waved him off. “With your permission.” He swallowed, and nodded, and she gestured at the doors idly.

With a quiet creak and rasp of inert metal, the two doors opened behind the two men, who paled at the fact she could command them to do so.

Maybe they’d do some research and find out she was the one who had designed and Enchanted them. Maybe not.

But the Warden didn’t need to open them for her, which was probably going to alarm him, and he’d be warned quickly. It wouldn’t much matter, as we strolled into the place as if we owned it, Windrose naturally quite familiar with it as the designer of the place.

It was actually quite comfortable, all things told, designed to hold mages prisoner respectfully, not in pain or torture. There were other places they could be taken for those purposes.

“The elven prisoner is in the Green Room?” she asked the rather startled clerk behind the desk in a mild and friendly voice. He stared up at her in shock and recognition.

“Yes, yes, Lady Windrose! I was not told that you were coming…”

“It was a rather spontaneous decision, Master Bonti,” she smiled, and his knees quivered as his will melted. “We’re going to stop a travesty of justice here. Come along, Edge.”

I followed my former Sim dutifully up the stairs and down to the end of the hall, where a wooden door remained sealed at the end, the room at the side of the building. If I had it correctly, it had a shadowed pair of windows to the outside, allowing sunlight to the prisoner within.

She just tapped the door precisely, once, twice. “Who is there?” a familiar voice responded.

“I am Windrose, cousin. I bring the Lady Edge to visit you,” she responded firmly in Elvish.

“Lady Windrose? Lady EDGE?” There was a flurry of movement. “Come in, come in!” she called out excitedly.

The lock was supposed to require a complex magical key. Windrose tapped the door there, there, and there, and there was a rolling click of mechanisms cycling. She turned the knob and pushed the door open.

There was indeed gentle sunlight coming through the windows, and the chamber beyond was not small. There was a lounge at the far side which could be lowered to form a bed, several chairs of wooden make, some overstuffed and some not, with a few stands and tables about, currently with a few scattered books on them of no special relevance, merely for passing the time.

There was just the slightest shading of gray to indicate the entire area was under Anti-Magic.

Evalvie’s bright green eyes, desperate with hope, lit right up after recognizing both of us as we entered. She was a typical Sidhe elf, slightly tanned from outdoor life, pale blonde of hair, slender and just a touch over five feet tall, more slender than a typical human. Her attire was in the greens and whites of the Erewan clan, a mixture of robes and loose leggings with slippers in the finely-made elven style that complemented her well, and served as more formal attire for our kind.

Evalvie Erewahr was confused to see no Delphan troops escorting us, plainly wondering how we’d managed to get in without help, but that did not change anything in her delight as she first bowed deeply to the most renowned elfin in all of the Delphan Empire, and then, rather to my surprise, raced right up to give me a deep embrace of clear relief.

“Oh, thank you so much for coming, Lady Edge!” We naturally knew one another from Belle’s Court, and if she wasn’t Marked, she was still one of the new generation of elves who had been taught in ways and means many of her fellows had not.

She had not, however, been to the past or the Other Shore, and that was, along with her not being Marked, why she had been dispatched with the diplomatic party here. Even if someone went looking, they weren’t going to find great secrets in her head should things go bad, as they most definitely had.

“You are quite welcome, Evalvie.” She’d been a century older than I, once, but that was long since changed. I certainly had outstripped her in all of the normal accomplishments of elves, even in only this time period. Belle treated me as an equal and peer, and given I was now older than Belle was, that was not out of line, either.

It was a moment before she could get the shuddering relief out of her system, while I waited for her emotions to get under control. I was also aware that she was able to feel just how strong I was, and she was probably enjoying being held so securely, but I had said nothing and merely stood there rocking her as she regained her center.

At last she stepped back, bowing again to both of us. She glanced at the closed door behind us, sighed, and waved to her collection of seats. “The wine they have given me is at least elven in nature. Please be seated.”

We picked out two chairs that wouldn’t dared to have been seen in our own private chambers, but were comfortable enough to perch on without judgment. Evalvie returned with glasses for us, the wine a fairly common pink that humans likely paid overmuch for, and we could get around to the questions and answers that were required of her.

The Zanzyrans were being held for one reason only: all of them had two sets of memories in their heads: one where they were valid members of a diplomatic mission, and another where they were all special agents and assassins meant to kill as many Overmagi as they could!

Both seemed perfectly valid, the wizards couldn’t tell the difference when they were mindprobed, and not even magic could tell which was true, nor the diplomats themselves!