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Spots danced across Anala’s vision as she tried to keep herself up, gasping for air, hand gingerly pressing against her bruised chest and neck.  It was hard to breathe, each pant like ice digging down her throat and into her lungs after the weird kick the Empress had landed on her, and the wire that constricted her windpipe made it burn.

Am I shaking?

Her legs were weak, and her mouth parched, quaking eyes lifting to see the unnatural ruler leering at her from her casual, sitting position.  Obsidian chains breaking through reality supported her, making Anala’s teeth chatter; it was unlike anything she’d seen, even in her nightmares.

Princess Heather and Castria were speaking in the background, but it was hard to hear them beyond the pounding in her ears.  She understood why Heather had fainted on the spot after fighting this creature once.  She couldn’t hear the crowd when the smirking girl’s glowing, lime-green eyes connected to hers.

“Anala!  Get ahold of yourself!”  Aura hissed, wind swirling around the prissy Proltis to launch her forward to talk in their short respite.  “Drake, I know you have no incentive to help us, but if we are to pass the Empress’ trial, we must work together.”

The frosty, handsome, black-haired Tarnash popped up beside her out of nowhere, snapping Anala out of her shock as his surprisingly warm hand pressed against her back.  “Are you okay, Anala?”

“D-Don’t touch me,” she gagged, stumbling a little away and wincing as the pain returned.  “I’m…  I’m fine.”

“Haaa.  Just checking.  No incentive?”  he asked with a slight frown, keeping his gaze on the indomitable ruler, waiting for them to collect themselves.  “Tarnash supports the kingdom, and you ladies are important parts of that kingdom.  Even if you don’t want my help, I’ll offer it.”

“I said I’m fine,” she hoarsely snarled.

By Drake’s frown and Aura’s rolling eyes, they knew she wasn’t; Anala couldn’t deny it to herself.  She wasn’t okay.  Every twitch her chest made was like a boot pressing on her breast, and somehow, she’d sustained bruising and burns against her ribs and limbs, too.

She ran her fingers over the extremely fine lines where the Empress’ thread had bitten into her skin, yanking her into a nosedive; the strength Elinor had was like a full-fledged Magic Knight.

Fighting back tears, she cleared away her wet cheeks, knowing she probably looked like total shit, but that wasn’t the issue.  I… almost died.

A lump formed in her throat as she maintained sight of the smirking monster in disguise, alight with mirth at their pitiful attempts to attack her; she hadn’t been pressured in the slightest, and Anala kept reliving that brief second where the ground nearly met her face.

So this is what Dad meant when he said the battlefield was different from training.  I’m so stupid…  I just charged right at the Raven Empress.  Stupid…

Growing up in the Great House Tarkov was far from easy, and she had expected a training exercise from her parents, grandparents, or siblings at a moment’s notice.  It was fun to play the little mind games of when her family would make a move and attack.

This… was not that; no, this was a whole different game, and she saw it inside the predatory ruler’s frigid, calculating gaze that made her want to run.  If this was what the Raven Empress was like when restraining herself to the utmost, she didn’t want to know what it looked like when she was serious.

“What do you need me to do,” Anala whispered, spotting her family’s attentive faces in the overhead magic Elinor generated for the audience as it panned out to show each House Head.

Is… Mom worried about me?  I’ve never seen her make that face before…

Unlike her typical attitude whenever they attended a ball together, Aura didn’t boast or try to dig in any snide comments about her while eyeing the empress.  The terrifying creature was running out of patience, which was fair; Anala knew she should be dead several times over by now.  It was expected when dealing with someone on par with the king and grand duke.  Only, from what she’d experienced thus far, the empress was far more ruthless.

“Okay, this is what we need to do…”

Her explanation was quick as Elinor walked to the stadium's center, spreading her fingers to wrap her jewelry, top, and bottoms in extra layers of silk, preparing for their exchange.  By the look on her pretty face, it was as if she could hear Aura’s plot, despite the green-haired girl’s wind manipulations to isolate their words.

Drake shook his head when she finished.  “This is putting far too much pressure on Anala after everything she’s already been through.”

“I’ll be fine,” she protested, hair igniting while suppressing the urge to shiver.  “Aura will embarrass her grandmother if she doesn’t follow through.  I can trust her self-image, at least, and she doesn’t want to look bad in front of the empress.  Right, you uppity snob?”  she said, trying to rekindle her spirit.

“Humph.  Just be ready for when my wind closes in.  And you’re the key for this to work, Drake.  Anala, you have to maintain your output.  Don’t choke.”

“Shut up.  Just cower in the back…”

The boy sighed.  “I get you’re counting on me, and that’s why I’ll be changing my part in your strategy.”

“And what is wrong with my plan?”  Aura snarled, arms crossing under her bust as the Raven Empress cut in.

“As I said, girls, time is up.”  They gulped at the illuminated green eyes that welcomed their attack.  “Do not hesitate in the face of death… or death will claim you.”

Drake gave them a meaningful stare.  “Trust me.”

Anala streamed out a long breath and broke away, red flames spreading over her body as she fought past the pain compressing her chest and neck.  She hated to admit it, but she did trust Drake since he’d never lied in his life; on the other hand, the stupid Proltis was a walking meat bag of deception.

“Empress,” she greeted, her tears burning away as she moved to stand in front of the disguised creature.  “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

A quake ran down her frame as two lines of emerald fire split near the white-haired creature’s head, opening to display large ruby eyes that shifted to keep track of Drake and Aura.

Dammit!  She has more powers?!  This isn’t even fair!

Elinor’s calm words tickled her ears, making her fire falter for a split second.  “I’d like to see that spitfire attitude return, Lady Anala.  I admire someone who enjoys a fight.  Although, one’s first encounter with death can certainly leave a mark.  Don’t doubt yourself.”

Drawing in her lips, Anala stiffly nodded, sensing Drake and Aura get into position.  There was no doubt in her mind that the Raven Empress was inhuman.  She looked like a pretty and intimidating girl around her age, yet she was something else; Anala could feel it in her bones, and Elinor’s cadence dwarfed anything she’d witnessed—not even her father compared.

“I’m afraid,” she admitted, fingers tightening against her palms and somewhat breathless.  “I… didn’t know what it was like to fight something…”

“Something like me?”  Elinor finished as she trailed off, removing her hand from her chest after reinforcing the thread binding it; it looked thicker and more rigid than the malleable silk before.  “Hmm.  With that, you have impressed me.”

Anala’s eyebrows drew together.  “What?”

Pivoting, the empress made a sweeping gesture to the Tempests, Alchemists, Magic Knights, and Conjurors, her voice mixing with the lowered volume of the instruments.

“Take note, citizens of Kaspir, it is a brave thing to admit when one is frightened in front of an enemy…  It is a humbling thing that your leaders know well.  Fear is not weakness.  Fear makes you sharp.  Fear curbs pride and complacency.”  She turned to level a smile in her direction.  “Fear makes you strong because it gives you resistance to overcome.  Lament the day when you no longer feel fear because it is the day you cease to grow.  Will you allow fear to conquer you, Lady Anala?”

“No, Empress,” she stated, trying not to let her legs buckle under the stress as she saw her death at the hands of the white-haired ruler.  Every fiber of her being told Anala that if she fought, she would die.  “The House of Tarkov…  The House of Tarkov does not run,” she repeated.

Her courage redoubled with the praise she’d received.  It didn’t matter if she said this was enough to enter the House of Ravens.  She had to show her best.  She had to prove that she wouldn’t faint in a real battle.

“Is that right?”  Elinor whispered, vision narrowing as a wave of chills overcame her.

Goosebumps crawled up Anala’s arms as she felt unseen hands reaching for her throat, yet she knew it was all in her head; instinct told her to flee, yet she resisted the urge and channeled that fear into her fire, tinting it gold as the heat intensified.  She’d never fully encased herself in the aurelian flame, yet it felt effortless by controlling her fear and using it as fuel.

“I’ve never… knew fear until now.  Thank you, Empress… for teaching me how to use it.”

Elinor slammed her palms together, making her flinch before the empress linked her fingers.  “Then show me your fear!”

A whirlwind began to slowly cycle around the edges of the stadium, spinning high overhead with Aura’s broad manipulations.  Drake shot to the top of the dome of water that the grand duke maintained, generating a mist above that obscured him from view.

“Hahaha!”  The dominating creature before them slammed her feet against the stage, fracturing the stone and setting her ground.  “Very well, recruits, show me your resolve to overcome it.  Show me how bright your spirit shines!”

Arms rising, Anala let the tightness of expectations—the expectations of her family, nation, and this frightful creature—everything within her heart collected in a film around her.  It fed her flames while she burned the discomfort of trusting Aura with her life—a bully who had belittled her since she was five.

She pulled in the unsure emotional turmoil revolving around Drake, and every eye waiting with anticipation, condensing her flames.  It intensified into a thin layer of compact energy that only grew in strength.  Visualizing the pressure that weighed her down helped to compress it into a bottle, and she unleashed that bottle, allowing the floodgates to run free.

An inferno engulfed the laughing white-haired creature; the empress didn’t move, linked fingers still clasped together at her front as she welcomed the blaze.

A gale swept in from above, Aura’s tornado dramatically picking up speed and collapsing on top of Elinor’s head, fueling Anala’s green-flecked aurelian flames and creating a pillar of fire that whipped up the empress’ braid, disintegrating it in an instant.  Yet, the grinning girl didn’t so much as flinch, welcoming the conflagration.

Anala’s gut cramped as the empress’ flesh burned away, revealing the creature’s metallic, black exoskeleton underneath.  It began to glow under the intense heat, the tile around the Raven Empress melting to sweep up the scent of brimstone and gas that spun upward in the strongest firestorm she’d ever created.  Aura’s winds banded tighter, funneling and feeding her inferno, yet the empress didn’t twitch a finger while looking her dead in the eye.

Emerald energy erupted from Elinor’s frame, making Anala step back before biting her lip.  Growling, she refused to let her fear overwhelm her by taking a step forward, redoubling her efforts, arms beginning to shake; unfortunately, she was losing strength.  The white-haired teen’s figure reformed, skin growing back inside the green fire that tainted her golden inferno.

I’m going to die!

“Is this all you have, Aura?”  the empress mused, her voice booming all around her from the ravens as she lifted a foot, her melted skin peeling away from the bubbling stone.  The liquified minerals rose around her as she took a firm step toward Anala, her toes sinking into the lava.  “Can you not rip me from the earth?  Lord Drake predicted as much.  Hahaha!”

Anala couldn’t focus on her green-haired teammate; she was gradually losing control and stability over her flames, the fire becoming chaotic and opening herself up to recourse as her sleeves burned away.  The tightness around her heart was crushing as the pounding in her ears intensified.

The creature’s grinning face melted away again as she took another step forward, hair and skin vaporized before reforming moments later inside her green flames.

I’m going to die!

“How much longer can you last, Anala?”

“A-As long as it takes!”   She felt 1st-degree burns mar her unblemished skin for the first time as much of her clothes were stripped away.  “I can—”

“Anala, stop!  Now, Aura!”

The empress’ alight, neon-green eyes flicked to the sky as the golden tornado surrounding her dispersed in a rush of superheated wind.  Anala winced as she felt a punch to the gut, the gale dragging her toward Aura.

On the verge of fainting, she tumbled over the tile to a stop, looking up just in time to spot a colossal pool of water falling out of the clouds of black smoke above.  It collapsed over the grinning empress, causing an explosion of mist from the supercooled elements.

Drake was right on top of it, channeling his primary element into the sphere, flash-freezing it, and turning the ball a milky white.  Cool fog spiraled throughout the stadium, leaving the crowd on their feet and squinting to see the empress’ magic for the results.

“Is… it over?”  Aura gasped, face slick with sweat for probably the first time in her life.  “Hahaha.  I think…  What?”

Anala knew better.  The icy film was filtered past to show a silky ball in the large, overhead magical projection.  It constricted, making the audience and Anala stumble back as it slowly pulled in, showing a gap before rapidly expanding, pounding against the ice; a dull pulse shook the air, making Anala’s lungs jump into her throat.

Then, a second came, a third, and a stillness came over the throng, Anala’s heart threatening to fail her as cracks spiderwebbed through the giant ball of ice.

“No…”  Aura whimpered, falling to her knees as Drake tried to maintain the block, teeth locked together and struggling.  “How… are you supposed to fight her?  Fire won’t burn her, wind won’t force her off the ground, and ice won’t freeze her.  She’s… unstoppable.”

Fighting past the burns, scrapes, and bruises across her body, Anala stumbled forward to reach the icy sphere, placing her trembling hands against the surface to try and project her will into the ball; she was far from Drake’s level at harnessing the ice element, but she could do her best to help.

“C’mon, Aura!”  Anala shouted, unable to keep the pain from her voice.  “Drake, we’ll try to maintain it—fight back!”

Aura soon launched forward to support them.  “Does it even matter at this point?  There’s no way we can maintain it without Drake carrying most of the load!”

“Shut up and focus, you—oh, no…”  A fissure ran from the center to her eyes, creating a structural weakness.  Aura was right; Drake only had one shot to attack before everything collapsed, but it didn’t mean they shouldn’t give it their all.  “Aura!”

“I’m doing it, dammit!  Drake, do something!”

Drake didn’t respond or look panicked while pulling out one hand, creating a spike of ice from his palm before shoving it into the hole, shattering the sphere himself as dozens of tips penetrated the drawn-in silken ball, causing it to stop its rhythmic pulses.

Aura jerked back, using a rapid gale to reflect the majority of ice shards from digging into them.  The chunks blew apart, showing giant crystal icicles sticking into the silken sack.  Yet, Anala’s heart sank as it started to peel back, revealing the empress with the orchestra’s ominous, plucking strings humming in the background.  It was impossible.

 

* — * — *

 

Legs crossed, sitting inside a throne of her creation, Elinor flicked her wrist to the side, sending an electrical pulse through the silk to open the protective pod, thread attached across much of her skin.

[Grade Advancement - Artificial Body III Unlocked]

[Enhance Construct II - Increased to D-tier]

[Artificial Body Reconstituted]

[Silk Reserves: 38%] 

Her lip curled when she saw the tremor that ran through the two teenage girls’ frames upon seeing her, peppered with ice-like shards that broke away with her weaving silk.  Hands rising as the silken sack bloomed like a flower, she slowly clapped, shards breaking away from her figure as her regenerative properties ate them away.

“Look at what you can do when you work as a team.  Impressive.  I hope your classmates take note.  Well… why don’t we move on to the main event?”

Silk spreading out in cycling petals, mist swirling as chunks of crystal were pushed off the arena’s edge to bite into the grass; she unfolded her legs to rise to her feet, Drake dropping out of the sky to generate a globe of ice to protect the two girls, a five-meter-tall spear coming into being to throw at her.

“Drake!”  Anala shouted, having trouble keeping herself awake after using so much of her mana.  “What are you…”

It sealed off, and Elinor watched the calm, red-faced noble boy launch the projectile at her, gathering all the power he could behind it.  Elinor casually stepped to the side, its advance moving at a crawl to her thélméthra hyper-awareness and mental processing prowess.  Her two extra eyes kept sight of the boy and sealed off girls as her focus shifted to a newcomer.

A flash of light brought a bolt of lightning from the sidelines to touch her outstretched finger, electricity tickling her nerve system as she guided it through her silk network to rip across Drake’s ice shell that her expanding sea of webs encased.

It instantly fractured, and a weak burst of red fire rocketed out of it; Aura supported Anala as the green-haired girl glared at her, Aura’s flushed face slick with tears.  Elinor wasn’t focused on the three anymore, though, her smirking eyes were fixated on the new contender she hadn’t expected.

“Princess Castria…”  Her Monarch of Storms held her arm out, hovering in the air as sparks danced across her glowing, neon-blue hair and encircled her frame.  “…couldn’t stand being an observer any longer?”

Her Tempest showed a forced smile as she floated higher into the air.  “Weren’t you the one that said we should move on to the main event, Empress?  Everyone!”  she called out.  “Don’t hold back and give the empress everything you have!”  Castria offered her hand to the trembling redhead beside her, showing an encouraging smile, sparks dancing at her fingertips.  “Heather, help me!”

“I… I can’t!  Drew’s specialty is lightning, not me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she chimed, holding her other hand out for Julian.  “We’re stronger together if we unite our mana.  Funnel it all into me!  Everyone else cut the Empress off from her webs so she can’t ground the lightning; it’s the only thing fast enough to strike her when she’s like this!”

“Naughty girl, Castria,” Elinor snickered, kneeling to press her hands against the silk bed, “I love it!  Is Queen Tiffany giving you tips?  Hehe.  Grandmasters, guide your future students.  I will get serious because my little lightning cloud has exposed a weakness…  How many times will I kill all of you, hmm?”

A streak of blue light brought the third-best Magic Knight candidate right in front of her, propelling himself to cut her in half with his illuminated sword; an impressive move for someone who had yet to enter the academy.

“Hmm-hmm.  Not even close…”  Elinor mused, eyes rising to meet his determined brown eyes.  “Scatter.”

Sinking her fingers into the silk and utilizing a portion of Castria’s stored electricity, she sent the powerful pulse throughout the entire network at lightning speed.  The thread, previously hard to control on her own due to a lack of energy, propelled in all directions, sticking to the coliseum support pillars and fashioning a colossal web throughout the entire arena that almost reached the liquid dome above.

Panic gripped the students as the sticky thread spiderwebbed in all directions, and only a small portion of them managed to dodge the fire-resistant material; those that were too slow were coiled up and pulled into cocoons to be rescued by those skilled enough to evade the initial attack.

The Magic Knight used a burst of mana to flip through the holes in the web, slashing through a thin veil and attempting to cut a beam-sized rod that expanded to hit him in the chest; it was too thick, and inside was a little trap—liquid web that she’d been steadily injecting inside the network of hollow thread—the entire structure was like a nerve system in itself, and she was the heart.

His sword cut a thin line through the web’s outer case, only for hundreds of tiny threads to escape and wrap the boy into a cocoon, carrying him out of sight in the expanding super-structure.

Elinor lifted to her full height, sensing every pulse the air left against her nest; she’d used all of her silk reserves to create it, but this was the main event, and she could still manipulate it to some extent.  Letting the weight of the situation hit them, she spread her fingers wide, maneuvering the hive of threads so the audience could still see the hologram.

A raven swooped in to land on one of the strings beside her, projecting her smile to a hundred thousand enthralled onlookers.  Her voice rang throughout the stadium, the orchestra picking up.

“Dance for me.”

Bending her fingers as flames ignited from the Tempest, she hunted those near her nest, giving her an insight into the incredible defensive position thélméthras had.  Once built, their nests were practically impossible to uproot in their vast underground networks with how much control even the workers had over their home defense.

Threat shot out to latch onto an Alchemist, yanking the shrieking girl into the maze to be imprisoned, and she began doubling up pairs so the Tempest or Magic Knights couldn’t just break free without fear of harming those they were bound to.

Her Monarch of Alchemy’s deep, feminine voice sparked hope throughout the stadium of panicking participants as she whipped the other Grandmasters into action.

“Grandmaster Holst, organize the Magic Knights to defend the Alchemists and Conjurors.  Grandmaster Vesta, have the Tempest break into two groups: those defending and aiding Princess Castria and Heather, and those supporting the Magic Knight squad entering the nest to save those captured.”

“What advantage do the Alchemists and Conjuration Houses play in this war game, Queen—Grandmaster Lilya,” Grandmaster Holst muttered, correcting himself while stroking his beard and seeming to have swiftly adapted to the new command structure.

The sober tone of Grandmaster Irkai interjected.  “You allow me to worry about that, Holst; the House of Conjuration is not defenseless.  I will instruct them for a rather devilish surprise for our Raven Empress,” he said with a dark chuckle.

Grandmaster Astral B. Benka leaned in closer to the former queen, whispering low enough that Elinor’s advanced senses had difficulty catching her words due to the chaos around her.  “What can the Alchemists do, Mistress?  You were the one who kept the House of Alchemy alive.  You should take my seat.”

“No, Astral,” Lilya returned, her voice softening.  “Anything I taught you, you enhanced.  Have more faith in yourself.  The Empress’ silk seems similar to the desert hulutarna nests.  We will instruct the Alchemists to create a bomb that will attack the protein clusters of the Empress’ web.  She might be able to adapt to it, but it should take time.”

“Brilliant!”  Astral clapped.  “I think I know the base you’re starting at; they should have the ingredients on hand if they transmute their cosmetic items.  It is sooo good to have you back.”

Holst hummed, using a piece of paper that one of the Tempest instructors floated to him to highlight specific formations for the Magic Knights to follow.  “You can attack her nest directly?  Humph.  Well, that would have been useful in the desert outpost defenses.  Maybe the recruits aren’t doomed after all.  How goes it on the elemental front, Grandmaster Vesta?”

“Poorly,” she muttered, and Elinor could hardly feel her gentle, probing air currents that tried to identify key factors about her nest.  “It’s highly resistant to most common elements without combinations, and we’ve already seen what Princess Castria’s lightning did, which was very impressive at her age…  In fact, the Empress used it against her, storing part of it to expand her web.  It will be hard to get the Empress out with the control she has over it.”

“Leave that to me,” Irkai muttered, scribbling over a few sheets of paper to deliver to the House of Conjuration candidates.  “We will see if this year’s students can perform a united summoning and binding without a Gate; if they have enough combined mana… I know Ralna is skilled enough to lead it.  We need all of them, though, Grandmaster Vesta.”

The noblewoman’s nose creased, likely not liking the prospect of relying on the House of Conjuration for their trump card.  “A rescue must be planned for your many candidates that couldn’t escape the initial attack…  It will be a miracle if these half-baked initiates can organize at this level.”

Elinor bobbed her head side to side as she sat inside her nest, enjoying the thrill of strategy, music, and the cries of the teens.  Each attempt they made to survive the onslaught of her seeking threads was like sugar on her tongue.  Every gasp or stifled scream from a citizen worried about the teens filled her with a symphony of raw emotion she hadn’t felt in a while.

Dance, dance, dance, my little flies.  Hehehe.  I can’t produce any more silk, my Death Pool has been drained to levels I haven’t seen since I first changed, and my opponents are gradually organizing to close a vice around my throat…

She held a finger against her diamond earring, slightly scorched after Anala’s impressive inferno that had burned through her thick defensive weaves; it had been dangerously close to touching her diamonds, and air plus heat did not make for a good combination for the items.

[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 50%]

This thrill is what I’ve been missing!

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