There were many things Brye had heard about the Wildlings living in the forests south of the kingdom. Of the very many terrible things they did to those they captured. Humans would be castrated and put into underground holes, never to see the light of day ever again. Maidens would be worked to exhaustion and then slowly killed, skinned alive one strip at a time, eventually being cooked into soup.

Of the Dark Elf Courts specifically, the stories only grew wilder still.

She knew many of these things were just folk tales. Brye mostly expected a series of crumbling shacks built atop some old ruins and some group of amateurs without a clue about what they were doing.

Not this.

“I think this is the fanciest place I’ve ever slept in.”

Shery’s tone might have held the typical detached cynical bite, but Brye could tell her partner in crime was truly marveling at the polished wooden finish in the walls and roof surrounding them, at the enchanted glow stone that kept a constant dim source of light, the large holes that might as well have been called windows, and the spider-silk clothes they’d been given to wear.

Brye had seen better, but this was still impressive considering how far away they were from actual civilization.

“They’re buttering us up,” the fox claimed easily enough. Her two tails were stiff, and her ears kept rotating around as she was trying to pinpoint where the real threats lay.

“Think we can make a run for it?” Shery asked. Brye’s words had brought the maiden’s thoughts back down to reality.

“The room’s got spellwork, can’t use my powers to sense anything.”

Technically true. The enchantments that had been weaved into the wood kept her psychic abilities from reaching past the window’s threshold. Like hitting an invisible wall. Though the Nogitsune was still perfectly capable of picking up the breathing of at least two guards on the other side of the door.

With a frown, Brye grabbed up a raisin from the fruit platter and tossed it out through the hole that was the “window”. She watched it soar out into the empty void and out at the other end as if there were nothing there. Yet her powers could not follow it past that empty space.

“Can’t teleport out either.”

She might be able to jump out the normal way, but she suspected there was at least an alarm in place if not an actual barrier that’d block their attempt.

Shery didn’t speak the curse out loud, but her thoughts were loud enough to cover for that.

“It is unfortunate, but we can’t quite trust you yet.”

Brye jumped forward and turned around. Power pooled in her hands, ready to attack. Her golden eyes focused on the spot the voice had come from. The sight of the Warlock made Brye’s hackles rise. The fact that she could not sense the old maiden’s presence immediately raised alarms. It was as if it were an illusion, but Brye knew her way around such things, and this was flesh and bone.

“At least I hope that will change.” The gangling coal-colored woman smiled with rows of perfect white teeth. The gesture would have almost been disarming were it not for the white eyes, unable to focus on anything, distant and cold, blind.

How old was this creature? Brye had seen maidens whose lives were counted in generations, and none had felt this ancient. Like a corpse that had been shambling half-dead, unwilling to die.

The sooner this conversation came to an end, the better. “What do you want from us?”

“Straight to the point? I can certainly appreciate that.” Milky eyes turned to focus on Brye, and the Nogitsune felt the pressure of the power held behind that half-blind gaze, pinning her in place. “You were set up to fail, were it not because I am… generous, you would be dead right now.”

Neither Brye nor Shery spoke, though the fox could feel the twinge of apprehension in her companion’s thoughts.

Uninterrupted, the Warlock continued. “The collars your owner has been selling to us are faulty, by design.” A bony finger reached out to point at the collars both maidens wore. “The very ones you wear right now.”

A shiver ran down Brye’s spine; both her tails stiffened. But she kept quiet, only sharing a concerned look with Shery. Had they fucked themselves over?

“In three months’ time, it will start to fail,” the old maiden proclaimed, silently walking towards the table that had a platter of fruit on top. “It will start as random small failures. One night you wake up realizing the bond broke. Nothing you can’t fix, but give it a week and then it starts happening every other night. Within days it just stops forming the bond at all.”

A cold knot of ice formed in Brye’s stomach, her lips thinning and her ears laying flat against her head. “You’re buying some high grade illegal shit, if you expect it to work like the normal…”

The woman laughed, picking up a pear and looking at it intently before gingerly returning it to the platter. “I accepted that argument, at first. I’ve since come to realize that was a foolish mistake on my part.”

Walking across the room, gliding in her dark silk gown, the woman looked out the window, her fingers reaching out to touch the empty space in the window’s threshold. With a flicker of power, the space turned black, almost as dark as the maiden herself. Brye flinched as all sounds from outside were abruptly cut off. The only source of light now was the dim glow of the stone above.

“I have since learned a bit regarding enchantments.” The woman turned towards them, frowning ever so slightly.

The fox flinched, grimacing as the Warlock turned towards them, approaching with silent steps, the only sound that of the wood creaking under her weight, and the air rustling in her wake. Yet not a sound came out of the maiden- not that of her heart, or her breathing, or her clothes. Brye would’ve put doubt on her own hearing if not because Shery’s heart was pounding so hard a human could have probably noticed it.

The Warlock reached out, cold bony fingers hooked on Brye’s jaw and tugged at her face to meet the milky white chalky eyes. Brye could feel the frailty of the woman’s body, old, worn, and brittle. She could outmatch her, just one punch, one scratch. It would be all it’d take to down her.

But the old maiden did not fear Brye. The Warlock knew she feel it. The immeasurable elemental energy swirling around the maiden. The moment Brye so much as tried to attack, this monster would blow her to pieces where she stood.

“Ah, I see. A threshold. That explains it.”

Next to the fox, Shery gasped.

Brye’s stomach dropped. Anger flared, and she growled. How the HELL had this woman found out!? “None of your business.”

“True, I suppose.” Brye’s jaw was released, the woman stepping back, smiling in amusement. “But aren’t you tired of being at the bottom?”

“What. Do. You. Want.” Growling, the fox’s tails lashed in anger.

“Join me,” the woman replied. “There are no maiden slaves here.”

“That is a pretty good sales pitch,” Brye spoke coldly, giving a derisive shake of her head. “Living in nature, all happy and free. Hell, if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to grow into a wrinkly old lady who gets her diapers changed by young studs.” Snorting, she rolled her eyes. “Then again, it’s likelier the Kingdom will come crashing down on this place harder than a Quartzal meteor. Then I’ll get my corpse thrown into a river, and the last thought I’d ever have would be why I agreed.”

“Oh?” Amusement crossed the woman’s face. “And what makes you think the Kingdom would be able to destroy us?”

“Besides, how few there are of you? These would also fuck you up.” Brye pointed at the collar currently on her neck. “You can’t make an army if you don’t have enough collars. You’d have to steal them. And the army would come knocking before you had the chance to go anywhere.”

The smile that spread across the Warlock’s lips almost split her head in two. Those milky eyes shone with wild joy. “You would be right… normally. Things, however, have changed.” Her finger caressed the wooden walls as she walked towards the door. “What if I told you I have found a way to awaken the slumbering Elves?”

Brye’s eyes widened; she quickly suppressed the shock. “Their curse is too strong to be broken through.”

“A week ago, I would have told you the exact same thing.” The grin didn’t quite vanish, remaining with a tone of smugness. “That the Elves that fall into the deep slumber will never awaken. That no human or magic is powerful enough to overcome their feral state.”

“I don’t get it.” Shery glanced between Brye and the Warlock; her mind was muddled with questions and doubt, too many for her to just stay quiet and observe. “What changed?”

“We discovered someone that can form bonds without needing the help of the collar.”

“Bullshit.” The response was an instantaneous one. The kingdom would’ve been in an upheaval if such a person was found.

The Warlock extended her arm, pointing a finger at them. Brye barely had the chance to react as an invisible force grasped her collar and yanked. It was a hard tug, powerful, accompanied by something sharp caressing her throat. Every instinct in her screamed. “No!”

Too late- the collar had been sliced and yanked out of her grasp.

Next to her, the exact same thing happened to Shery.

A billion thoughts crossed Brye’s mind. The bond would break within the next handful of seconds, and she would have three days before she began going feral. Locked in a room, unable to escape. No, she could not let that happen again! Her eyes focused on the Warlock, and the room warped around her. Appearing right above the frail, bony bitch, she prepared her right hand to unleash a wave of darkness at her target.

If this was going to be the end for her, better dead than feral.

The Warlock did not move, not even looking up to see Brye’s incoming attack. Had the fox caught her by surprise?

As her nails wracked against an invisible wall, mere millimeters away from the Warlock’s bone-white hair, it became clear she had not. Brye flinched, feeling herself slide downwards to the floor in front of the enemy maiden. She prepared to dodge a counterattack.

But none came.

The Warlock merely looked at her with that awful smirk, seemingly too amused to attempt to splatter her into bloody chunks.

“Brye!”

The voice came from behind the fox. She twisted to see Shery, the gray maiden’s eyes wide, and her fingers on her throat. Why hadn’t she attacked? Brye caught a flicker of thought from her companion. A singular, clear, powerful thought.

“The bond is still there.” The realization struck her like a hammer. She didn’t have her collar; the enchanted item was still firmly in the old maiden’s grasp. Yet she could still feel the presence of the bond, urging her to worry over a specific and very important human whose comforting presence was currently well out of her reach.

And in an instant, everything clicked.

“Mark.”

The Warlock’s smirk grew even more. “Exactly.”