In a Valley in the Future...

Packing up actually didn’t take all that long.

I did, after all, have a good toolset with me, and it was enough for me to make to make some Compression stuff. My Floating Forge could support about ten tons, easily able to carry everything.

Interlinking, cog-connected cabinets folded up, thinned, and shrank down, linking to form a sort of barrel around the edges of my Forge. In went the ingots I’d smelted down, and with the Disk and its barrel on it, I Saluted the Morning, and headed on out of there.

Of course, Noir Rabe wasn’t going to leave it at that. He was waiting down close to the outflow area, his wooden sword out and in hand.

“Ah, couldn’t resist, could you, Erlking Noir Rabe?” I asked, seeing him standing there.

“Your Song was a potent thing, but if I were to allow mere words from a human girl to vanquish me, what sort of king would I be?” he asked coolly, his confidence somehow restored.

I pushed my Forge away. His army was a respectful distance away, watching with great interest, and probably not believing I had anything resembling a chance against him.

“Ah, yes, humans are your favorite opponents, and you are a master at killing them. We are what we call a Favored Enemy to you, one that you are better at fighting than any other.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “It does not deter you, I see.”

“Of course not, Erlking. Favored Enemy bonuses are morale bonuses. Morale bonuses are easy to remove. You just have to frighten the person bearing them, and they evaporate with the loss of confidence.

“Would it surprise you to learn that I will have no problem whatsoever intimidating you?” I asked archly.

He looked me up and down warily. I was giving off some very nasty vibes right now as his Buffed Sword came up. “Being afraid of a child seems unlikely,” he claimed loftily.

“Mmm. Then there’s the fact you consider yourself a swordsman, but you use an inferior Sword that’s relatively easy to hack apart. On top of that, you’re a Sword Specialist, but you’re not a Melee. Counter Mastery easily negates all your Sword skill as I ply mine directly against yours.”

And I put my foot down.

He flinched as something swept past him. He looked all around sharply, wondering what had just happened.

“You’ve probably never considered that you violate every law of aerodynamics with those piffling wings of yours. You can’t fly right now.” He tensed despite himself, his wings snapping out and beating at the air. He bounced a few inches off the ground, but otherwise didn’t move, when he should have been shooting up into the sky.

I definitely saw his lips pale.

“The dimensions are locked down. You can’t Summon, you can’t dimension-hop, and your little personal temporal acceleration field isn’t working.” I flicked a stone up to my hand, then dropped it back down. I saw his lips move as it fell at normal speed, not the slow speed he’d see if his natural Quicken field was still active. Living life fifty percent faster naturally meant nothing to nigh-immortal Fey.

“On my first strike, I’m going to use a Hawk’s Strike, mixed with Pierce Magical Defenses. The magic on your wooden armor is going to go away. If you don’t evade with everything, you’re going to die, and my Sword is Blooded, so your Fast Healing isn’t going to heal the wounds until tomorrow morning.”

I straightened up and stared into his dark eyes. “But the most important thing is that you are a Fey, and Fey suck at fighting. Compared to Soulborn, pre-incarnate species are pathetic experientialists, with no hard-wiring for combat. You stand at the apex of the Fey, and your counterparts among Angels, Devils, and Demons would hand you your ass. To put it bluntly, of the great powers that can hit Twenty, Fey are the weakest of the whole lot.”

I drew Tremble as he tried to muster outrage in his eyes.

Tha-thump. Thump thump. Tha-thump, thump thump…

“Tremble, She comes…” we sang together, and Tremble lit up, an awful Banelight reflecting in the erlking’s eyes the hue of Fey blood. HIS blood. “Came the crows, black on wing…”

Greater Soulbound. Bane to Fey. Enmity to Samsaran. Courageous. Blooding. And just for him, Bane of Legends, since he was one of the great powers of the Fey.

The Greater Magic Weapon he had on his carved wooden sword paled at the ringing hunger in the beat and chime of what was effectively a +15 Weapon screaming for his blood and soul.

“Heralds of doom lead the erlking…”

Like I said, I had no problems Intimidating him. His every advantage was nullified, Anathema to everything he represented howled in my hand, and I came for him in a Wardancing charge that looked like a liquid whip unfurling.

His Sword was split like a bokken against a katana, the magic puffing out as it faded, and Sundering Cleave drove the point straight towards his throat.

He indeed evaded with everything he had, fear charging out and destroying his confidence, but he was slow now, and I was very, very fast, even him beating his wings frantically couldn’t outrun me. The point of Tremble opened his cheek effortlessly, and ruby blood too bright to be human painted the rocks.

He had nothing to attack with now, a swordsman with no sword. He tried lashing out with hands that suddenly grew impressive talons, and chik-chik, he cried out as I opened his palms across the edge of my Sword.

“Stack the carrion, pluck the eyes…”

I twisted, and robe-cut him. His fancy wooden breastplate, carved with forest scenes, leaves, and inset with topaz and black sapphires, was cloven cleanly in two, and the slender, well-muscled chest with feathery body tufts gained a wound reaching from his right shoulder to left hip at the same time.

He hit the ground as somehow my foot found the back of his heel, and down he went, cushioned by his wings.

He found himself looking down the chisel-point of my Sword, just barely drawing a bead of blood on his prominent nose.

“Burn the homes, weep the skies…”

He looked up along the length of the Sword that I was shaking to keep back from him, that was hungering for all he was, as I finished the stanza, and he couldn’t even gasp as I buried everything in his gaze. I wasn’t a human girl in his eyes anymore.

I was Sama Rantha. I came, and he trembled!

With visible difficulty, I drew Tremble back as I leaned in.

“If you ever draw a weapon on me again, I will slaughter you immediately,” I said in a flat voice, cold and lofty as the mountain heights, dark and eternal as the ocean’s depths, caressing the syllables in Fey like poison dripping off a dagger, keeping his gaze without effort. “The price of this duel and showing you how weak you really are is that you will use your Fey minions to keep track of my location, and you will happily inform Tusk Annie of that location if she should come asking questions… and inform me, if you should find Tusk Annie.

“And little Erlking, Tusk Annie is not a human. If you try to fight her with your pathetic level of skill, she will feed on you, rape you, and tear you apart, probably in that order. If she reaches that Henge, she will rip your little army apart with the Elementals bound there, and you don’t have the power to stop her.

“As a healer, I highly recommend that you stay right where you are and not move until the sun arises again, or you might bleed out from that cut on your chest.

“Ta.” Tremble shrank from sword to dagger-size, and I sheathed her behind my waist. Smoothly and shamelessly, Tremble Cantrip-tossed his sundered breastplate and sword into the center of Forge, because their jewels could be Burned for power, and I Skated away.

He probably thought I couldn’t hear it, but I had very, very good hearing. He laughed painfully, but didn’t move for the moment as his army hurriedly started racing towards him. Someone there had to be a healer, and could get him poulticed and stitched up, if nothing else.

“Tremble, She comes…” he whispered to no one in particular, and Tremble’s quillon slapped the hand I held back to her.

---

I passed by the vivus-burning greenhag skeleton that was holding the black waters at bay, and strolled out into the remarkably clear pool beyond. There were no posted guards visible, but this was a forest with Fey in it, so the wee ones would be everywhere, watching everything.

I’d have to get better directions than south and east, because that literally meant a quarter of the compass.

Maybe I’d see Brownleaf. Maybe something sapient and stupid would try to ambush me. Maybe I’d just wander around and make a big freaking mess out of stuff until I found the right direction to go, trusting that someone as hugely disruptive as I was to Fate would find myself in the mess of things soon enough.

Mmm. I still needed so much goldweight… maybe I should go dragon hunting…