"Skyl, you still haven't told me what you came to the Lands Between for."
Millicent sat beside the campfire with her knees drawn to her chest, watching Skyl tend a small pot of steaming stew. Through the rising vapor, his face looked indistinct, almost like the weathered statue of some god glimpsed through incense smoke.
"I was passing through. I originally planned to visit Eru Ilúvatar and discuss the architecture of the Silver Tree's network with him, but since I was nearby, I decided to come see you. You know I'm an excellent diviner. I sensed you were in danger, so I rushed over to save the day. What do you think? Feeling touched?"
The moment Skyl opened his mouth, all traces of solemnity disappeared. Even his eyes seemed warmer and more alive.
Millicent stared absently at his face before softly saying, "Of course. I'm grateful that you appeared in my life, no matter when or where."
"That line you used earlier was pretty good. Did you come up with it yourself?" Skyl asked casually. He sampled the broth with a small silver spoon to check the seasoning. Dinner tonight was beef short ribs stewed with tomatoes and potatoes, an almost absurdly domestic sight amid Elphael's grim and murderous atmosphere.
"Which line?"
"'Learn what it means to face Skyl's blade.'"
"So you were there." Millicent looked slightly embarrassed. "I'll work hard to become worthy of that title."
"You don't need to push yourself that hard. There's nothing wrong with saying it, aside from making me a little embarrassed. For a moment, I wondered whether Malenia had appeared in your dreams and told you to say it."
Skyl ground a little black pepper into the stew for extra flavor. Spices had once been worth fortunes in medieval societies, and although pepper had never literally been worth its weight in gold everywhere, it had certainly been an expensive luxury.
In the Lands Between, spices really were exceedingly rare.
In more peaceful times, a traveler from another world could probably build an impressive fortune simply by importing them.
"Skyl, after I meet Malenia, I'll leave the Lands Between with you. Is that all right?"
"Hiss..."
Skyl reacted as though the hot broth had burned his tongue.
"Did you really feel no ominous premonition whatsoever while saying that?"
"Why would I?"
"It's human nature. The more hope you place in the future, the worse it hurts if that future never comes. Saying what you'll do afterward when you're about to face something this uncertain is practically begging for something to go wrong. What if..."
"Skyl, what could possibly go wrong?"
Millicent rested the side of her face against her knees. Her smile was almost tender.
"You're here."
"Heh! You've gotten awfully bold, young lady. What if I decide you're taking advantage of me? What if, at the crucial moment, I simply stand aside and let you die?"
"That would be fine too. A weapon loses all value the moment its owner discards it. Once I've fulfilled my purpose, my life will no longer matter."
Skyl immediately developed a headache.
"You, Melina... why do all the good women in the Lands Between insist on treating yourselves like disposable tools? Anyone listening to you would think I'd wandered into some military drama where everyone believes the mission matters more than their own life.
"Then I'll tell you the same thing, Millicent. You weren't born to fulfill some mission. The value of life comes from finding meaning for yourself. Never convince yourself that you're worthless. I saved you so you could live a complete life, not so you could exist for a single day and then throw yourself away."
"Then consider me foolish, Skyl. Clever people worry about preserving their lives, but there are many things in this world that can only be accomplished because someone is willing to sacrifice themselves. I don't want to waste my time searching for some grand meaning to life. If choosing one person to devote myself to gives my heart certainty, that is enough. I only need to live for you and fight for you. Then I don't have to trouble myself with anything else."
"That makes you sound almost like a house-elf."
"You mean Gally. He sees you as his true master because that is the kind of gentle person you are."
Millicent lowered her knees and shifted into a kneeling position in front of Skyl.
"Skyl... become my master."
For all the calm she displayed, she probably was not nearly as composed as she appeared. There was a faint tremor in her voice.
It made no sense.
Millicent's Charisma was only twelve.
Her words should not have been this dangerously persuasive.
"...Well, whatever else happens, eat your soup first."
Skyl filled a bowl to the brim and handed it to her.
He had originally intended to have a drink with dinner, but after reconsidering, he decided against it.
Millicent was an exceptionally straightforward woman. She never hinted or played games. She simply threw everything directly at him, and unfortunately, the things she said were exactly the sort that could produce very serious misunderstandings.
After dinner, they slept soundly.
When sunlight once again reached Elphael, Millicent set out for the roots of the Haligtree to confront Malenia.
This time, Skyl accompanied her.
There were Kindred of Rot everywhere along the way. What should have been a sacred city built within the Haligtree had become so infested with insects that it resembled an enormous cockroach nest.
"I've had enough of these things. Fine, extermination it is. Fireball!"
From a distance, Skyl spotted a large gathering of Kindred of Rot inside a chapel. He did not particularly care whether he might accidentally destroy the elevator leading downward and immediately began hurling Fireballs inside.
A single Fireball dealt 8d6 fire damage throughout a twenty-foot-radius sphere. The Kindred of Rot were especially vulnerable to fire. One blast left them half-dead.
Two made them extra crispy.
Skyl stood on the chapel roof and dropped Fireballs through the skylight.
He had the high ground.
The advantage was considerable.
Dozens of fireballs erupted inside the small chapel. Repeated shock waves eventually blew the heavy doors completely off their hinges.
When the flames finally died and the drifting ash settled, Millicent looked delighted at the carpet of roasted insects covering the floor.
"That is exactly what they deserve!"
The chapel looked like it had survived the world's worst block-party barbecue. Kindred of Rot from the surrounding area rushed toward the commotion, only to mill uselessly around outside like emergency crews that had arrived after everything was already over.
By then, Skyl and Millicent were already riding the elevator hidden behind the chapel's altar downward.
The roots of the Haligtree.
Beyond a towering doorway lay a valley carpeted with tiny white flowers.
The base of Miquella's Haligtree stood there. Its thick, powerful trunk had been permeated by the Empyrean's power until its growth had taken on a vaguely human shape. One could just make out the form of a young boy with long hair.
Beneath the tree, seated upon a narrow high-backed chair, was a woman in red.
Malenia.
Scarlet Rot had spread across her entire body. Pale, grayish growths covered her face from forehead to the bridge of her nose, and the disease had already destroyed her eyes. Yet even her ruined features could not diminish the fierce majesty she radiated.
Her curling red hair fell all the way to her waist, like a waterfall of blood.
The footsteps of the intruders awakened Malenia from her slumber.
She turned her face toward them.
Her voice emerged as a quiet murmur.
"...I dreamed for so long. I dreamed of gold losing its luster, of blood surrendering to rot... of countless bodies piling upon one another while I waited for his return..."
Malenia bent down and picked up the prosthetic arm fashioned from Unalloyed Gold.
She fitted it into the ruined socket of her right shoulder.
The long blade attached to the prosthesis was almost as tall as she was. Raised beside her body, it resembled a single metallic wing, one seemingly capable of cutting the sun from the sky.
"...Then come. Learn why I, Malenia, Blade of Miquella, have never known defeat."
Mountains of corpses.
Rivers of blood.
An army marching through a frozen wasteland.
That was the impression she created simply by standing there.
Skyl said nothing.
He waited for Millicent to speak with her.
Exactly.
Go on, Millicent.
Talk to her. Establish that little family connection between you. Return the pride and dignity you came here to deliver, complete your mission, and then everyone could sit down like reasonable people and discuss how to rescue Miquella.
Afterward, they could go beat the hell out of that creep Mohg.
Millicent drew her Shamshir.
Her voice was gentle yet unwavering.
"Malenia. I am Millicent, Blade of Skyl."
She raised her sword.
"And I, too, have never known defeat."
Skyl helplessly shook his head.
Of course.
Two crazy swordswomen.
Why talk things through when you could apparently communicate perfectly well by trying to stab each other?
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