To the east, the town of Summer's Pass was left behind, and above the rivers the trio flew, until a great waterfall was sighted.
CRYSTAL FALLS
Æthelflæd was the one who asked to stop.
She had a new bag full of glass vials and small compartments, almost all empty.
— Rest a bit, I'm going to look for ingredients.
— Going to make a potion? — Leofwynn had a bad feeling. She feared the human's alchemies amounted to nothing but poisons and intoxicants. — If we don't hurry to find a cook, "that" could happen to us. — "That" in this case, with the vulcan pointing upwards, were the asteroid rings that were once three moons.
The asteroid rings created iridescent auroras as dawn broke, coloring the clouds with all hues, but predominantly in green and blue.
— He's been there for eight millennia, he can wait a few more years. — Drinking the last drop from her canteen, Æthelflæd's smile vanished along with the end of the alcohol. — And we got a maid last year, I think that's a decent pace.
— How is one employee per year a good metric? — The vulcan wanted to argue, but the human dove into the underbrush, descending the slope below the waterfall.
Far from there, in the Demon King's Castle, Cynethryth was still sleeping in the morning.
Cwenburg entered the water of the lake below, almost a hundred meters from the top of the waterfall.
The unicorn girl splashed water on the serpent-dragon, who flapped its wings causing a wave in response, in a playful exchange between the two.
After setting up camp, the vulcan dedicated herself to gathering firewood.
In a cave hidden behind the veil of water, Æthelflæd collected moss from the wall and descended the rocks like a natural staircase.
Light penetrated the erosion and was deflected by the ripples outside, creating the illusion that shades of blue moved in luminescent patterns on the walls.
Climbing down, beneath the salts that dripped from cracks in the ceiling of the wide hidden chamber, she found many crystals: dragon agave, ixora, red dracaena, philodendron, and diadem.
There existed a tranquil greenish lake, whose water would serve for future distillations.
Taking the chance to relax, Æthelflæd lay back and floated on the calm waters that slowly carried her towards the center.
In the center of the green lake, she was sucked down, passed through submerged caverns, and was expelled at the final third of the waterfall, falling into the lake with Cwenburg, who was dozing in the water, leaning against the serpent-dragon.
The vulcan, returning around midday, was carrying many branches.
Leofwynn sighed and pretended not to see Æthelflæd naked, scrambling up the waterfall's cliff. After all, the alchemist's clothes were left at the edge of the green lake.
Far from there, Cynethryth was still sleeping in the afternoon.
The maid lay on the floor of one of the castle rooms.
The Demon King himself went to check if she was still alive, and she was, with him returning to his chores with the immortal.
The potato stew was prepared with local herbs, sassafras, paprika, and bay leaf.
The three sat around the campfire, warmed and sweating due to Leofwynn's heat, she devouring everything without looking around.
Cwenburg tasted it when served by the human, a single spoonful, and the blood vomit drenched the ground.
— That reminds me of a great story. — Leofwynn began, laughing a little before continuing. — Back in my land, there was a cook named Bog. He was quite famous, and he was one of those water-men.
— A merman? — Æthelflæd tried to understand, ignoring the fact that the unicorn girl's vomit reminded the vulcan of a "great story."
— No, those other ones, freshwater.
— An amphibian-man?
— That's it, Cwenburg! An amphibian-man. He had gills on his neck. And his whole body was slimy, you know, blue and black skin, dripping something mucous all the time. He was the cook at the Impaled Hawk Tavern. — While Leofwynn laughed alone, Cwenburg went back to eating the potatoes, vomiting more blood, which was ignored by the vulcan raising her voice. — He exuded a sulfuric odor of fermented sludge.
— I don't want to hear this story while I'm eating. — The human protested uselessly, with Leofwynn continuing:
— The problem was his tears. They were the kind that when they fell on the ground, not much was left of whatever they touched. And his eyes teared up a lot because they needed to stay moist with swamp water.
Cwenburg vomited for the third time after a new spoonful of potatoes, and Æthelflæd could no longer not react:
— You don't have to eat this! Don't force yourself, I'll prepare something else for you.
— But it's delicious. — Cwenburg's eyes were full of water. She really seemed to be enjoying the taste.
— Her stomach is sensitive, she always vomits blood when she eats anything, even with water.
— Even water! — Perplexed, Æthelflæd thought of a solution. — I think it's better we look for someone specialized...
— No, all unicorns are like this. — Cwenburg explained, cheeks flushed.
— All of them?
— You should see a unicorn feast. That reminds me of another good story, from the harvest festival. There were about thirty unicorn maids in Cwenburg's village, and there were several tables outdoors, and when they started the feast...
— I don't want to know. — Æthelflæd stood up and went to eat with her back to the two, sitting at the lake's edge, hearing occasional sounds from Cwenburg, with more and more joining the pasty red on the ground.
— Wait, so what happened to Bog? — The human inquired, remembering, and turned to the two sitting side by side, the dusk painting them and the lake pink.
— He died.