Wetland Apprentice
Familiar of Zero/Queen's Blade.

Chapter 2-The Swamp and the Prince.

/...

Airi pushed opened the obsidian doors that were carved with murals depicting a thousand blasphemies and atrocities committed by the Netherworld, each one doing their level best to outshine his predecessor in depravity and ingenuity, As her black buckle shoes knocked against the stone floor covered in a layer of mist, Airi's eyes narrowed in distaste at the latest minion here to debase himself before her mistress, a stout troll wearing a leather executioner's mask that covered the top of his face in a hood. The only living species that thrived in the Swamp, the Swamp Trolls, their greenish brown skin that resembled the brackish water and mud of the Swamp and resembling a rotund ball of flesh with stubby limbs. Along with their penchant for violence, crime and gleeful participation in the slave trade, Swamp Trolls are despised by almost all races in the Continent. Dogura, the one who is currently presenting himself before her mistress today, was a particularly revolting specimen since he had come to dominate the trafficking of slaves throughout the Continent and between Hinomoto. Meena, herself a particularly vicious wraith standing to the left of the Swamp Witch's throne showed nothing but contempt on her face for the slaver who is currently showing off a new shock collar to her mistress.

"The leather straps to the collar deliver a jolt of lighting straight to the nether regions of the slave, causing her to lose control of her functions. That it sets off the nerves dictating the pleasure reactions from brain to body helps to break the slave into associating pain with pleasure and ensures a good docile pet!"

Airi started to grind her teeth in fury at the nasally tone of Dogura describing in further details on how to housebreak the merchandise he had procured for her mistress and found herself summoning her scythe when the troll started on the Witch's apprentice.

"That little pink spitfire that Milady Witch had brought from that other world? She would make a fine test subject for this new collar." The lurid grin, eyes flashing with greed and the rubbing hands had Airi fuming while she gripped her scythe. The ruby lips of the Swamp Witch, once sporting a lazy smile thinned into a line at the suggestion from the slaver. Dogura's rotund figure began shaking as he recognised the displeasure from Werbellia and the troll fell onto his back, attempting to crawl away from the vermillion throne. A single strangled squeak escaped from the thin, green lips of Dogura before he found himself engulfed in black fire.

"Training and discipline of my apprentice is to be left to me alone, troll." Werbellia growled, the low tones of her voice coupled with the screams of pain and the shrieks for mercy sending shivers up the back of Airi. "You will leave her alone and never make the mistake of mentioning my apprentice in the same breath as mere chattel."

The infernal flames died, and a wave of mocking giggling swept through the shadowy figures haunting the hall. Airi held her nose at the offensive stench of burnt flesh mixed with sweat and other fluid leaking from the charred figure of Dogura. Surprisingly, the rotund figure's chest was still moving.

"If the Mistress if feeling merciful today, perhaps I can get what I came for." Airi thought as she saw Werbellia dismissed the troll from her presence with a sweep of her hand, several thinner trolls dashing from the darkness to drag their leader out of the Witch's hall. As she noted absentmindedly the trails of burnt skin and trail of some mystery liquid left behind by the dragged troll, Airi felt a jolt of pain as she felt leathered hands cup her chin and another slide into her blouse, her knees beginning to buckle as the nibbling on her earlobes caused her mind to go blank from the distraction. The wraith felt her cheeks heating up, but she managed to gasp out her request that she came here to plead for.

"Lady Witch, please hear from the request of your humble servant." A hum from her mistress and Airi pressed on with her petition, ignoring the tickling sensation on her back as the Witch traced a finger on her spine.

"The young offworld mage, Louise Vallière." The nibbling and groping from her demonic mistress stopped, but Airi continued even as she felt her stomach sinking from panic. "Please, release her from the Swamp."

A small chuckle, then it built into a roaring laughter as the Swamp Witch shook from the plea of her wraith. Airi dropped her scythe as she felt the leathered hands of Werbellia sink their claws into her arms, blooding flowing from the punctures. Her mistress whirled to her front and Airi felt herself being carried and pinned against a wall. Hungry pink eyes devoured her as the gaze of her mistress drank in the sight of Air's quivering body, while the pale cheeks of the Witch nearly split as ruby lips widened into a malevolent grin. The wraith maid felt the breath of the Witch, her nose barely an inch from her own as she drawled out her verdict.

"Dear Airi. How cute of you to seek forgiveness after you have already did my will by releasing my precious apprentice." The wraith's mind was clouded by a fog of sensation thanks to the ministrations of her mistress who was now chewing on her bared shoulders. But she was still able to discern one thing. In hindsight, Airi ought to have anticipated it. Nothing happens in the Swamp without the knowledge of her mistress, so her being able to fly and carry the young mage out of the boundaries of the Swamp unmolested should have informed her that the Witch was letting Louise go. So why did the Witch allow her apprentice to be sprung?

"Service me, my lovely Airi." The maid felt the strong hand of her mistress pressing her head down.

Duty calls, Airi will have to sate her curiosity at a later date.

/...

Louise Vallière trod along the dirt path lined with forest on one side and a sloping hill on the other with caution, her eyes scanning the road for any possibility of an ambush by bandits or the servants of her instructor. The pink mage shivered as she recalled the torture sessions that the Swamp Witch called lessons or training. Twisting her body into abominations of limbs, faces that grew on her chest, thighs and back, making her forehead pop out a third eye. Having demons summoned from the Demon's Gate to possess her and attempt to extract what her tormentor refers to as that peculiar magic when the Witch got particularly frustrated. That demoness had done all that and more but despite everything the Witch tried, the only thing she casts were still explosions. Divining the future? Exploding cards, crystal balls and oracle bones. Animating the dead through foul necromancy? Again, more exploded corpses and ghosts that wailed as their forms were smashed by the resultant explosion. It inevitably led to punishment, but Louise took no small measure of pride that she managed to deny something that the hag so desired. It was one of the few bright spots in her life when she was left alone in that gilded room with the warm blankets and soft mattress.

Louise held her black mantle closer together as she felt the biting wind beat against her. Her pink hair was drenched, and the foul smell of the wetland still clung onto her like one of the wraiths that haunted the Swamp. The delicate shirt and pants that she wore back when she was seized from the Academy had long rotted away from the abuse she suffered at the hands of the Witch, and Louise thanked the Founder she was wearing sturdy, travelling boots when she conducted the summoning ritual. She wore the lacy black-white blouse and skirt that the wraith maids wore, or at least pretended to wear. Louise had seen how the clothes will disappear and reappear according to the strength and presence of the Infernal Temptresses. The thin material wore by the maids offered little protection from the elements, and Louise swore that the fall wasn't supposed to be quite so cold. At least, Louise believes it to be autumn if the red leaves on the few trees she found outside the boundaries of the Swamp are any indication. At least the mantle given by the Swamp Witch was actually very good and blocking out the chill.

Louise thought of screaming out her frustrations as she continued to walk the path to nowhere, her worries and wild thoughts as the lack of a companion drove her stir-crazy. During the month in her room, she barely spoke to anyone at all. She didn't speak to the maids when they taunted or even struck her, nor did she respond to the whispers she heard when she laid in the darkness, exhausted from the day. Louise knew better than to speak to evil spirits, who will inevitably lure her from the righteous path of the Founder Brimir and the Church's teachings. Only when the Swamp Witch had thoroughly worked her over, often times lashing out through gritted teeth did Louise deign to answer her questions. She would allow herself a small smile when the Witch inevitably dominates her body and make her speak, revelling in the meaningless victory.

Of course, that her cheeks will inevitably be split open to her ears by the Witch will have her howling in pain, but Louise was determined to make things as difficult for him captor as possible. She had one trump card after all.

The Swamp Witch dares not kill her. Despite being able to simply snuff her out and compel her obedience by raising her from the dead, the peculiar magic seemed to be linked to her being alive. If she dies, somehow the Swamp Witch deduced the magic will seek another host. At least, that's what the Swamp Witch believes and this allows the mage over the Swamp Witch a certain amount of leverage.

Louise's eyes perked up as she heard heavy footsteps trampling away in the distance along the path. The footsteps were mostly synchronised and the pink mage could hear feminine voices chatting in Gallian, along with the clanking sounds of armour and weapons. Louise heaved a sigh of relief at the sounds, feeling her ordeal over. Gallians, especially under King Joseph had a reputation of being rather heterodox in keeping the faith, but even potential heretics were better than the undead and demons she was forced to keep company with for the past month or so. Louise rushed forward as fast as her legs can carry her, her heart almost bursting from her chest from the excitement and exertion as she spotted a small company of about seventy soldiers. The company had their backs to the late afternoon sun, causing the young mage to squint as she tried to make out the banner one of the soldiers marching in the front was carrying. As Louise closed the distance, she saw the soldiers dressed in unfamiliar bright red brigandine armour.

The young mage's face fell as she noticed no officers among them carrying wands or swordwands, though the fact that the leading soldier was wearing a mantle caused a small spark of hope to survive. They had not a single musket or any firearm among the company, and Louise wondered with trepidation if she had stumbled upon a group of particularly well-armed band of militia or worse, bandits. That they were all women compounded her worries that they were…unorthodox, but Louise swallowed her worries and pride and hailed for the approaching soldiers.

"Hey, over here. I need help!" The company quickened their pace to approach her, and she frowned at the unfamiliar insignia of two lightning bolts striking the ground that emblazoned the flag they were carrying. She was certainly in a foreign, far off place. Maybe even beyond the Desert and Rub-Al-Khali? Sure enough, the entire company was made up of women soldiers, but at least from their posture and the way they handled their arms Louise was satisfied they at least carried themselves like soldiers. There was also the added comfort that female soldiers were not about to demand certain payment in exchange for their aid. The leading soldier with the brown mantle, likely their officer approached her warily, arm resting on her sword while she notice several archers notching their arrows onto their bows. Louise kept her hand close to the wand strapped onto a belt on her skirt, her nerves almost fraying at the intensity of the situation.

The red clad officer was a sturdy woman, tanned skin with shoulder length brown hair and blue eyes. Both mage and soldier sized each other up at a distance of hundred paces apart, before the red clad soldier shouted the first question.

"I am Lieutenant Kiley of the Queen's Army, 24th Army Corp. Who might you be stranger?" Louie noted with some satisfaction that the tone of this Kiley was guarded, but not openly hostile. Louise struggled for a moment to find the words, the month of giving mostly monosyllabic answers taking a toll on her ability to speak normally.

"I am Louise Vallière, of the Kingdom of Tristain. I request shelter, food and a way home." The soldier shot Louise an even, questioning look and the mage decided that he needed more convincing. "I am a daughter of a duke. I can assure you that my family will be very grateful for you and your soldiers' assistance."

"Tristain? I'm afraid I've never heard of that place before, Miss Vallière. Where did you come from before you met us here?" Louise frowned at the implication that she was in a place so far from home, but dutifully pointed towards the Swamp where she came from. "A maid by the name of Airi helped me to escape from a…kidnapper." Louise decided it was best not to bring up the name of the Swamp Witch before she got more knowledge of how the locals reacted to the mention of her captor's name. Wouldn't do her much good to be lynched in a frenzy of superstitious mania.

Lieutenant Kiley rubbed her chin while looking her over, before drawing a sword in one swift motion and placing the edge against her neck. Louise was left dumbfounded by the sudden swiftness at which the solider had both drawn her weapon and cleared a distance of a hundred paces in the blink of an eye. Just as quickly, another three soldiers from her company rushed over to the aid of their officer, one of them brandishing a rope which was used to bind her while another relieved her of her wand. Louise felt someone pull her by the hair as she stared into the hard eyes of Kiley.

"So you're either a foreign spy, an undead from the Swamp or a spy from the Kreutz foolish enough to mention the name of personal maid of Alphonse Kreutz." The red clad soldier clicked her tongue in annoyance while she fiddled with her wand. "Either way, you're coming with…."

The sentence of the officer was cut short forever as an arrow whistled through the air and pierced the helmet of Kiley, with a dozen more sticking themselves into the back and sides of her. A loud roar tore shook her, male and female voices together in a massive cry before Louse saw a knight clad in splendid silver armour, an olive green mantle and a blue tabard emblazoned with the yellow fleur-de-flis. The mysterious knight ran through the arrow ridden figure of Kiley with a lance on top of a glowing blue steed with a burning mane and the hand holding up Louise's head let go of her and she fell face down into the dirt. Louise felt the ground rumble as she heard screams and curses break out, the clanging of metal against the wood of shields and the harried neighing of horses.

"It's Alphonse Kreutz! Kill him!" Louise assumed that the person screaming was from the so-called Queen's Army, considering it was a female voice. Face down and squirming with her limbs bound, Louise felt helpless as the carnage unfolded around her. The mage controlled her breathing to prevent panic from overwhelming her as her mind compensated the darkness she was seeing with increasingly exaggerated images of the violence around her. Much of the violence was uncomfortably similar to the torture she had experienced when she was a prisoner of the Swamp Witch. The fighting soon died down, but Louise felt a chill as she heard the sound of steel entering flesh and the death screams of someone being delivered the coup de grace. Despite being face down, Louise closed her eyes shut when she felt a pair of hands touch her arms before she felt herself being hauled straight up into a sitting positon. She felt a knife reaching under the ropes, and her heart stopped for a moment as she recalled the violence not long ago before the ropes were cut open. Massaging her wrists, the young mage blinked to get the spots out of her vision before she saw her saviour.

"Calm yourself Louise! You're betrothed to Lord Wardes.!"

Louise felt her cheeks burning from embarrassment as she realised she had blurted out those words meant as an internal monologue out loud. But the man before her was a dashing Adonis straight out of the plays and novels she read when younger. Flawless skin, curling, long lavender hair and sculpted chin and nose with full luscious lips with full cheeks. Crystal blue eyes looked at her, mirth evident in them as strong hands helped her to her feet, brushing off the dirt on her clothes. Oh if only she wasn't betrothed! The young mage felt her heart thumping from the close proximity of the knight with her, her nose taking in the wonderful scent of lavender and lily. Perhaps the perfume of his mother?

"I am Alphonse Alain von Kreutz, son of the Margrave Kreutz." Louise felt herself swooning from the gentle, cultured tones of her saviour and barely managed to prevent herself from squealing in delight as the dashing knight kissed her hand.

"Now, milady. What's this I hear of my maid Airi rescuing you from a kidnapper in the Swamp?"

...

A/N. I'm actually continuing this. Surprise even myself. Please leave any comments or questions. Thanks for reading.