The Chimeric Ascension of Lyudmila Springfield

Chapter Eighty-One: Priming The Rebellious Spirit – Part Two

Knock! Knock! Knock!    

“What is it? I am not to be disturbed!”     

“It concerns the attack on the noble quarters, my lady! New information has come to light!” I hated how my disguised voice sounded. Mila’s was royal and queenly, and this was raspy and coarse, like broken glass.     

“And?! What is it?!” The door flew open to reveal a woman dressed in a nightgown. Guildmaster Thornbrook's optical tentacles stretched wide, although she had regular orange eyes. She looked like a middle-aged woman—except fluid leaked from her liver-spotted pores, making her appear slimy and wet.   

The Slugfolks in Aetos Village had the lower body of a slug. She's different from them, so I wonder if she’s a halfbreed?    

I forced my way in and filled her mouth with my gun.    

“You’re going to shut up and listen to what I have to say. I’m a friend. I’m here to help you. Don’t trust General Blackthorn. The bastard is in cahoots with the chief justice. The general delivered the firesalt bombs personally.” Yes, the general and the chief justice had a meeting today. I’d watched it myself, but it was just about business. But Guildmaster Thornbrook didn’t know what they were talking about. Her mind thought it was related to the attack on the noble quarters since it happened simultaneously.   

“The general wishes to blame the failures of his army on someone else. That's why they want to pin it on you. You hold a monopoly over the mines that supply the general with ore he uses to make his weapons and ships. He’s going to use that to defraud you. In other words, he wants you out of the picture. But I don’t. I need you to remain in control.”    

I didn’t. That was all a lie. But I fleshed out the narrative more by saying information only would know. For example, a journal Tris had copied said the guildmaster was having trouble closing a deal with Terokai for establishing a series of checkpoints between them. On a base level, Tris couldn't compare to the guildmaster in debating economy. But what about after she digested a dozen books hidden within the guildmaster's library? Our wealth of tactics and knowledge expanded tenfold, and she crunched the numbers and solved the logistic issue using the noted supplies penned in the journal's corner.    

“Do you understand?”    

The merchant nodded.     

“Good. The powers that I serve are out of your breadth. I come from a place where there is much money to be made—money only made possible by you. And I know you want it. And I know you desire it. Follow my orders, and you’ll have more wealth than you know what to do with. Trust me. Your life is at stake. We wouldn't be talking if I desired your death. You need me if you wish to survive before the end of the month, and I don't wish to kill you.”    

That was how you did it. You needed fast persuasion to get the correct response out of someone. You needed to make the target feel important. Guildmaster Thornbrook valued her life more than anyone.     

She nodded again. I smiled and removed the gun. If she screamed? That was fine.     

But no.     

She remained quiet. The Slugfolk looked at me with four eyes.     

“I’ll return within the week. Until then, do not trust General Blackthorn or the chief justice. Pretend, then turn your back on them. Of course, you’re free to do the opposite if you wish. If that happens, you're going to die. Ignore this conversation if that's what you want. And not a word of this to Lord Atrix. His…unit must remain secretive. I assumed you understand?”   

She nodded slowly, her eyes becoming wider by the moment.    

“Good. You’re a smart one, so keep at it. And we’ll be watching…every little thing you do. Go against these orders, and I’ll use your corpse as an explicit warning. The future of Atrix is at stake, and we shall stop at nothing to see it thrive for many centuries left to come.”   

I left before she had a chance to reply. I ran down the hall and jumped through the window, transforming into a bird while flying away. Tris said our first target had dropped to her knees and soiled herself from fright.    

I’ll continue to watch her, my lord.    

Okay.  

The first part was done, and it was time to pay the general a visit.     

I flew to his estate and did what I had done before at Guildmaster Thornbrook’s mansion, only I took the form of a random soldier in the military.    

The general was more reserved. He was on guard from the moment I entered. And he was 'strong' at Lv. 64. I could win, but using force wasn’t the play, so I did something else while he held a sword to my neck, letting it taste my lifeblood.      

“Your eyes are tired, general. I imagine you haven't rested more than two hours in the past week.”     

“Surely you didn’t break into my home to state the obvious. How do I know you’re not here to kill my family? Why should I allow you to breathe?” We stood in the hallway. Luckily, there were no soldiers on this floor.     

“Not at all, general. I’m a friend. An ally. I don’t wish you to travel down this path.” I felt his sword dig deeper. General Blackthorn narrowed his eyes. His hands were wrinkled, yet he was still robust. He was once an accomplished fighter and mercenary.     

"You see, General Blackthorn, not long ago, Lord Atrix praised your meticulous planning for the lightning-quick assault on Plymoise. You had it all worked out, every detail scrutinized by the sharpest minds to ensure no flaws were left unchecked. Contracts were awarded, orders dispatched, and conspiracies woven. But alas..."    

General Blackthorn slightly shifted. And I continued.      

"The ploy to eliminate Captain Caulk from the equation failed mysteriously. I cannot say if it's related to the strange occurrences within Ria, but the pirates that were to lure the Hawkfolk… They seized the opportunity amidst the chaos and fulfilled their role. However, their survival was never part of the plan. Once the assassination was completed, the stolen necklace from Lady Plymoise would have sealed their fate."    

“How do you know that?”    

“I know it because I know it. Shall I continue? I’m afraid killing me will mean killing yourself.”    

General Blackthorn nodded.     

“I know you harbored a dislike for the invasion. Something deep down told you that it wasn’t going to work out once your attempt to eliminate Captain Caulk was met with failure. You’re a smart man. You knew this was a turning point for the inevitable war. You knew the correct choice was to reconsider the invasion plans, but no. Bribes were exchanged, secret deals were made, and even the impossible was achieved: Orchta and Wisefolk were swayed to Atrix’s side. You’re still bewildered at how that happened, aren’t you?”    

That was a big deal, honestly. Orchta was where the Wisefolk lived. They were supposed to be incorruptible. I didn’t tell or show the proof to anyone else because I wanted to simmer on this information for a while.    

“I know you suffered cold sweats the night before the mimic was to take Lady Plymoise’s life. And then… It happened. Your ruler ignored your orders and launched the army and navy. But it wasn’t that easy. Reports of the flaming lion emerged from the survivors. None could fathom the sheer power displayed by that creature. How could it single-handedly decimate five drakes and three hippogriffs without faltering? And the High Elf rumored to be its summoner...You were afraid, general. Everyone saw it. You had an uncanny feeling, but everyone brushed you off. They always do that when they want to ignorantly believe their whimsical fantasies rather than embrace the cold, hard truth.”    

I took a moment to look deep into his eyes. fallacies   

"But it's not defeat itself that poses the greatest threat. It's the aftermath we must reckon with. Even the most mediocre theorists could foresee the pushback from our citizens after such an egregious failure. Initially, a few protests could be handled with severed heads, instilling fear to maintain control. However... A new force has emerged—people unafraid, undeterred by our previous tactics. Captain Max has killed children. He ended their lives—cut off their dreams at the source when letting them swing from the gallows. He even ordered his men to place corpses on pikes to serve as warnings. But that didn’t stop them, did they?”    

“…”    

“Face it, general. The people are fed up. They’re tired. And they aren’t scared. Fear cannot quell their passion. The horrible loss still stings their minds. The mothers who lost their sons still cry. If it happened to them… Well, people realize it could happen to them. You have tired, afraid, and traumatized soldiers sitting outside the city walls. What would happen if they were to turn…towards someone else? Someone who wishes to change things? That man isn’t you. It’s someone else, but you could be the man to help bring forth a change. I’m sure you heard about the terrorist attack in the noble quarters. It was orchestrated by the chief justice. He yearns to work for Guildmaster Thornbrook to take control. Everything she had done that was contrary was on purpose. It served to throw others off her scent. But you’re smarter than that. You know the people will need a new leader if Atrix is to continue. You love the city. You love it more than your wife. I can see it in your deep, orange eyes. The one I serve cannot bear to see the city erupt in undeserving flames.”   

The moment the general lowered his sword and whispered the ‘name’ of the group he believed I belonged to? 

The rebellion was in the bag.    

Access to a journal with a man's innermost thoughts enabled you to do amazing things. Better yet, the Citrine Reapers-- at least a few-- truly loved the city more than the man holding the office. It was…some intense nationalism that I didn’t understand—mainly because I didn’t have a home.    

I had people.    

I had my family and loved ones—but nothing definitive to call my one and only home. But I was sure I’d act the same way if I did. I’d be pissed off at the dumbass in charge going against the best advice in the world to wage some bullshit war.    

So, I understood the Citrine Reapers. Even if they kept their discussion to quiet murmurs, Tris had closely examined their body language and mannerisms to deduce their uneasiness.   

The unit’s commander, for example, had hundreds of titles related to farming, hunting, and, in general, living off the land, including a few that suggested he held a heartfelt fondness for nature eclipsing even that of an elf.     

Then again…   

I imagined quite a few were the opposite—they loved the man more than the land. But that shouldn’t be that big of a problem to overcome if the majority thought similarly to their commander.   

I had ideas and backup plans to ensure this rebellion went off without a hitch. 

The general finally sheathed his sword, grabbed a bottle of smoky liquor off the shelf, and then poured two shots.     

“Then what shall I do?” he asked, giving me a glass.     

“Merely listen. What has been put into motion shall not be stopped. You can still alter the forthcoming rebellion to further suit your advantage.”    

“Rebellion?”    

“That’s correct. You can fight what your heart believes in—or you can fight for evil and die with your body tossed in a ditch. I will remain in touch, friend. There are people out there who do not wish to see you dead. The organization I serve…is one of them.” I downed the drink, then bid my goodbye. He merely watched as I left. After closing the door behind me, I dashed through the nearby widow and changed into a bird. I talked to Tris while soaring above the city.    

Cid is still with Ayroix, my lord. He’s filling his head with tales that we have come up with.     

Good. When the fighting starts, it needs to be chaos. We must convince enough soldiers who returned from their failed invasion to fight for Ayroix. Can you develop a suitable plan?    

It’s processing as we speak. Ah, about the other thing… Are you sure you don’t wish to make your presence known?    

Is it a good idea to be known as the orchestrator behind this rebellion?     

I believe it is. The High Elf of Liberation—a woman instrumental in toppling the militaristic regimen of Atrix while defending Plymoise from defeat... The moniker will be beneficial. The benefits may not appear immediately, but they will in due time.      

What about Vredi? Do I leave it out of it?    

Yes.. But if your full name has leaked, those with sharp minds will realize the High Elf of Liberation's identity. But it is worth it, I think.     

I'll trust your judgement. Find a way to organically spread those rumors. 

I had one more stop before moving on to the night's final act. Tris opened a [Skyview] window and showed me a ruined office. Little Gregory had lost it. Bottles, books, chairs, and anything else that wasn’t nailed down had been violently tossed and ravaged, broken by a man teetering with conspiratorial madness.    

The letters Tris had delivered kept getting more specific—to the point that they intimately detailed what he had done in the past twenty to thirty minutes. He was being watched, but he didn’t know where. And that infuriated him so much.     

Chief Justice Darkfeather’s estate—my second-to-last destination— was located some distance away. Atrix was deceptively big. The city was probably 4x bigger than Plymoise, and it held more people.     

But my overall plan was to pit the three against each other. And when the rebellion started, General Blackthorn would naturally ally himself with Ayroix’s rebellion since Blackthorn loved the city. That much was evident in his heartfelt journal. And I’ve seen the way he treated his wife and child. He truly loved them, which was more than what I could say for any of the other two jackasses.     

But the chief justice had no spine. Darkfeather had made so many backhanded deals that he believed I was coming to make one-- earlier, Tris had sent a little letter via a clone foreshadowing my arrival-- the coward pissed and shit himself in his robe while anxiously awaiting me. If someone could slip a letter in his locked room without alerting his guards...

Then, it was probably a good idea to listen to the threatening words demanding him not to make a scene and to patiently wait for the letter's author to arrive. Then again, it had only arrived five short minutes before I ominously knocked at his door. I swore I heard his heart skip a dozen beats.

He probably had the 'scariest' force out of all of them. The people stationed in the noble quarters were loyal to him because of his blackmail, and they were only challenging because he had their wealth at his disposal. Darkfeather believed the note had come from a noble's assassin since he had 'failed' to protect them from the earlier attack on the noble barracks. They were, after all, under his 'protection,' but that didn't amount to shit. I used that fear and made Darkfeather fearful of the guildmaster and general. A coward like him was so easy to mold to your whims... 

I even told him I would solve the terrorist attack on the noble quarters for him, which I did via a clone that had broken off. It was easy to convince a room full of snobbish nobles. They were so used to being pampered that it took a few well-placed compliments to make them believe the Guildmaster Thornbrook and General Blackthorn were responsible. But retaliation wouldn't happen-- not so soon, after all. The clone convinced them that a retaliatory strike would happen once the circumstances were just right.

Before I departed the chief justice’s estate, I told him what I had mentioned to the other two—that the ‘group’ I represented desired to see the city thrive. And it needed an iron talon of justice to see it through.    

You know—to stroke his shitty ego for a little bit and gently ease him into what I needed him to be.    

I closed the door and left through the window, soaring high in the dark skies as an eagle with orange feathers.    

But the night wasn’t yet over. It had been enduring. It felt like an impossible puzzle with four conflicting genres, but Tris poured through the data and couldn’t find anything egregiously wrong.     

Of course, there were improvements to be made. The script wasn’t perfect. And some things with Ayroix could’ve been altered to convince him more easily.     

Now, the potential problem…    

The missing soldiers at the estates I visited.     

Well, that was on purpose. I didn’t want to leave any bodies, but missing people? That was enough to further add truth to my words.     

Seriously, having the powers of a chimera was frightening. Their potential was infinite. But Tris helped a ton.     

But it wasn’t time to rest yet.     

We still had to rake the coals and burn them blisteringly hot.     

And for that to happen…   

I needed to play a few more tricks…   

Only then would this inexhaustible night end, but that did not mean the end of this grand plan.    

It needed many days to fully mature, and we were still in the beginning.