Chương 82: Chapter 81 - New Lands.

Nythera repeated her statement yet again.

"Adaofjgiosjsg dosdgkdosf oakdpofkpogjgsjo?" the old woman rapped her knuckles on her head. She frowned. Nope, never heard anything like this ever before, not even close. One of the younger men walked up, a boulder that dwarfed him in size on one shoulder.

"Ggjiogs fgspdogka aodpkwpka" he spoke to the old women. Farmers with boulders, yup that's completely normal. Thunk Thunk Thunk Her head snapped to the side. Farmers cleared the trees, one swing, one tree. Are those war axes? That axe blade is bigger than my head. Where in Hel am I? Flux-sight shown brightly on these people, revealing much denser flux than typical, no more so than farmer who was casting life magic in the fields, causing crops to sprout with vigour.

Ok, I think I can finally, definitely, say where we are!! The old lady thrust a strange fruit into her hands, the likes of which she had never seen before. The younger farmer strode off with his boulder, before lugging it into a huge pile of similar-sized rocks. This ain't Vathrial, is it? Nope, this is most certainly not Vathrial. We are in fact, not in Vathrial. Nythera backed up slowly, tossing the fruit back into the old ladies basket.

"Adihoafaj sgfogdfi llnczjcnjco" she approached with a look of confusion. She bolted for the treeline. I need to get the Hel out of here. As soon as she made it, Rowen hissed "What happened? Where are we?"

"Let's go, now! This ain't Vathrial" Nythera hissed back, striding down the path.

"Not Vathrial? What do you mean? We went down the wakepath and found The Edge. This has to be Vathrial?" Rowen kept up deftly while Nythera stuttered as she spoke, mind focusing on her footing.

"This is another world, Rowen, we found another blasted world" Nythera nearly tripped on a root, stumbling forward.

"That's not possible… is it?" Rowen muttered to himself. Shouts came from behind.

"Faster Rowen! Keep up, those farmers are strong as shit" Nythera bolted through the woods. He called after her "Nythera, why are we running from them?" head ducking under a branch she sent whipping back.

"It's a camp of fucking delver veterans, no other way to explain it. Half those guys are as strong as Lance" she stopped to catch her breath for a moment, eyes nervously flicking to the woods behind them. A shout sounded from the undergrowth.

"LET'S GO" She hissed and sprinted through the woods for The Edge just to trip on another root. One arm outstretched, Nythera tried to stop her fall and landed on her stump instead. OW Rowen scooped her up under his arm "time to go, princess. If they are as strong as you say, we can't dally here any longer and you are too slow on your own." Nythera spent the walk back fending off branches and leaves away from her face. He's doing this on purpose.

Another branch whacked her in the head, the leaves scraping over her skin and going into her hair. I am going to host Myrraval's first execution after this. Death by kraken for one Rowen Stormbridge. The duo soon arrived before the Edge where Rowen finally set a very disgruntled Nythera down.

"TALVIK" Nythera screamed into the void, eyes glancing behind. The ship breached through the mists, gliding up with grace to where Nythera waited, foot poised on the thin line of grey hyper-dense fluxstone that made up the Edge.

"So you have found the truth of this world, this is only the beginning. Rowen was right to bring you back here, you are not ready" Talvik's condescending voice beamed into her mind. With a leap they were off, Nythera dashing to the console to pull them away from the Edge.

"We should get back to the flux-seas, we need to get you to Stormbridge for healing, that and you have a promise to uphold" Rowen's gaze carried the weight of a mother waiting to dish out punishment to a naughty child.

"Healing? Fuck that" Nythera waved the stump mockingly, smirking at him.

"And etiquette, apparently" he sighed.

"Look Milady, this place isn't going anywhere, new world or not, it does not change that our home is on Myrraval and that you have wounds that would leave most bedridden for months" Rowen pleaded. Should not have made that promise.

"Fine, we go back, but only because I promised to" Nythera grumbled, the ship receded into the fog. He seems oddly unbothered by the discovery of ANOTHER WORLD. Though I suppose to him, Vathrial or not, hardly makes a difference. It's all another world to him. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. A cluster of flux-bright lifeforms broke out of the treeline, hovering right by the Edge. The farmers had tracked them back. Uh oh, can they see us?

"AGGSKFDSLGDFHDFGLADPFLPYIEWE" Shouting echoed in their direction, Rowen's head whipped back to the Edge, but mists already obscured it from view.

"We are going to need to get a translation artifact or a professional, do you have any way of deciphering their meaning?" Rowen asked, leaning against the mast.

"I have one skill for extinct languages, don't think that will do me much good, does Stormbridge have a translator professional?" Nythera lounged against the stern as they glided forth towards the wakepath.

"No, we don't run into much beyond standard Greymereian. I'll see what I can do, I might have another way around the issue" Rowen's voice petered out as he got lost in thought, staring deep into the mists.

"I wonder" Nythera whispered to herself "are the flux-seas some kind of nexus between worlds? Do all the wakepaths lead to new lands?" The powerbase one could build here, its unthinkable, the bridge between worlds. The perfect place to build my empire, and one day launch my revenge on Tianshiang. One day. The Sea Empress soon reached the flux-seas, coasting over the mostly-sunk corpse of Obros-ka. Within hours as the sunlight dimmed, Stormbridge Estate came into sight, a spot of light against the sea cliffs.

She brought the ship deftly into port, wincing as the sound of water entering came from the lower decks. Dockhands had the ship tied off in minutes.

"Milord, Milday" A gruffy-looking man hopped aboard.

"Good, get a woodmancer here, have a look and fix anything critical that could sink her in port, and there's several holes in the lower deck" Rowen carefully walked Nythera down the gangplank, ensuring she wouldn't tumble.

"You, get the lift down here and make sure healers are ready at the estate, our Queen is injured" Rowen snapped his fingers at a runner boy.

"Yes milord, certainly" he bounded off towards the cliffs. Within minutes they were boarding a lift, several guards in chainmail accompanying them, and a field medic trying to dress her wounds.

"Lets get these bandages off, I am worried that your Health did not properly mend such a wound. What's her constitution at?" he worked fast, with years of experience shining through.

"My constitution? Its at-" Nythera began.

"That's classified information, just get some basic healing on her and we'll do the rest in the estate" Rowen cut her off. Her escort pushed them out of the lift and had them rapidly advance through the gates. Nythera was brought into a wing of the castle and pushed down into a bed.

"Alright Nythera, the wards should be good here, we need your constitution now" Rowen said, shutting the door with only the healer inside.

"It's 147, is that a problem?" she asked. The healer's face said it was, scrunching up into a deep frown "I might be able to gradually regrow it if she was above 300, but at sub 200, I won't be able to do much more than reinforce the end of it." Rowen nodded "Do what you can, the stronger it is, the better she can use a prosthetic, I'll see what our runescribe can do about it" he darted out the door.

"Alright miss, lie down and relax. How long has it been since you lost the arm?" His voice was oddly soothing.

"Maybe half a day?" she said, suddenly realizing how exhausted she was.

"That's a long time, alright drink this" he brought a cup of white-ish liquid to her mouth, it tasted sweet.

"Sleep well, I'll do what I can" his voice faded out with her mind. … Bloody fuck, I really did kill that thing didn't I? And then I found a new world. Her eyes opened slowly, revealing the quiet, dark room. She tried to pull the bedsheets off, and found her stump, unbandaged and significantly cleaner looking. Welp, I should probably find a way to attach something to the end of this. Her stomach rumbled.

"Hey, anyone got food?" Nythera shouted at the door. It clicked, a guard stood in the doorframe "Yes Milady? Anything you require?"

"Food, a lot of meat and your finest alcohol" she said with the most serious face she could pull off. He hesitated "let me inform the lord that you have woken" and shut the door. I am not getting that alcohol, am I? She did not have to wait long.

"Nythera, you've mended somewhat, but that stump doesn't seem much better" Rowen pushed open the door. An older man with torn robes followed, a large box cradled in his arms.

"Rowen, is there anything good to drink around here?" She whined. He shot her a raised eyebrow "Drink? I've got something better" he gestured at the old man. He sat before her and opened the box, from inside he brought out a strange mechanical arm, gaps shown through the metalwork, which was laced in dozens of runic scripts. This ain't alcohol or food, but it'll do for now.

Rowen had a huge smirk on his face "this is the finest mechanical arm we could craft you, it is capable of some movement and holding things" he puffed his with pride.

"Rowen, thank you for the arm" Nythera tried to look grateful. I wanted a drinking glass or a shiv, this might actually get in the way if I can cast cannon arm through my stump. With a click the arm sat dangling off her stump, the old runist set about preparing to bind the attachment.

"Father has informed me you will need a higher strata healer than what Myrraval has. Fortunately with the wakepaths, we might be able to acquire such services for you in the future" Rowen began to pace through the room. The arcane whispers of the old man brought the scripts on the arm to life, the device began to shimmy itself into a perfect fit on her stump.

"Of course your education and lessons here will take precedence while you recover, you do owe me that much. But after, we can continue our explorations, in fact, Father was extremely alarmed when I informed him about what we just found" Rowen paused, going quiet. He looked towards the windows.

"He dropped his coffee. I have never, in all of my years at Stormbridge, seen my father so bothered before" Rowen murmured, half to himself.

"Rowen, we need to inform people but let's wait till I-AAAAAAAA" Nythera shouted and sucked air in through her teeth. This feels so fucking weird. The tingly sensation radiated from her stump, the scripts flaring to life and bridging the gap of metal and flesh. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air.

"Yes, I thought you might. I heard bindings are a strange process indeed. Well, I will leave you to recover, for the next few days you will stay in here" Rowen guided the runist out. His head snapped back as the door shut "If you so much as try to run, know many of the guards are strata two, you won't make it three feet." Thump Her new metal arm had only three fingers, though by flexing the flux in her body she could get them to close or open. The fingers could also pivot to the right or left, but only so far.

I'm going to look like a wacko with this attached. I should keep it hidden most of the time. I've probably got a few weeks here at the least, I bet I can bribe the runist to make me a drinking arm or something more useful. The days drifted by, Nythera mending rapidly and set about learning the ways of nobility. Days turned to weeks and in spite of her reluctance, she learned basic etiquette.