Legacy of the Plains: Act 1, Chapter 19

Ludmila took a deep breath before stepping out from behind the hedge surrounding Corelyn manor. In the fading twilight, the magical lighting at the gate cast a lonely glow over the two footmen standing guard. She relaxed when seeing that, rather than any members of the Corelyn Household that had long known her, two Death Knights occupied their stations.

Like herself, Clara was more practical about the use of the Undead – not only were the Death Knights far stronger than any of her Human footmen, but they had Darkvision, would not grow tired over the long and monotonous night watch, and there was little chance of frightening away any visitors past sunset.

The nearest one turned its attention to her as she walked up the lane towards them.

"Baroness Zahradnik," she said, "here to see Countess Corelyn."

She waited quietly, checking over her dress. Though prodded forward by Nabe's statement, her nervousness had her make her way from Warden's Vale at a slower pace than usual. No matter how much time she bought for herself by delaying her journey, however, Ludmila failed to dispel her worries.

The banner of House Corelyn fluttered over the manor's front entrance as the Death Knight returned with a Human member of the household. Ludmila fixed her expression.

"Good evening, Miss Aramis," she said. "I am sorry to have come unannounced so late in the evening."

Taiya Aramis – Clara's lady's maid – was adorned in a light nightgown, and she clutched a shawl around her shoulders. In hindsight, Ludmila should have called ahead but her mind was worn ragged by worry and doubt.

"Good evening, Lady Zahradnik," Taiya returned Ludmila's greeting with a curtsey and a warm smile. "It has been such a long time since you last visited. We are so happy to see you again."

A cold trickle of guilt suffused into her being at Taiya's words. She was supposed to stay the night with Clara once a week, barring those days when their duties called them away. Even when she was at home, however, Ludmila only made excuses to stay away. She was disgusted with how she was treating her friend, yet the tumultuous emotions that plagued her new existence outweighed her self-loathing.

She followed Taiya into the manor, through the open foyer and up the stairs to the second floor. Warm light glowed over the polished wooden floor. Aromas of hospitality lingered in the air: familiar scents that brought back memories of their childhood together. At the end of the long hall was a pair of solid double doors where the lord of the manor would usually stay, but they stopped at another one halfway there. Taiya gave it a light knock.

"My lady," she said, "I have brought Lady Zahradnik to see you."

From within the room came the faint rustling of paper.

"Please, come in."

Taiya opened the way and stepped aside. Ludmila made her way tentatively across the threshold, her nervous gaze flickering around the room.

Wrapped in a robe of House Corelyn's cobalt blue, Clara was seated on one of the couch chairs before a small centre table. She was still trying to put away the folders and documents around her, and a large binder was wedged between herself and one of the arms of her seat.

"Shall I prepare refreshments, my lady?" Taiya asked.

Clara glanced over at Ludmila, who shook her head slightly in return. She dismissed her lady's maid, and the door closed behind Taiya with a soft click. Ludmila went to the other seat at the table, which was placed next to Clara's. Ludmila moved the tall stack of folders upon it to clear a space for herself.

"Back from the land of the dead, I see."

Ludmila froze in her steps as the light words drifted over her. She looked over at Clara, who simply returned her glance with a smile. Her friend continued to put away her things as Ludmila settled in her seat. Most of them looked to be reports from the numerous Elder Liches stationed around her demesne.

Each of Corelyn County's fourteen baronies had three Elder Liches. One of them coordinated the security of their territory while the other two worked with the village chiefs to meticulously collect data and maintain the conditions required for the smooth operation of local industries. In addition to her capital of Corelyn Harbour, two other towns had been chartered.

The first was at the border of the Slane Theocracy and the second was built halfway between the border and Corelyn Harbour. Each had an administrative office with another Elder Lich. The offices were responsible for overseeing the respective thirds of the county that each town lay within. Corelyn Harbour's town hall housed three additional Elder Liches who worked tirelessly to organize the collected data into the reports currently scattered around the ruler of Corelyn County.

For Clara, the seemingly endless stream of information took on a form that Ludmila could only partly see. Countess Corelyn's policies and directives were akin to the strokes of a grandmaster artisan, ever seeking the perfection of not only industry and trade, but the cultivation of an entire society that she considered ideal. Clara styled herself a 'gardener' overseeing her 'little plot of land'. To everyone else, she was an inexorable juggernaut beyond Human understanding.

"I just returned from Völkchenheim County," Ludmila said.

"Is that so?" Clara stacked up the last of her things on the table, "Is it something you are permitted to talk about?"

Ludmila recalled nothing that instructed her to stay silent on the matter. They relaxed into their seats as she related her time in Lord Völkchenheim's demesne, including her thoughts on the nature of the 'criminal' that was apprehended.

"This is good news," Clara said with a thoughtful look. "I suspected that Völkchenheim County would be where this sort of thing would start."

"You did?" Ludmila frowned, "What makes you say that?"

"Because Torkel is an excellent noble," Clara told her. "The conditions in his demesne are perfect for this sort of exercise. The eastern territories are all up to the new building standards, and we have additional duties that would be disrupted if something like that happened here. Lord Völkchenheim, on the other hand, is overseeing the transition to the new systems. By necessity, he must also accommodate a much slower shift in culture. His work is crucial, but at the same time, it allows him the time to manage the effects of these small 'crises'. Given his skills, he is the ideal noble for it."

"That's quite the glowing assessment, coming from you."

Clara smirked in response.

"It is the truth," she said. "You have always been busy with one thing or another out there, so I suppose you have not been paying much attention to the workings of the interior. Hm…come to think of it, you probably did not think much of him during your visit, did you?"

"What was there to think about?" Ludmila snorted, "He tries, to be sure, but it is nothing like how far we have come with our territories. We all have our advantages and disadvantages, but there is so much more that he could be doing."

Clara gave her a long look.

"You are doing it again."

"Doing what again?"

"We have discussed this several times before, have we not? Up until recently, the history of House Zahradnik was 'and then it got worse'. As a result, you and your family have always had an eye for problems, almost to the exclusion of everything else."

"It is something of a necessity," Ludmila muttered. "There are always problems, and problems waiting after those problems."

Clara crossed her legs, folding her hands on her lap. Having seen her do this on many occasions, Ludmila steeled herself.

"I am not blaming you for growing up in that sort of situation," Clara told her. "But it does affect the way you see things to this day. You organize life into sets of problems and constantly seek ways to solve them. Being unable to solve problems is a problem in itself. When you run low on problems, you go looking for more because in your experience there should always be more problems. I will bet that it was the vast majority of what you were doing in Völkchenheim County."

Ludmila released a resigned sigh. Clara was far too sharp. Ludmila did try reining in the tendency that her friend described once in a while, but it would inevitably resurface.

"The other end of things suffers as well," Clara continued. "The value that you place in achievements – both those of others and your own – are left by the wayside because you prioritize problems. If you compare the improvements that you have made for yourself or your demesne to others, you only reframe it as another problem to tackle. You wonder how you can ever catch up, think about things that you might be doing wrong, or wonder what can go wrong. Then it leads to every other problem you have to deal with."

"I do not think it is explicitly bad…"

"Self-assessment is not bad. Reexamining one's work is not bad. Competitive instincts and the desire to succeed are not bad, either. Not explicitly. The problem is that you only ever seem to dwell on problems. I might be used to it, but others are not. Half the reason why the House of Lords is scared to death of you is because they think that you are going to tear them to shreds over all of the problems they have been working so hard on to address. When they know so little of you, it is not a very nice thing to be subjected to."

"My subjects do not seem to mind."

Clara let out a small laugh.

"They are your subjects," she said. "Your subjects are exposed to the benefits of your rule on a daily basis. This influences the interpretation of your interactions with them. It is a far cry from being another noble that only sees you attending the House of Lords on rare occasions. Most of what they know of you revolves around being a Frontier Noble and the whole of Fassett County being depopulated overnight. No matter how helpful you think you are being, they will tend to see your problem-oriented stance as an attack."

Her friend's expression softened. She tilted her head as she settled into a more comfortable posture.

"Your demesne is growing, Ludmila. Your future plans involve leading far more people than your family has ever had before. Those people will genuinely respect you for the soundness of your rule, but if you could only work on this part that you keep neglecting, they will truly adore you."

"Lord Völkchenheim's people 'adore' him," Ludmila noted. "It does not appear to help him."

Clara leaned over with a scowl, reaching out to playfully swat at her. Ludmila dodged the attack.

"He would not be as successful as he is if he was not so skilled," Clara huffed. "He is nearly the same age as we are, and he managed to do everything that he has in three-quarters of the time that we have. Anyone else in his position would have given up and begged for mercy instead."

"Even you?"

"Except for me," Clara rolled her eyes. "The Prime Minister likes using my work to prod the other nobles forward, but I suspect that she mostly does it to watch everyone squirm. Realistically speaking, it should take the entire Sorcerous Kingdom about five years to stabilize – this includes the integration of the subjugated Demihuman populations."

Clara peered at her suspiciously, and Ludmila grew nervous.

"What?"

"I cannot help but think that you and Lady Albedo are kindred spirits," Clara said. "She does the whole thing with the problems as well. I wonder who is more austere between the two of you."

"I have never met the Prime Minister before."

"She is not much for pleasantries; you can tell that she would rather be discussing work. The only reason she bothers meeting with any of us is to address one problem or the other. Anyway, that is enough about that – we have a lot of catching up to do. I would especially like to hear about your first adventure: I never imagined that it would lead to those statues in front of the city gate."

As the evening wore on, the topics she had fallen behind on wore thin. Ludmila's trepidation threatened to swallow her even as she tried to find the courage to tell Clara what she had become.

Her closest companion had known her for far too long to not notice her unease. Clara's amethyst gaze drifted over Ludmila curiously.

"Was there something else you wished to talk about?" She asked.

Ludmila swallowed as she gripped her skirts nervously. After several long moments, she resolved herself and spoke.

"Clara, there is something I need to tell you."

"I suppose this would be the true reason as to why you have been avoiding me all this time?"

"I was not avoiding you," Ludmila nearly shouted before catching herself. "Well, I was. But it is not your fault – it…it has something to do with me."

She started to tremble, and she clenched her fists in an effort to force herself still. Clara's expression turned grave.

"To make you quake like that," Clara smirked, "Others would imagine the end of the world is coming, at least. Is there some sickness going around your demesne? Do you need my help? I knew the temples should have sent at least–"

"I died, Clara."

There was a brief pause between them.

"I know I was a mess the first time you told me that," Clara told her, "but I still got used to it."

"I…I stayed dead."

A small furrow appeared over Clara's brow. She reached over and poked Ludmila in the nose. Ludmila flinched away.

"You seem quite lively to me," Clara said.

"I'm serious!"

Clara drew back to regard her with a concerned look.

"Was it Lady Shalltear?"

"Lady Shall…no! No, of course not. I do not know how it happened. I think it was that fight with the Frost Giants that I told you about just now. I died in that avalanche…and then I got up again."

Clara leaned to look at her from side to side.

"I don't see much of a difference," she said. "If anything, you look even better than before. Did Lady Shalltear have anything to say about it?"

"She has no idea what I am," Ludmila shook her head. "I barely know anything about myself now. That is the reason why I stayed away. I do not know what I am or what I am capable of doing. I do not want to hurt anyone, Clara. Most of all you."

Her throat seized, and tears welled up in her eyes. She reached up to wipe them away, but more only came.

"I...I am scared, Clara," she sobbed. "What is going to happen to me? What am I going to do?"

Clara silently rose and padded over to her bed. Her clothes formed a silken puddle at her feet, and then she lay down and pulled the covers over herself.

Ludmila bit her lip. Why did she have to say it like that? Even after weeks of trying to come to terms with herself, she still fell apart. Everything was falling apart. Dejected, she stood and turned to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Clara's voice came from behind her.

"Outside," Ludmila looked over her shoulder. "I do not wish to disturb you any more than I have to."

Clara sat up, fixing her with a stern look.

"Nonsense," she said. "Come to bed."

"But–"

"No buts," Clara's voice was firm. "You owe me four nights for each week you have skipped out on, Ludmila Zahradnik."

Several seconds passed between them. Clara's no-nonsense expression faded, replaced by a gentle smile.

Ludmila turned. Her feet brought her forward with desperate steps and she fell into Clara's arms with a cry. A soothing hand stroked her hair as she released all of her pent-up emotions into her friend's breast.

"We can figure this out together," Clara held her close. "No matter what happens, I will always be here for you."