Chronicles of a Royal Pet: A Princess and an Ooze (Royal Ooze Chronicles Book 1)

by Ian Rodgers

  “Come on, Jelly! We don’t want to be late for history,” Liliana said kindly as she reached down and patted my head. I burbled happily in agreement, and oozed on after her. I wondered what todays lesson would be about?

  A trio of figures moved through the pre-evening crowds of Sanc Aldet’s central plaza. They were ordinary looking humans, consisting of two men in their twenties and an older woman in her mid-forties. Clad in simple brown traveling cloaks with lowered hoods they attracted no attention, and since they had no visible or badly concealed weapons the City Guard paid them no heed. All in all the group was, to an outsider looking in, a mother and two sons out shopping.

  But the three figures had sharp, focused eyes that watched everything, and they seemed to communicate without a word or sound uttered to the others. Their gazes were fit more for adventurers or mercenaries used to the sight of death and suffering.

  They moved silently and swiftly though, their footsteps leaving no sounds or marks, even in the puddles of brackish water here and there or the heaps of garbage on the corners. Up flights of steps and steep ramps they tread, moving up to the elevated Purple District. The trio shied away from straying too close to the Divine Family’s cathedral, but made it look as if it were a natural avoidance rather than a deliberate aversion.

  Through much better kept streets they slipped, before sliding into the shadows of an impressive restaurant. The scents of spices and cooking meat were pleasant, and masked what happened next.

  First, one of the young men doubled over and clutched his stomach before spewing out torrents of blood onto the cobblestones. However, the liquid did not stay put and lashed out, wrapping around the trio’s cloaks and stained them red while bestowing them with corrupt blessings. Thanks to the restaurant, the coppery tang of blood was hidden from any wandering noses.

  As the first man wiped blood from his lips with the back of his hand the second bared his arms and winced as black bones ruptured the flesh and formed elongated knives and short swords. As the weapons appeared the scent of rotten wood filled the air. The older woman and bloody lipped man reached out wordlessly and dragged the weapons from their comrade’s limbs, squelching sounds faintly echoing in the air. The man’s arms fell limp at his sides, before the flesh writhed as something squirmed below the surface and the bones were restored.

  Lastly, the sole woman of the group reached into the depths of her cloak and removed a small, purse like bag. Completely innocent looking, but a mage would be able to detect the magic suffusing it. Opening the bag the woman removed three glossy black masks, each one made of polished obsidian with a pair of eye holes cut into them and several runes of concealment etched onto the surface. They should not have been able to fit in such a small place but the tiny sack was in fact a magical container, a Bag of Holding. A minor one, only able to store a few dozen pounds worth of objects, but easily worth many tens of gold coins. It was sufficient to hide the various tools of their dark trade, and woman passed the masks out to her two partners while placing the last one over her own face.

  The cover of night quickly arrived, and with the winter chill no one who did not have to be out and about dared to brave the dropping temperatures. A perfect time for crime to be committed. The trio looked to each other knowing glances. Each knew what they had to do.

  “For the glory of the Hierophant, who speaks the words of the Void,” the woman intoned.

  “Let his will be done,” her younger companions replied, covering their own faces. The three then flipped their hoods up, and in an instant a chilling aura filled the back alley.

  “Let the world rebel!” The assassins hissed before leaping onto the roof of the restaurant and start to run across the roofs to their destination; the royal dwelling of the Roan family and their abominable pet.

  Chapter 20: crimson and ebony deaths

  “Dinner time!” Liliana cheered, practically skipping down the hallway.

  “Dinner!” Julius echoed, keeping pace beside his sister with a wide smile. Lessons had finally finished for the evening, and the two royal children were walking side by side enjoying each other’s company. I was glad to see that the two of them had such a close and friendly relationship. I’d heard stories about sibling rivalries before, and of course there was the more recent and close to home example of their own father’s traitorous sisters, so it was refreshing to me and the other older servants to see them act so kind to each other.

  Maybe it might sour as they age, but for now it was adorable to see little Julius acting in tandem with his beloved older sister.

  As for myself I was following behind them and their ever present maids, since I was too big to squelch along next to them and I did not want to annoy their maids with my movements or presence. Even though Orleen, my owner’s personal maid, was much more used to me than Julius’ I kept back a bit for her sake. I think the prince’s maid’s name was Jean. She was fairly young, a decade less than Orleen, and was versed in the various arts and tasks she needed to perform but being around Oozes had not been part of the training.

  “Please calm down, your highnesses. I understand you’re relieved after a hard day of studying, but try to maintain a level of decorum,” Orleen begged as Jean nodded her head in silent agreement.

  “Yes, of course Orleen,” Liliana replied, eyes downcast and her tone chastised. She really is a good girl.

  “Oh, and if Jelly breaks another chair I fear your mother will be most displeased,” the maid warned.

  Only Julius chuckled at that. Liliana just rolled her eyes.

  “Yes, yes, it was a mistake! I know he’s been getting bigger recently, you don’t have to keep bringing it up!”

  “I’m only trying to get you to be cautious, my lady. And he isn’t just ‘bigger,’ he’s the size of a hunting dog! This level of growth is not normal. So please do not be surprised when your mother forces Jelly outside to live in a kennel.”

  I gurgled in annoyance at that. But I had to admit I was growing larger much faster recently. My ascension to a Royal Ooze being the likely culprit.

  As we were walking Jean suddenly stiffened and stopped walking. I almost bumped into her because of her abrupt halt. The rest of the party froze in confusion. A second later a blaring alarm started to ring in my head!

  My Danger Sense was going off like mad, klaxons echoing in my mind and I stretched out my perception, whose range had increased drastically after my change. Instantly I detected three objects hurtling towards our position! They were less than a dozen feet away! Outside the walls of the palace, certainly, but how could they move so far into the barrier around the royal dwelling?!

  There were countless wards layered on top of the ancient stones, many of them so old they had been laid millennia ago by the original builders of the castle, and so powerful their effect permeated the very nature of the building, even though the old lode stones and building materials had long ago crumbled to dust and been replaced hundreds of times since.

  How was it then that this trio of rapidly moving figures had gotten through these defenses without detection until just now?!

  That answer has to wait as the invaders slam into the surface of the palace and seem to melt, dissolving into the stones and flowing through the cracks before appearing before us.

  Blood spurted out of the walls, two geysers in front of us and one behind. The thick crimson fluid hurt my ‘eye’ when I tried to look at it, and I soon come to the solution as to how they’d gotten past the fortress-level barriers; dark magic, and lots of it!

  The blood twisted and bent and morphed into dark red bipeds which further solidified and transformed into a trio of people wearing carmine robes with tar black masks covering their faces and clutching ebony hued weapons.

  The cloaks seemed to be saturated with bizarre Dark Element magic with the trait to liquefy the wearer and then reform them. Impressive magical resistance was also woven into their nature. That might be a problem for something like me. They fluttered menacingly in the breeze created
by their owner’s appearance.

  In their grasp each assassin bore a wickedly sharp short sword and knife, one in each hand. They were black as tar like the masks, but had no sheen to them. Further, the blades were writhing with Dark Element magic as well, but of a slightly different sort than the robes. They would tear life force from their victims and give it to their wielders. Lastly the weapons seemed to be made of organic materials of some sort, but I was unable to accurate analyze them thanks to their cursed nature.

  Finally was their masks, which were the secret to their infiltration. Potent runes of hiding and concealment had been scrawled onto the exterior and interior of the mask given the wearer an unparalleled ability to be ignored by living creatures and magical spells designed to keep people out. In the eyes of the spell matrices, the people who wore these masks ‘Did not exist.’ And that was also a part of the curse.

  Each and every one of these enchanted items damned their user. The cloaks would permanently turn their wearer into a puddle of gore if they continuously used the effects. Turned to a pool of immobile blood and bile, but still able to perceive the world.

  The blades would slowly rip and tears at their wielders if they did not take the lives of others. The longer they were held, the more it hurt their owners. Even sheathing them or tossing them away would not stop the life drain. They had to be destroyed or purified, and neither option was easy, for they possessed a hardness rivaling steel and a Darkness akin to a demon.

  Finally, the masks. In exchange for allowing the wearer to hide from anything, the person who put them on slowly was erased. Their own memories and recognition of ‘self’ was eroded, eventually turning them into mindless husks that could only hunt and kill from the shadows. It also melted their faces if removed by anyone but the user, so wearers could not be identified by facial features.

  Alone, each artifact and its curse was heinous enough for summery execution on sight or knowledge of possession. Together, though, these three items made it clear these souls were disposable. Death did not matter to them, for they were already dead men walking.

  Only a few seconds had passed since the trio of assassins had appeared in real time. In that miniscule frame, Orleen had whipped out a pair of long dagger that had been hidden in her stockings and jumped in front of her charges while Jean conjured up a shimmering wall of magical energy between the two royal children and the assassins in the front. As for me, I threatened the assassin who had popped up from behind by growing three waving tentacles and prepared to cast Magic Arrow from their tips if my opponent approached.

  None of these preparations gave the assailants pause. With unnatural dexterity and grace they lunged forward to try and kill us and the targets behind us.

  In a single blow the barrier Jean had created shattered, the pulsing black blade in the left assassin’s grip rending through the magic. The maid did not despair though, as she raised both hands and sent a gale force wind to slam into the duo in front of her. It knocked them back and gave Orleen a chance to leap in front of Princess Liliana and Prince Julius. There was no chance of trying to escape from the front. We were trapped between attackers in the middle of a hall with no doors, windows, or side corridors.

  As for the figure trying to strike me, my first two spells went wide, the assassin skilled enough to dodge them even though they were fired faster than a crossbow bolt at short range. They crashed into the wall and cracked the stone. The third Magic Arrow did land a hit though as it impacted violently onto their right leg, drawing a gush of blood and charred meat. The person, a woman based on her figure that I gleaned from her under her robe, staggered and I took that chance to wrap my appendages around her to try and pin her down.

  It failed though as she flicked her two black weapons in a blur of skilled movements and sliced my tendrils off.

  In the admittedly short time I had lived, I had never really felt pain. When I ate the Poison Ooze, I did not feel the effects of their toxins. When I over exerted myself trying to form my bipedal form and cast magic, it was nothing more than a tingly nuisance. Even when the Triarch Effect ravaged my body and I suffered greatly it was over relatively fast and I was too focused on trying to protect my owner that I barely recall the sensations of agony I should have had. But now, I knew what pain was.

  The curse that dwelt in the blades sent my mana into shock and I froze from the sudden experience of ‘pain.’ My severed limbs flailed around on the floor before melting into a purplish slurry, and the stumps did not instantly regenerate as they should have. I felt a large sliver of mana get torn from me and become assimilated into the cursed weapons.

  Retracting my tentacles, I nursed the stumps with some healing juice. As it turns out, a Royal Ooze secretes powerful healing fluids akin to a Greater Potion of Healing. With Liliana’s help in studying my new abilities, I had discovered this vital trick. Rapidly healing myself with my own body was nice, and I could mend the wounds of others by dribbling it from myself onto them.

  It didn’t seem to work well to counteract the curse’s effects, though. At least, not that quickly. I couldn’t afford to be distracted though, as the crimson robed woman began to slash away at me. Moving my body like a slippery snake I avoided her blows easily. She was talented though and started to mix up her attacks and combine different movements in an attempt to confuse me.

  Slash then stab, feint from a lunge into a fierce upwards cut. Thrust both blades at the same time but have them move aside at the last minute and attack at an angle. Step back once to lure in the opponent, then follow up with a barrage of lethal hits.

  Had I been a guard or one of the lesser knights I would have been dead several times over from her tricks. But I relied on a different set of senses to observe the world, and so when I analyzed her form and read her attacks it was easier for me to dodge. I can see everything at once if I wanted to, and so I did not have to be restricted to a single field of vision like humans or other beings with two eyes.

  Worried about how Orleen and Jean were handling the two other assassins, who looked to be male, I was relieved to see they were holding their own, if only barely. Jean hurled the foes back with bursts of wind and telekinetic shoves while Orleen countered any wayward blows from the dark blades with her enchanted daggers, keeping the cursed weapons away from my owner and her brother.

  But they were faltering. No matter how strong they were, the two of them were still maids, and their combat training was limited. Enough to become a deterrent to a common thief or rapscallion, but against trained killers?

  No matter how much I wanted to help, I could not. For one, the person I was squaring off against was several degrees more powerful than the twins, and could overwhelm Orleen and Jean with ease. I had no choice but to hold off the assassin woman and pray for the maids.

  I wasn’t worried that much though. Alarm charms blared through the castle, activated by the presence of unauthorized Dark magic. The cursed artifacts may have allowed them to pass through the wards around the palace, but now they were drawing the attention of the interior defenses. And drawn by the magical detection spells, dozens of Dire Swords were rushing up to engage the assassins. I knew this thanks to my enhanced senses. Oddly enough Queen Amdora was also running towards the conflict as well with Petrus and her own personal maid Karina in tow. I saw the queen carrying a wand I’d never noticed before, and it glistened with power. I made a mental note to stay away from my owner’s mother if she started swing it around and casting spells.

  “Get away from the prince and princess!” Oh thank the Divine Family! A Dire Sword had appeared from down the corridor in front of the maids and behind the two male assassins. He dashed forward and clashed with one of them, allowing Orleen and Jean to focus solely on the other mysterious killer.

  As for me, I had to keep holding off the woman. My Magic Bolts were slower than her reflexes and I dared not to approach her terrible swords with my bare appendages. So I keep her back and on guard by flinging bolts of magic here and there to make sure
she cannot get close.

  After a few more instances of me blocking her movements she became annoyed at my efforts and decided to just rush through. Crap!

  Her body rippled and her entire form seemed to take on a crimson tint. A coppery tang of blood filled the air, and it was only through my magical senses that I saw what happened to the assassin. The red robe activated its special power and turned its wearer’s body into a semi-liquid state. She attempted to slip past my defenses like this, and to my shame it worked.

  I managed to score a single hit on her left arm as she darted past, but in her blood-form it did nothing as she just reformed, completely unharmed. Even worse was that the wounds I’d inflicted on her earlier in the battle also healed up!

  Growling I lashed out violently, but it did nothing to her impervious body. The assassin retaliated with her blades in response to my pathetic attempts and severed two more of my pseudopods. Warbling in pain I flinched and retracted my stumps into myself. She was too close to my owner! Orleen wouldn’t stand a chance against this woman! And the other guards were still hurrying to arrive!

  In desperation, a crazy thought struck me as I helplessly watched the assassin’s body sway and wobble like blood-scented jam. I jabbed out with one more pseudopod and pierced the hip of the female invader. She didn’t react though as the cloak would protect her from physical damage. If the tentacle had been made for physical attacks, it would have.

  Summon Water! I crafted the basic Cantrip in my mind and activated it on the tip of the limb currently imbedded in the assassin. At once there was a noticeable effect. The enchanted blood turned darker and thicker around the point of penetration, and for the first time the woman let out a noise of shock and pain!