Venture into the Witch’s Lair

Adelaide shivered from the chill in the air as she descended the steps down into the lower levels of the castle. She always hated these sections. They were cold and damp and always a little unsettling. A little discomfort, however, was worth it if it meant saving the kingdom.

The purpose of the princess’s quest lay behind a large door of black iron. Inscribed on the surface were runes and markings that made Adelaide feel dizzy when she looked at them too long. This was Celine’s lair.

Adelaide prepared to knock, but before she could, the door swung open without a sound. The sounds of bubbling cauldrons and crackling fires oozed out at her, beckoning her inside.

“Welcome, Princess. I was wondering when you would pay me a visit.”

Celine waited for Adelaide on a throne of polished bones, all which were harvested from some eldritch creature long forgotten. The sorceress had changed into more casual attire — a sleek black robe with a jutting neckline. The witch’s bosom surged out of the opening, forcing a blush from the princess as her eyes landed there.

“Celine, I am here to—“

The sorceress cut her off with a dismissive wave of her slender, manicured hand.

“Let me guess. Your brother is an incompetent little dandy boy who is going to allow the kingdom to burn while he tries to figure whether he should wear satin or fine silks to his coronation party. You, the kind hearted soul that you are, want to save the kingdom — or rather, you want me to save it for you.”

“I would not phrase it quite like that.”

“Of course not. That would require being honest with yourself. Walk with me, princess.”

Celine leaped out of her throne with panther-like agility and beckoned Adelaide further into her quarters.

“Your brother has not even officially become king and he has already worn out my patience. I have seen plenty of foolish rulers in my day, but he may be the worst.”

Adelaide stepped past dozens of odd trinkets, dusty artifacts, and bottled specimens as she struggled to keep up with the sorceress. At one point, the witch paused in front of a large mirror, seeming to see something that Adelaide could not.

The princess blushed again as she was faced with the stark contrast between herself and the sorceress. Adelaide, being of royal blood, was by no means unattractive. Her pale blonde hair flowed past her shoulders like spun gold. She had a good enough figure and a pretty face. Maybe too many freckles, but otherwise she liked it. Still, there were many things she did not like. She was pale. Celine was paler, but her skin was like woven moonlight. Adelaide’s was the product of spending most of her life inside the castle walls battling one illness after another. Adelaide was shorter than anyone else in the royal family, and very slight in build. Her body was frail. Her weakness overshadowed her womanhood. Celine’s beauty was supreme.

“Come along, Princess. No good can come from dwelling on what you cannot control. Besides, I have something to show you.”

Celine led Adelaide to a dead end. In this dead end there many more oddities, the most striking of which was a sizable, bubbling tank filled with glowing green liquid. There was a shadowy object floating inside the tank that Adelaide initially could not make out. Her eyes were drawn to the tank for some reason, even though Celine clearly had something else in mind to show her.

“Unfortunately, there is little either of us can do. The laws of our kingdom stipulate that a male heir must rule. Even if something horrible were to befall our dear king, it would only result in you being married off to some greedy old lecher of a noble.”

“But Dudley is—“

“The laws are clear. Only a male heir. It’s a pity, too. The kingdom is in dire straits. It needs a powerful ruler, strong in mind and body, to lead it to victory. I fear for us all.”

Adelaide felt sick to her stomach. She loved her brother, but she didn’t like him. She hated how foolish and self centered he was. Often, she found herself wishing she had been born a boy. She wasn't trained in battle or strategy, but at least she cared about her people.

“What is it you want to show me?”

“Ah, yes, let me look for it.”

As Celine rummaged through a big heap of objects, a flash of motion caught Adelaide’s eye. Something inside the tank had moved. Celine stepped closer to get a better look.

Suddenly, the occupant of the rushed at the glass closest to Adelaide. With a dull thud, it struck at her. Now she saw it clearly, but what she saw didn’t make any sense.

The tank contained an oblong creature striated with dark black veins. The shaft of the pale green body swelled at one end into a bulbous purple head. Dangling from the base, meanwhile, were two large masses the size of pomegranates. These glowed a brighter green.

“What is that?!”

“Stand back, Princess! That was not for you to see.”

Adelaide obeyed, but repeated her question.

With a heavy sigh, Celine explained.

“This kingdom has faced worse threats than barbarians. This is a remnant of one of those threats. It was once part of an orc.”

“Orcs?” Adelaide shivered as she remembered the horrid tales she had heard of hulking monstrosities powered by black magic.

“Aye, that was once piece of an orc grand chieftain. A massive beast standing nearly eight feet and weighing over seventy stone.”

“But the orcs are all dead. This…thing is still alive.”

“Orcs were much worse than just big brutes. They were more like an infection. The women they impregnated were corrupted by their essence. They would become lascivious creatures, with lustful bodies and a splash of orcishness. Even stranger, orcs could heal wounds that would kill a man. Each part of their bodies was independently alive.”

“That’s horrifying!”

“Indeed. There are even tales of severed orc parts fusing with men, turning them into strange hybrids. Often, these mutants would find themselves compelled to join the horde, their humanity overpowered by the inner orc.”

“What is this thing? Why do you have it?”

“It is the genitals of the orc chieftain. His penis and balls were severed in battle and held as a trophy. As for your second question…let’s call it research. Either way, it does not concern you.”

“What did you want to show me?”

“Ah yes. This! It is an old Turannian battle flag, I think your best course of action is to show this to your brother and hope that he’s inspired to be a better ruler.”

Something inside Adelaide snapped.

“That’s it? A ratty old flag is your best plan? The kingdom is going to fall!”

“Perhaps not. Maybe your brother will be inspired to be a better king?”

“It’s not fair! Why does Dudley get to run this kingdom into the ground just because he was born with a rod of flesh between his legs and I wasn’t?! It’s…it’s…bollocks!” Adelaide was practically in tears.

A sly smile crossed Celine’s lips as she handed Adelaide the flag.

“Unless you sprout a rod of flesh yourself, you’re stuck with brother for a king. You better start convincing him to rule well…or come up with a better plan.”

“Ugh, you are useless Celine! I shouldn’t have wasted my time!”

Adelaide spared one more look at the tank and shivered. What the witch had said about orc parts fusing to humans had particularly unsettled her. The thought of losing yourself to some alien body part was horrifying. Within that horror, however, was a kernel of a thought — one almost unthinkable. It lingered in the princess’s subconscious as she stomped up the steps to her quarters.