READ WEBNOVEL Swamp Hags
"Really?" The adorable older woman sighs before sinking up to her nose into the bathwater to hide her embarrassment from me. She closes her eyes as she thinks quietly under the water for several moments. After her irritation subsides, Opalina surfaces with a stern look on her face. "That's really where we're starting? You're just going to up and ask a woman such a personal question without any concern for her feelings?"
"I sure am," I raise my glass to her in a mock toast, watching with a smile as she continues to grumble about having to answer. "What does it matter? You're a Mage. You’ll likely live a few hundred years and only have to look it if you want to. Age shouldn't be a big deal with you."
"It matters because you've surrounded yourself with cute young girls, and an old woman like me is not immune to jealousy. Far from it." She puffs out her lip. I have to admit, seeing Opalina act all vulnerable and cute is a refreshing change of pace.
"What do you mean by that? Are you saying you wish you knew me when you were younger?"
"I don't know what I'm saying," She grumbles before taking a sip of her wine to calm her nerves. "All I know is that it shouldn't matter, but my irrational emotions say that it does. I've had flings with many women in my youth, but none of them were what I'd call romance."
"Dodging the question, I see..." I click my tongue sarcastically and shake my head back and forth.
Opalina frowns and then half-teasingly splashes some of the water into my face, acting far from whatever her age really is. It narrowly avoids getting in my wine glass, which I almost spill amid my own laughter. After struggling with her feelings, the witch sighs and tilts her face far away from me. "Fine, fine. I promised I would be honest with you... so..." The witch mentally groans before finally solving one of the greatest mysteries in my life with just a few words. "I turned seventy last fall. Are you happy?"
I blink as that number sets in, not knowing what I was expecting. "Seventy? Really. Seventy"
She groans and blushes, finishing an entire glass of wine out of frustration right then and there. I probably shouldn't have said it like that. "Yes, really. This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you!"
"I thought you were at most around sixty... Not that ten years makes all that much difference, but..." Almost unthinkingly, I blurt out and laugh under my breath, "I suppose you really weren't joking while constantly calling yourself an old lady."
"You are not giving me much reason to continue sharing my secrets, Dear." Opalina looks at me with a glare that chills my spine even while submerged in the wondrous heat of this magnificent bath.
Opalina grumbles while magically topping herself off a fresh glass of Sparkling Gold. "I'm young at heart, damn it, now quit while you're ahead, or I'll end up downing this whole bottle by myself."
"Well, we can't have that..." I take a long drink of my own and enjoy the rich taste, formulating the following question in my mind. "I guess it'd be good to start things off from the very beginning. Where were you born? You've mentioned being from Arrark before."
Opalina stares into her drink with a forlorn expression. She wasn't exaggerating. Judging from her body language, she really doesn't enjoy talking about any of this. Nevertheless, she answers, "Tior... Mithimere, to be precise."
I guess that's not exactly surprising. If you took a random, top-tier Karnallian Mage and asked them where they came from, I'm sure almost half would answer similarly. "So you were born in the actual Mage capital of Karnalle?"
"Shocking, isn't it?" The witch rolls her eyes and puts on a fake smile to hide her disdain.
"I guess that means both of your parents are Mages, too." What was meant to be an innocent observation turns out to be yet another
"Yes," The mature woman pronounces slowly with venom in her voice. "But that's one of those topics I would rather we avoid."
"Isn't someone a little old to still have daddy issues?"
Opalina looks at me as if I were something she just stepped in. "I should not have given you alcohol for such a serious conversation..." She grumbles, making me think that I was on the mark regarding the daddy issues. She did tell me she used to hate men, so I guess it had to stem from somewhere.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." I take a deep breath. "No more quips, I promise."
"Give me the glass," She continues to stare sternly while extending a single open hand toward me.
"Hey, you need the wine to help you talk, and if it gets heavy, I'm going to need it to listen."
Opalina considers this before nodding her head and sighing. "Fair enough," She says before expanding on her background. "The short of it is that I was born in Mithimere. I advanced through the illustrious Magicademy as fast as I could. After graduation, I stayed there doing research.... until everything just sort of caught up with me, and staying in Tior was no longer an option."
A lot of implications there, unsurprisingly. This lines up with all the hints that Opalina is a wanted criminal, at any rate. "Opalina, I'm starting to think that you're not just an average town healer," I say rhetorically, which gets me a playful smile along with another roll of her eyes. Glad to see she'll let me get away with more quips as long as they're tasteful.
"No, far from average. My specialty has always been in magical poisons, diseases, viruses, and spells that mess with anatomical makeup... that sort of thing. Back in those days, the work I was doing is exactly what Osbourne commissioned me to do for him again during the Rotblight; figuring out cures to magically created illnesses. Of course, I also dabbled in doing the opposite more than I'd like to admit. But that was when I was much younger. That spell I hit the Sage with the other day was just one of the hundreds of different magical illnesses I've created in my days."
"I'm not sure how to feel about that... you can spare me the 'poison and medicine are two sides of the same coin' metaphor, though."
"It's true, though." She laughs softly. "I won't defend myself, it was a different time, and such contributions to academia made me quite rich and famous. It's just that all the dubious ways I used to fund my research came back to bite me. In the end, one thing led to another until I eventually burned every bridge I had left. Now, I can't ever return to Mithimere."
That sounds awful, but also like Opalina may have had it coming. When she says dubious ways of funding her research, my erotica-addled mind quickly goes south before I remember that's not possible. Still, I think I've read at least one bawdy tale about a desperate witch who would do 'anything' to fund her research... probably more than one, to be honest. Rather than dig for the details she probably won't share anyway, I ask, "Do you ever miss living there?"
Opalina considers this question before admitting, "I used to," Only to then shake her head. "Nowadays, I only miss the research I was able to perform there. Not the bad research, mind you, but the work I did curing illnesses and developing my personal style of healing magic. Mithimere is a magical place where every resource a gifted Mage could ever dream of is yours for the taking if you know where to find it. But... despite that, I can't say I miss the city itself all that much. For all the creative and ethical freedom it offers, that city and its people eat away at you year by year. It compels you to be the worst version of yourself possible in the name of advancing our understanding of magic... I know a thing or two about the topic, so trust me when I tell you that place is poison."
"I bet you could do a lot of good if you had those sorts of resources again..." I give her a soft smile while feeling that funny feeling rise up in my chest, the one that makes me want to provide for all of my lover's wants and desires. Getting Zutiria an alchemy lab is feasible. Getting Gwin a forge, too. But getting Opalina access to resources that rivals Karnalle's capital of magic? Just the thought of it makes me feel inadequate.
"I try not to think about that," She sinks further into the bathtub. "Instead, I focus on what I can do with what I have. I'm far from poor, you know."
"I've noticed," Smirking, I guiltily reminisce about all the spoiling she's done to me over the many years. Goddesses know that Opalina's bank account is anything but empty. "What happened to you after you left Tior? Did you go straight to Arrark?"
"No, I went north..." Opalina answers, almost sounding embarrassed of the fact. If she could sink any further into the warm waters without dunking her head, she would probably do so.
The province north of Tior would be... ah. Well, that explains it. "...Drerland, then?"
"Indeed," She sighs, knowing the connotation that her confirmation brings.
Drerland is known as Karnalle's worst province for many a damn good reason. The entire thing is just one big swamp, preventing any large cities from being built within it. It's hot, humid, and there are all sorts of creepy supernatural shenanigans going on there. This is thanks partly to its mysterious dungeon and the alleged swamp hags who live amid its bogs.
That's not even mentioning the inbred, illiterate, violent, and degenerate Drerlanders who make up the sparse, unfriendly population. Indeed, Drerland produces nothing of value to the Realm and is the butt of every joke. In my childhood, I heard all sorts of stories from adventurers who took on quests that led them through Drerland, and I can safely say I'll die a happy man if I never have to set foot there myself.
As if she feels the need to explain herself, Opalina is quick to point out, "Drerland has a special relationship to the Mages of Tior. People like me are always in need of suitable test subjects, and Drerland is full of... well, I would hate to use the word 'expendable', but... well, it's just brimming with peasants who would never be missed. If you catch my drift."
"Bit hard not to,"
"Yes, well... I found myself a nice little swamp to call my own, and I set up shop where no one would ever find me. Magic works... strangely, in Drerland."
"I'm a Guild Master, Opal. I know all about Drerland's biggest dungeon." Every province has a handful of dungeons they're known for. Arrark has the Labyrinth of Light, for instance, and in Drerland's case, there's the Decayed Sky Whale.
In ancient times, a massive, dead leviathan fell from the stars right in the center of Drerland. It was one of the first pieces of evidence that other Realms existed, and it changed how Karnalle saw its place in the universe. Given how we've only ever found realms by traveling along a two-dimensional plane, though, no one is sure where the whale came from anymore.
Calling it a 'whale' isn't entirely accurate, but it's the closest thing we have to compare with that tentacled monstrosity. In general, magic is more potent near the whale, aside from one specific type. Divination. Whether it's with crystal balls or otherwise, scrying doesn't work at all. Same with any sort of remote viewing, dowsing, or fortune-telling spells. If someone were to hide in Drerland, the only way to find them would be the hard way.
Creepily enough, treasure chests randomly spawn inside this massive corpse, and its half-rotted, room-like organs are filled with monsters, traps, and strange architecture. While close proximity to the whale is far from healthy, it got certified as a dungeon by the Association since people would have explored it one way or another. Might as well make it official and ensure adventurers know what they're up against.
All in all, Drerland might have been a respectable province before the whale fell, but that's a time long forgotten. Now, the dead creature's horrific influence is felt the second one first steps foot into the mysterious swamps.
"Most exiled or otherwise shady Mages wind up at Drerland at some point in their life," Opalina explains. "I'm far from the first Mage who ran into trouble with the Council and then sought out the whale's protection. These days, I no longer need it. I've long since mastered how to hide my presence..."
"As long as you don't use tons of powerful magic, right?"
"Precisely,"
"So then all the tall tales about people being kidnapped by swamp hags or bog witches are really just about Mages like you?"
"No, of course not. First of all, you, of all people, should know that 'hags' are a legitimate species of monster that really do exist. Secondly, I let most of my peasants go after I was done with them. I even erased their memories as a courtesy for the... clinical trials I put them through!" She says in a defensive flurry. The word 'most' sticks out like a painfully red and throbbing sore thumb. "Besides, it's not like those legends are about me in specific. Although... It's hard to deny that I didn't build up something of a reputation for myself..."
"Does that reputation have anything to do with people calling you 'the Nightshade'?"
Opalina raises her head, frowning at the mention of this specific moniker. "No, that's a separate matter altogether. I didn't want you to ever hear that name."
"Will you tell me what it means?"
"It was the name I was born with, and it's a name I always hated. I changed it when I went into hiding in Arrark, after..." She looks to the side, and everything about her body language suddenly tells me to expect another big topic is on the horizon.
"...After?" I prepare for yet another shocking revelation by readying my drink.
She sighs. "After the war."
I take a long, hard sip and nod my head.
