A Journey Unwanted-Chapter 453 - 442: The Angel?

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Quadling Country]

[Glinda’s Castle]

("Glinda the Good Witch...") The name did not pass through Snow’s thoughts easily; it lingered for a long time as she allowed a brief silence to form. Her cold blue gaze remained fixed on the auburn-haired woman seated across from her, studying her appearance and presence. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

("Even now, taking into account all the witches within this realm, she stands among the most accomplished.") Snow’s fingers slowly intertwined as she folded her hands together before her. ("An expert in Chorda-tier magic, along with that she has mastered each branch of magic. That alone sets her apart.")

Her gaze sharpened slightly, though her expression did not change.

("I understand now, why the Ereš would pursue cooperation with her. Her knowledge and her understanding of magic, it may very well rival Morgan’s.")

That final thought settled as Snow inhaled quietly, then spoke, her tone still the same but carrying a clearer sense of direction. "Very well, I will proceed then. I assume you are already aware of what we commissioned from the Wizard of Oz."

"I am," Glinda replied without hesitation, her head tilting ever so slightly, interest flickering through her golden eyes as she leaned into the conversation. "A magical artifact—one designed with the rather ambitious capability of absorbing any form of energy, much like the leylines themselves." Her lips curved up slightly. "Modelled, if I’m not mistaken, after the rather peculiar magic of an Ancestor. A dangerous concept, but very clever. Quite the nifty little trinket, all things considered."

Snow gave a small, acknowledging nod, her expression remaining composed as she continued. "The Retorta Guild lacked the necessary ties to the Dominion of Oz to secure such a commission directly. As a result, the Heart Kingdom was employed as an intermediary. Their established alliance with us, along with their trade routes with Oz, made them the most viable option to facilitate the transaction." Her voice remained steady. "They were entrusted with transporting the artifact once it was completed."

"Oh dear..." Glinda’s expression shifted subtly, not into surprise, but rather recognition. A realization forming. "I believe I can already see where this is going." She leaned back slightly, though her attention sharpened. "An artifact that passively absorbs energy would interfere with most, if not all, magical transportation methods. Meaning it had to be moved physically. By hand." Her gaze returned to Snow. "And I take it that did not go as smoothly as intended."

"It did not," Snow confirmed plainly. "The artifact was stolen. Taken by a thief."

Behind Glinda, Alexandria’s brow lifted just slightly at the bluntness of the admission.

("She states that far too easily...") the guard captain noted internally, her emerald eyes briefly shifting toward Wolf, who stood behind Snow with visible tension in his posture, his annoyance barely concealed. ("No attempt to soften the failure, no effort to obscure it. She speaks plainly and efficiently. I suppose this Mortifer has little patience for unnecessary phrasing.")

Her attention returned forward.

"No ordinary thief, I assume?" Glinda asked, her tone thoughtful, as if already expecting the answer to be more complicated than it seemed.

"It was a Nil," Snow replied, her voice holding the same tone. "The precise stage of her evolution remains unknown. However..." There was the faintest pause. "...she alone would not have posed a significant threat. She was not the true issue."

Glinda’s interest deepened.

"It was a variable we could not account for," Snow continued. "A wild card that disrupted the entire operation."

She held Glinda’s gaze as she finished.

"An Angel," she said. "A high-ranking one."

"Oh?" Glinda leaned forward now, the shift in her posture immediate, her brow lifting as genuine intrigue surfaced. "You’re telling me, that one of God’s Angels personally intervened?" A soft, almost amused breath left her. "How unexpected. I was under the impression that the only other Angel residing in Álfheimr was the one affiliated with the Retorta Guild itself."

"It was unexpected," Snow admitted, and for the first time there was the smallest edge beneath her composure—not quite frustration, but something close to it. "It was not a factor we could have predicted, nor prepared for." Her eyes narrowed just slightly. "But I trust you now understand the situation. Retrieving the artifact is no simple matter. With most high-ranking Mortifers already assigned to their own operations, our options are limited."

"You don’t say," Glinda murmured, her fingers rising to rest lightly beneath her chin as she considered the implications, her golden gaze distant for just a moment before returning, sharper than before.

"You yourself..." Glinda began after a moment, her tone thoughtful, with her golden eyes resting on Snow with a level of attentiveness that felt almost invasive, "...you appear to be in the Transverto stage of your Nil evolution. That much is rather evident when one knows where to look." Her gaze dipped, however not physically; it was as if she was observing something beyond the visible. "And that Maledictum Sigil etched into your soul, it is quite refined. Careful cultivation rather than lucky happenstance."

If Snow felt any surprise at such a precise and deeply personal observation, she did not allow it to surface. Her expression remained still, and her posture unchanged.

Glinda hummed softly, almost pleased with her own deduction. "Given that, I imagine that Angel posed a genuine threat to you, yes? Not a trivial obstacle, but something that demanded your full attention." Her fingers lightly tapped against the armrest as she considered it further. "Hm, it would stand to reason, then, that it may very well have been a Seraphim." A small smile touched her lips, though it lacked warmth. "And I must admit, I would rather not involve myself with anything that falls under that particular classification."

"You seem rather well-versed in Angelic hierarchy," Snow noted, her voice unchanged, though her eyes lingered just a fraction longer, as if reassessing the woman before her.

"The Quaesitorum has had its share of encounters with Angels," Glinda replied casually, as if speaking of something far less significant than it was. "The one currently affiliated with the Retorta Guild was not the first to find their way into this realm." There was a small shift, clearly something unsaid lingering beneath that statement.

Snow’s head tilted, just slightly. A rare indication of confusion, or perhaps curiosity.

Glinda noticed—but dismissed it with a small, airy wave of her hand. "No matter, it is not particularly relevant to our current discussion." Her gaze sharpened again, her tone still soft but firm. "The point remains—Angels, and especially Seraphim, are best avoided. Even for someone like me, they fall firmly into the category of ’things I would rather not provoke.’"

"I did not come here to request your assistance in confronting the Angel," the Mortifer clarified, her voice grounding the conversation once more. "That was never the intention. The primary concern lies with the artifact itself."

"I see..." Glinda exhaled the faintest sigh, not of frustration, but of reluctant acceptance. "Though, even if I would prefer to remain uninvolved, I suspect the other witches within the Quaesitorum will not share my restraint. An Angel of that caliber appearing so openly..." Her lips curved again, though her eyes did not soften. "...they will find it far too interesting to ignore. Which, unfortunately, means I will likely be dragged into the matter regardless." She leaned back further into her seat, posture relaxed. "How delightful."

There was a brief pause before she continued.

"You want the artifact recreated," Glinda stated plainly, her tone shifting from speculative to certainty. "That is the purpose of this visit, isn’t it?"

"We do," Snow confirmed without hesitation, her answer immediate.

"It is possible," Glinda said, nodding once as if confirming something to herself. "However, if what you desire is a perfect replication, then I would require a proper reference. The original was crafted using the unique magic of the Ancestor of Might—her properties served as the foundation of its design." She folded one leg over the other slightly. "I am familiar with the theory, of course, but theory alone is insufficient. I would need to observe it directly and to understand it practically."

"I understand," Snow replied, her voice steady. "The Ancestor of Might is currently residing in Uhorus. We possess the means to traverse the realm as needed." She paused briefly. "However, the Retorta Guild’s presence in that realm is still being established. Our infrastructure there is incomplete."

"Oh, you truly do not waste time, do you?" Glinda hummed softly, a hint of amusement returning as she considered that. "Expanding your reach even while dealing with setbacks..." Her gaze lingered for a moment longer before she gave a small, decisive nod. "Very well. Bring me the Ancestor of Might, and I will create your artifact."

She smiled then.

"You have our thanks," Snow responded, inclining her head ever so slightly in a respectful bow. "It is not a debt the Retorta Guild will forget, nor one we will leave unacknowledged."

"Oh, I am quite sure of that," Glinda replied lightly, reaching for her hat and lifting it with a smooth movement before settling it back atop her head. "But truly, there is no need to dwell on such things just yet." Her tone softened again, returning to that effortless hospitality. "It is rather late, after all."

She rose smoothly from her seat, her movements unhurried.

"How about you remain here for the night?" she offered, her golden eyes warm once more. "We can discuss the finer details when our minds are clearer in the morning."

"That would be appreciated," Snow replied, her voice unchanged in its soothing cadence as she stood as well, mirroring Glinda.

"Wonderful," the Good Witch said, almost too sweetly, gesturing lightly toward the door. "Then I shall personally see you to your room."

At her side, Alexandria remained composed—but only just.

("You are far too accommodating, my lady,") the guard captain lamented silently, though her expression betrayed none of it as she followed.