Chapter 32: Not a Night-Mare (Patreon)

Author’s note: Hey guys

I have a little announcement to make: Since we are approaching the point where the story, shall we say, moves on (I guess we all know where) I see a growing need to think through more events in the city. As with this part, I'm planning to do it in a very different way - to leave out parts that went nowhere in the original story and were basically unnecessary, and add more importance to others, and so on…

So I want to take a short administrative break - let's call it that, since it will basically be just the last two days of the month. What does this mean for you? Well, one chapter tomorrow and then another one on Wednesday, May 1st. Quite honestly, I can't quite believe I have a whole month of writing Lament of the Slave (still working on the title) under my belt once again.

Now with that out of the way, enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 32: Not a Night-Mare - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/103083626


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Chapter 32: Not a Night-Mare

“Are you there, girl?”

I sure was, only . . . shackled down by my own fear.

One heartbeat of silence, a second one, and then another, rang in my ears while my mind raced. To answer the old man would be to betray my position away. But not to answer him . . . well, that would be rude, at the very least.

»H-he calls the beast?« the younger of the mares asked when she got over the merchant’s sudden laughter, horrified.

»Not beast to him.«

»But it is beast. I c-can smell it.«

»Me too, Lyl’ra.«

The fact that I smelled like a beast to both mares hurt a little. Though covered from head to toe in months-old filth, I should smell like a human - I was still one. Even the Lattice said so in my Grid. So . . . 

Was the smell of my beast side, all those mutations, so strong that it overpowered the scent of my human side? 

‘B-bloody heck, Korra. Not the most pressing issue.’ I berated myself as an old habit of mine kicked in. It was much easier to deal with other things - like what the heck was Lyl’ra, a word my weave couldn’t translate, or the mare’s name - than things I was uncomfortable with and had no idea how to handle. Ashamed of myself, drenched in sweat from head to toe, with bated breath and heart pounding, I shifted my attention back to the old man. He stood there in the middle of the moss-covered ruins of the room, looking around, waiting for my answer - the answer that never came.

“If you hear me, then hello, my name is Liam. Liam Scoresby,” he said in his low, husky, and oddly soothing voice. 

Yet, despite my instincts staying silent and nothing brushing against my mind, at least nothing as far as I could tell, my lips remained sealed. There was no way for me to tell that Scoresby wasn’t just a sweet talker. After all, he was a merchant.

“Do you live here?”

‘It wasn’t like I wanted to.’

“This is a dangerous place, but I guess you know that . . . ”

For quite a while, the old man tried to make small talk. And not answering him certainly hurt my heart - he kind of reminded me of my own grandfather. Admittedly, that might have been due to the lack of interaction with other people and the longing for my family. Eventually, though, he figured he wouldn’t get an answer from me: “Well, girl, I’ll be here till morning in case you want to talk.”

Good to know. I certainly did. Just not now. As he spoke, a plan formed in my head, one involving moss and him falling asleep.

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Well, after a couple of hours and a considerable amount of self-restraint, while watching him dine on something well-cooked in advance, I finally saw my opportunity to make my move. Sure, the old man might have been faking sleep like last time, but I couldn’t really be sure he was out cold unless I gave him a sniff of my tail.

Poisoning him was a last resort, though, in case he really wanted to collar me.

Instead, tense, cautious, and with all my senses on high alert, I made my way through the inn’s ruins to the sleeping horse-like creatures. My plan was not without its risks, but after finding a good spot, I plucked some moss and threw it on the older mare.

• 9th glyph engraved on Spatial Domain (⦿)

‘Oh, shut up!’ I barked at the notification tingling in my skull. Seriously, the Lattice could not have picked a worse time to inform me. I almost yelped out loud.

On the other hand, having engraved another glyph on the weave I used the most wasn’t bad - only three more, and the first circle would be full, forming the second. Furthermore, the range of my domain increased with each glyph, now creeping up to almost six meters.

Sure, it wasn’t nearly enough for my domain to reach the mares, but I wasn’t even close enough for the Lattice to tell me more about them. The reason would be simple. I didn’t want them to smell me, especially the younger one.

‘Okay, here we go again.’ After recovering from the sudden scare, I threw another tuft of moss at the mare.

‘Damn it!’

The only thing that moved was her tail, rubbing the spot where the moss had hit her. So I threw another tuft, and then another, and another, until the mare pricked up her ears and raised her head, her squinting eyes searching the darkness for the source of the pesky falling moss.

Of course, I didn’t stick my head out to scare the shit out of her. Instead, I gathered my courage and whispered: “Um . . . I’m s-sorry to wake you up, but . . . ”

»The beast!« she neighed, panicked.

“P-please calm down. I mean no harm,” I whispered hurriedly, doing my best to convey my honest intentions. 

»Beast?«

“I am not a . . . yes, it’s me. I’m the one you smell around this place.”

»No harm?«

“Yes, no harm,” I affirmed, damn impressed by the animal’s poise, which I also tried to put into my words. “I merely want to talk.”

»Talk about what?«

“About you and your . . . ” I whispered, pausing, having no idea what the one owning the horse was called. Master? That one gave me the creeps. “ . . . your owner.”

»Liam?«

“Yes.”

»You want to hurt him?«

“No, no hurting him. Unless he hurts me.”

»He would not . . . unless you hurt him - or us.«

“He cares about you that much?”

»Yes, he good human. So, you better not hurt us.«

“I will not,” I said, again reassuring the mare as best I could, taken aback by her trust in the old man. “Is he - truthfully - a good human?”

»He is, takes care of us.«

“I see, so you’re not his . . . slaves?” I asked carefully, trying my best to convey what I meant by the word.

»No slaves,« the mare whinnied, not taking kindly to my suggestion that a merchant would consider them such. »Partners, we work, he takes care of us.«

“S-stay calm, please,” I whispered urgently, afraid that her neighing would wake the younger mare, especially the old man. “I didn’t mean to insult him. I had a . . . bad owner. Afraid to meet another human.”

»Lots of bad masters, Liam caring, though.«

‘Oh, that’s why.’ That explained her trust in the man. Before she had ended up in Scoresby’s care, she had her share of shitty owners. Still . . . just because he was kind to animals didn’t mean the same for his treatment of humans.

“T-that’s good; however, I have to ask: He doesn’t . . . well, own any slaves, human slaves?”

»No!«

When the mare again took my question as an insult to the old man, quite a weight lifted off my heart. Apparently, the man sleeping nearby was not a slaver, merely a merchant.

“I see, and what does he trade in? What are you pulling on that wagon?”

»You want to steal?«

“No, just curious.”

»Human stuff, useless to beast.«

I had to give it to her. While still fearing she was talking to a beast, which hurt a little, she tried to dissuade me from stealing their cargo. I wasn’t sure I would be brave enough to do something like that in her place. 

‘Damn, what was I kidding myself? I wouldn’t be.’

And so, feeling a bit guilty, still full of questions, but having learned what I needed to know, I reasoned there was no point in tormenting the mare any further.

“Thank you . . . for talking to me.”

»No harm to us?«

“No,” I whispered, hurriedly thinking of a way to reassure her of my non-malicious intentions. “I swear on my pride.”

»Then, thank you for not eating us.«

With that, I disappeared into the forest, certain not to catch a wink of sleep until I spoke to the old man himself.

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Name: Korra Grey

Race: Human

 Gender: Female

 Age: 27

 1st Array: Slave

 Master: None

 Sigils: 97 - ○○○○○○

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Weaves: 1st Array (6/6)

Eleaden Standard Language (General): . . 15 glyphs - ⦿⦿

 Indomitable Will (General): . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108 glyphs - ⦿⦿⦿⦿

 Thrifty Drinker (General): . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 0 → 3 glyphs - ⦿

 Equilibrium (General): . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .0 → 6 glyphs - ⦿

 Hunger Fortitude (General): . . . . . . . . . . . 0 → 5 glyphs - ⦿

 Spatial Domain (General): . . . . . . . . . . . . . 0 → 9 glyphs - ⦿ 

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