Chapter 33: Korra Grey (Patreon)

Author’s note: Hey guys

A quick reminder of my brief administrative break. This is the last chapter in April, the release of chapters will resume on Wednesday, May 1st.

Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 33: Korra Grey - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/103144544


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Chapter 33: Korra Grey

Just as I thought, the dawn came before sleep could catch up with me. Not the first sleepless night I ever had, and I guess not the last.

But man, did I wish I’d overslept.

My muscles ached from being tense all night, my eyes burned with fatigue, my heart was pounding so hard in my chest it hurt, a lump was stuck in my throat, and the stench of my sweat stung my nose. I simply wasn’t in any shape to face the old man Scoresby.

I had to, though.

There was no telling if I would be better off next time or if there even would even be a next time. For all I knew, this could have been his once-a-year trip to whatever place lay at the other end of the forest. So I swallowed down my fear, cleaned myself off with clumps of dew-soaked moss - honestly, something that I should have thought of on my first morning here - and sneaked my way back into the ruins of the Esulmor Edge Inn.

There, just one wall separating me from the old man warming himself in front of an old fireplace, I pressed myself against the stones, ears pricked, scanning my small domain for any traps while biting down on my lower lip.

‘You can do it, Korra.’ 

That foolish dare, backed up by the [Indomitable Will], worked wonders. With fear replaced by a bit of courage, I took a deep breath and held Sage out over the collapsed part of the wall.

Before long, the wiggling tip of my tail caught the old man’s eye: “Ah, I see we have a guest, if I’m not mistaken.”

Fighting off thoughts of running away, I pulled Sage back, pressed her to my chest, and breathed, “Yes.”

• You were poisoned

“Brave of you to show up. Oh, and I very much appreciate the subtlety. Getting scared ain’t good for the heart at my age.”

“Then . . . w-why drive through this forest?”

“Why live in it?”

Ah, avoiding the question by asking his own - a touchy topic, was it?

“Pardon me, miss. I didn’t mean to pry without introducing myself. But, call it an occupational disease, I’d feel better to talk so face-to-face, wouldn’t you?”

I would have preferred that too, and in fact, that was my intention; I just couldn’t quite get over him calling me “miss”. He certainly meant nothing by it, yet my heart skipped a beat. For the past year, no one had called me anything other but: Hey you, freak, dirty bitch, and, last but not least, beast.

On that note, a warning was on order: “I think so too, it’s just . . . my appearance . . . might throw you off.”

“It already did three days ago. Though, I have to say, you don’t look like any Terr’den I’ve ever seen.”

Terr’den? What was that? Were there people who looked like me? Other than the freaks from the cellar?

‘Shit. Not now, Korra. Focus.’

“I didn’t mean to . . . ”

“Oh, no need to explain, miss. Unless there was an ill intent on your part.”

“No. No, no, no. There wasn’t . . . I mean, I wouldn’t . . . ”

The old man held up his hand to stop me. “Not my intention to put you in a bind; for that, I apologize.” Pausing to throw a stick on the fire and probably to collect his thoughts, he smiled warmly at me. “How would you feel about joining me by the fire, miss? The mornings here tend to be quite chilly.”

‘Really?’ 

Sure, I had to sleep with my tail pressed to my chest and wrapped in my wings, but that was how I used to sleep in the cellar, too. Was I simply used to the cold? Or did the tufts of fur here and there help me resist it better than I thought? Heck, for all I knew, it could have been one of the side effects, one of the mutations that had twisted my body beyond . . . 

Swallowing the rage at the deranged asshole and what he did to me bubbling in my chest, I took a breath to brace myself. Against all my fears, the old man had seen me before, albeit at night, and was still willing to bear with my looks - what more could I ask of anyone?

“I . . . I don’t know about the fire, but . . . ” I said and slowly poking my head over the edge of the crumbling wall I was hiding behind. 

As expected, the old man’s eyes widened, horror replacing the friendly smile. But before the hurt had a chance to bite into my heart, he cleared his throat, smiling even wider than before. “I must say that it has been some time since the sight of a young woman has left me as bewildered as . . . ”

»B-Beast!« the young mare neighed in a panic at the sight of me, not letting the old man finish. »The beast!«

»It all right, Lyl’ra,« the older mare whinnied to calm her down.

»Y-y-you blind? The beast here to kill us!«

»It promised not to hurt«

»Wh-what? When?«

»At night. I talked with the beast.«

»The beast here . . . when I asleep? H-how close?«

“Over there, behind that wall,” said the older mare, at which the younger one staggered, looking like she was going to pass out.

“I take it you understand them,” the old man spoke, making me shift my attention back to him.

‘The f-fuck, Korra?!’ 

This was not the time to be distracted - the reason why I had strained my senses and focused heavily on my domain for any hint of devious trickery the whole time. A slip on my guard like that could be fatal.

“Y-yes,” I admitted after taking a deep breath. “Is that . . . something weird?”

“I wouldn’t say weird, but certainly unusual. For a Slave such as yourself, that is.”

How?! How did he know I was a slave? Did he see my shackles? Was it my looks? Were people like me all enslaved - the Terr’dens he mentioned? However, as the initial fright passed, it struck me that just as I could see his array and number of sigils, the old man could see mine. He saw the mark this world had branded me with.

[Merchant: 78 sigils]

Yeah, just as I remembered.

“So, other people can talk to . . . animals, too?” I asked, trying not to let my brief startle show.

“But of course. All you need to have is the right weave like yours, miss. Although, usually, it takes having an array like Animal Caretaker or Beast Handler to get access to one. On the other hand, in my travels, I have met Groomers, Stablers, and Coachmen who understood the animals in their care. To be honest, sometimes I do wonder what those two are talking about, but as you can see, I only have five weaves to work with . . . oh, forgive my rambling. I tend to talk a lot, but that comes with the trade. Scoresby, Liam Scoresby at your service, miss . . . ?”

“K-Korra,” I stammered out. It had been so long, too long, in fact, since anyone had ever asked me my name.

“The world sure is big. You’re the first Korra I’ve ever met. May I be bold and assume it’s just Korra?”

I shook my head, “Grey, my name is Korra Grey.”


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Author’s note: See you all on the 1st of May. :)

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