Chapter 72: No Choice (Patreon)

Author’s note: Hi guys

Sorry for the delay, I was editing the previous two chapters slightly. Just a few words in chapter 70, but more lines in chapter 71 about the “wanted poster”. I don't think it's outright necessary, but I would recommend re-reading at least yesterday's chapter before reading this one.

Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 72: No Choice - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/106422779

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Chapter 72: No Choice

"I . . . am . . . f-free citizen of . . . "

"Shut up and stay down," the giant shithead grunted, completely ignoring what I was trying to tell them, putting more weight on his leg as I squirmed to prevent the sleazy bastard from tying my hands behind my back. Of course, it was as pointless as pushing to scream for help when I could barely draw a breath or utter a few words. "We can ask her that later, Stom."

"Like she's gonna tell you," the illusionist remarked, but letting it go for now.

" . . . I have . . . citizen . . . "

"Citizen my ass, twat. No one will give a shit about a slave tit like you - except for your former master."

" . . . b-but . . . in the barracks . . . "

"Just another meat in the grinder. Dozens like you come in daily. Welcome to Castiana, twat. Now, put your fucking hands behind your back, or I'll break them!"

'Was he right? Was I just another body to be devoured by the streets of the city? Then what about what Scoresby and Rayden said? Wasn't this one of the safest cities in the Empire?'

It sure didn't look like it now. But maybe if I yelled loud enough to get the attention of those on the street, then . . . then someone would . . . 

'No. Why was I kidding myself?'

Even if by some miracle I managed to scream, no one would come to help me and Ria.

Why would they?

This was a world where I saw with my own eyes people on the street carrying swords, daggers, and who knows what other weapons. Why would anyone confront a guy that could easily throw a fireball in their face? They'd have to be stupid or stupidly brave. Why would anyone risk their life for a gal branded as a slave? There was no glory or reward in it. Why go out of your way to save a stranger's child when all you risked getting was an early ticket to their grave and a simple thank you?

Sad, but the bitter reality.

No one in their right mind would go looking for trouble.

'I wouldn't.'

But I wouldn't be able to do what the four of them were doing, either.

'Seriously, how could they?'

"How c-can you . . . ?!" I choked out a suffocated hoarse, watching the bitch tie a gag on the little kitare. What used to be my skirt, a gift from the Scoresbys, had now become shackles binding my brave little guide.

'Were they monsters hiding in the skin of men?'

"Not that hard if you get plenty of coins for it," the bitch sneered, satisfied with her disgusting job on Ria, while the sick bastard wrenched my arms behind my back, almost making good on his words.

'They had to be. Monsters, no one else would . . . '

" . . . and done. Now for that trap of yours . . . what would you say to a pair of old socks? Or . . . ?" he trailed off, his hand slipping under the remnants of my skirt. " . . . maybe you'd prefer your own knickers?"

'But if they were monsters . . . ?'

"For the tit's sake, Ravel! Stop messing with the cunt and hurry it up."

"What the fuck has gotten into you, Kif? Scared shitless like the pussy over there?"

' . . . I didn't have to feel bad about killing them.'

"Fuck you, Ravel!" growled back at the illusionist.

"Nah, just getting a strange feeling."

'I mean, it would be horrible, unforgivable, make me a murderer. But in all fairness to myself, I already was a killer; the blood of others lay on my hands.'

"Oh, I get a lot of those. Usually, it's just an itch."

"More like lice," the bitch remarked, disgusted.

"Ah, yeah, those too."

'Besides, it wouldn't be me doing the deed. I was too weak. The beast, on the other hand . . . '

"Keep that to yourself, for the tit's sake. Anyway, haven't you wondered why there's such a bounty on that cunt's dead ass?" the big shithead asked out of the blue, looking thoughtfully at the piece of paper in his hand. "She sure has a unique look, but . . . isn't that a bit much for info or a rotting corpse?"

' . . . the beast boiled with fury for them hurting the pup.'

"Now you're wondering about that?" the mage shouted in a whisper, not believing his ears. "That was my first question when Yara showed us the runaway slave note. And you know what you all told me? To fuck off."

The bitch chortled in mock jest. "So, why didn't you?"

'And for that, I seethed with rage no less. I mean, I didn't want to do it, but they gave me no choice.'

"You know fucking why. I need money."

"Don't we all?" the shithead growled, his gaze boring into my back. "But I have to say, Stom, these coins are starting to smell a little fishy to me, too."

"Finally, someone with a brain. I mean, two hundred gold pieces for her? I could buy ten fine slaves for that."

'If I'd let them have their way with Ria . . . ' Well, they're the ones who pushed my hand.

"What are you two yapping about? What smell? This lovely golden package just washed herself up for us. Just smell her," sang the sick, sleazy bastard, burying his face in the hair of my tail. It was gross, sending shivers up my spine, but a mistake that he was about to regret for the remainder of his wretched life - shorter and more miserable than he hoped it would be. Letting a bit of that feral fury burning deep inside me flow through my veins, I bided my time like a beast stalking its prey. Watching through my domain, I waited for the right moment to pounce.

'Not yet.'

'Not yet.'

• 12th glyph engraved on Spatial Domain (⦿)

• 2nd circle of Spatial Domain formed

'Oh, shit! Shut up!'

'N-now!'

Just as that sick, sleazy bastard took a deep breath of my tail to prove his point to his pals, I released the withheld poison in one solid fart.

"Apples? What the . . . ?!" the bastard froze, his eyes going wide as he broke into a coughing fit. Sadly, my fart wasn't enough to plunge the narrow alley into a cloud of orange mist like back in the cellar. In fact, you could barely see the faint fog of my poison leaving the hair of my bushy tail. But the orange-colored coughs leaving the bastard's lips brought a smile to mine.

"What the fuck are you playing at now, Ravel?" the shithead, still with one foot on me, pinning me to the ground, growled, annoyed by his pal's antics.

" . . . the twat . . . she poisoned me . . . "

"Sure, and this little one bit off my hand." Laughed the bitch, now holding the unconscious kitare by the belt like some kind of sack.

'Just hang on, Ria. That was the bitch's last laugh.' The beast itched to make sure of that.

"Fuckers . . . I'm serious . . . antidote . . . give me one . . . quick."

"You can stop now. This isn’t funny, Ravel," the shithead growled. The hint of doubt in his voice, however, did not escape my ears. He was getting wary, and therefore more dangerous.

'Not yet, though.'

Just like with that sick, sleazy bastard, I bid my time to pounce, enjoying his increasingly ragged yapping.

"Anti . . . ANTIDOTE . . . you fuckers . . . "

"I think," the shithead said and paused, looking at the bastard clutching at his throat with interest. "To me - it doesn't look like he's faking it."

"It doesn't? Don't you remember the time he faked having a fever - for a whole fucking month?"

"Oh, I remember it too well," the illusionist remarked. "The asshole talked a good amount of coins out of me for a potion - coins I haven't seen till today."

"The . . . ANTI-DO-T-E . . . "

"You got one, Yara?" the shithead asked, apparently the only one who cared a bit about the bastard.

"No, why would I? You?"

"Nah, too expensive. Stom?" The big guy shook his head, looking at the mage standing further down the alley, keeping an eye on the illusion-shrouded entrance.

"Sure, but not for him."

" . . . you son of a . . . my share . . . it's yours . . . " the sleazy bastard writhing on the ground next to me grunted between heavy breaths, clutching his throat.

The mage raised an eyebrow, intrigued, stirring up hope in that batard, but then shrugged. "Won't I get it if you kick the bucket, anyway?"

" . . . YOU! . . . "

"Stom!"

"What? Why would I give that asshole anything? All he ever did was make fun of me."

'Damn. No pity.'

Not that I mind. It just meant that . . . along with the notification tingling in my skull, a shudder ran through my body.

• You have slain [Swift Hander - Ravel Gentry: 47 sigils]

'Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit!'

I actually did it; I murdered someone - again.

' . . . or did I?'

Of course, I did.

There was no way that bastard had Fae runes carved on his body like I had. He was dead - as he deserved. Did he, though? Did he actually deserve to die? Wasn't that a bit too harsh a punishment?

'Fuck, Korra! Get your shit together.'

Of course, he deserved it. If he had just left me alone, all of them, if they hadn't touched Ria, if I hadn't been so damned weak, I wouldn't have had to let the beast out and feel the pride of hunting a prey running through my veins - but strangely enough, that was all that happened. 

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Author’s note: So what do you say? This one gave me quite a headache as for some reason I just couldn't seem to hit the right vibe. As a result, this is one of the longest chapters so far.
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