Chapter 309: Regret (Patreon)

Author’s note: Hi guys.

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Another month down and damn, what a month. I wish I could give you a clear idea of where I want to go from here, but in my failure to move on from Lament of the Slave, I've only made a mess of things.

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What I can tell you is that until at least mid-March I will stick to writing Grandora and Ratchetmare, I have written - not edited - a chapter on each already. In the meantime, I'll be exploring the possibility of rewriting Lament of the Slave. If I do take the plunge, I'd like it to be with full vigour and the best I'm currently capable of, if possible even better. I'd like to look at ways to improve my writing further and potentially translate that into Lament of the Slave.

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One might say that by having 300+ chapters written, my work is basically done, but I couldn't see it further from the truth. I like to look at the current Lament of the Slave as just a sort of outline, rather than something to bind me. I think that was the mistake I was making in thinking about rewriting Lament of the Slave before. The idea of what it would require to go through every line and edit it just put me off. On the other hand, now that I've cleared a few things up, I feel motivated to write Lament of the Slave like I haven't in a long time.

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BUT, I don't want you to get your hopes up. Nothing is certain …

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Chapter 309: Regret - Link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/99446997 

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Chapter 309: Regret

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The thought of going back to Fallen’s Cry straight off gave me goosebumps. Pretty bad ones at that.

“Fuck!” I cursed under my breath, trying to shake the irritating feeling. There, deep underneath the city, in the past, I had faced beasts and beastmen far stronger than me without so much as a flinch, and now the thought of the green, rolling hills of the first floors made my legs tremble?

Fuck it!

“Understood, ma’am,” I growled with a stomach in knots and saluted, while the wide eyes and white faces of the others mirrored how I truly felt. Unlike me, however, they did not grapple with hurt beast pride, urging them to bare their fangs at their enemy, the fear, and show it who’s boss.

“Good, really good,” Captain Rayden said, and nodded back, eyeing us all one more time. “From the look on your faces, I must say . . . delaying your promotion to regular guards was the right decision. Shut it, Breadbaker! I stand by my decision until you prove otherwise. BUT - if you tell me that this is as far as you’re willing to go, that your level is enough for you, I will not force you into Fallen’s Cry. Granted, it will be disappointing; very disappointing. After the guts and the open minds you’ve all shown - well, to be frank, I had and still have high expectations of you. Yes - Welkes?”

“Will you give us time - you know, to decide, ma’am?”

Rayden sighed, a smile on her lips. “Naturally, Welkes. I’m not sending you there this instant. When you’re ready, let me know. But let me give you a piece of advice. My own experience. Unnecessary stalling - of anything - only makes things worse. That is all, Squad Four. Dismissed!”

“She’s right, you know,” Pinescar spoke when he was sure Rayden was out of earshot. “The Labyrinth may not be the only place you can get stronger, far from it, but if you don’t go down there and face your fears, it will be the biggest regret of your life.”

“Do you have any such regrets?” Stella asked the question on everyone’s mind.

“Had - not anymore. I faced mine much too late, though.”

“Was she already married with children, sir?” Freyde asked, unexpectedly earnest, taking the wind out of Pinescar’s sails and, frankly, out of mine. It shouldn’t have surprised me; he was my age, more than old enough to have a family of his own, yet it caught me off guard. And the reason was simple. I dragged the same regret with me - kind of. His name was Josh; he was tall, handsome, funny, and married. I was too hesitant, wanting to enjoy life, and where did it get me? Abducted by a fucking Fae to another world.

“I was talking more about missed opportunities for growth,” Pinescar said after clearing his throat. “Like training under an experienced mentor; visiting a place you know would help you, even if it’s inconveniently far away, and so on, WELKES. Nevertheless, I must say that it is good to address even regrets, as you suggested. In the Mind Wars, those regrets were the door the bastards used to get into your friends’ heads.

There was no need to go into more detail, and Pinescar knew it. While none of Squad Four had participated in the Mind Wars on the front lines, everyone had heard a story or two about the horrors. It was inevitable, given the nature of our work as City Guards and those in charge.

In my case, I’ve heard a lot from Deckard.

“But don’t think too much of it. It’s impossible to get rid of all the regrets, all the angles from which a mind mage might come at you.”

“It’s important to have strong mental defenses, isn’t it, sir?”

“Exactly, Palemoon. I would say the most crucial thing in fighting them - that and common sense. But that’s for another day. You’ve got a lot to think about right now. I’ll see you at roll call tomorrow morning, Squad Four.”

Waiting for us to salute, the sergeant saluted back and left, leaving us in silence.

“Um, guys . . . I thought you were training at Fallen’s Cry? I mean, when me and Stella were . . . spirited away.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Idleaf pouted, hurt by my remark.

“Of course it wasn’t,” I said, scurrying over to ruffle her hair. “That’s just a saying where I am from.”

“Does that happen a lot there?” asked Freyde.

“There’s the Bermuda Triangle,” I mused, “ . . . but no, not really. It’s more like one of those ghost stories.”

“There are ghosts?” Harper blurted out, aghast.

“NO, they are not. At least not proven - and WHY the fuck am I even telling you this?” I growled, noticing their fleeting smiles. “Hey, are you messing with me?”

“A little,” Harper admitted with a grin.

“Sorry, Korra. It’s just . . . when it was just the three of us going down into the Labyrinth . . . ”

“Or together with other recruits,” Meneur chimed in.

“Yes, that. Well, it was different.”

“How?” Stella took the question from my lips. “It’s not like getting lost in the Labyrinth was our fault. It could happen to you again at any time.”

“We know,” Freyde said, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, but . . . shit! I’m not good at this,” Harper cursed, as lost for words as he was.

“What these two are trying to say,” Meneur spoke up, “is that we don’t want to lose you again.”

“Urg. That sounds so - damn sweet,” Harper sputtered, disgusted. “But, yeah, that’s the gist of it.”

Hearing that, I felt sorry for the guys who went with them instead of us. No worry from the three of them if they vanished in Fallen’s Cry, never to be seen again.

“So the guilt associated with the five of us, sorry Idleaf, the six of us being back together?” Stella summarized, as if quoting from an academic book.

Freyde nodded. “Lieutenant Marcus may have said something similar.”

“Did he also tell you how to deal with it?”

“Only that it’s best to face it eventually,” Harper noted.

“Well, shit!” Stella cursed, much to my surprise. “I was kind of hoping for some advice.”

“Sooo - we’re not the only ones . . . ”

“No, Freyde. My knees are shaking at the thought of going back there,” Stella admitted, her eyes finding mine - the others did the same, making me take a step back.

“Hey, why are you looking at me?”

“Because you seem to be the only one who doesn’t mind going back to Fallen’s Cry,” Meneur explained.

He - they couldn’t be further from the truth. “That’s just not . . . look, sitting in a corner licking my wounds doesn’t sit well with me. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to go anywhere but down there.”

“Then don’t,” Idleaf whined, bouncing up to me and pulling me into a hug. “You can grow stronger under my canopy - all of you.”

“You would let us?” Freyde wondered, his eyes wide.

“Um-hmm,” the World Tree spirit nodded. “I’m sure Esudein’s children would love to play with you.”

Imagining that, Harper let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m not sure what’s more terrifying: getting stuck in that blasted maze again, or facing a three-hundred-level beast?”

“Fighting mossbears isn’t that bad - and any injuries you suffer will be healed by Mother Mossbear.”

“Honestly, Korra, that sounds even worse,” Freyde remarked, and the rest of the squad nodded in agreement, all of them well aware of what such training in Esulmor entailed - I’d told them more than enough times myself, not to mention Idleaf, who didn’t hesitate to detail how wrecked my body usually was after each bout.

“How about this?” Stella raised her voice, clapping her hands to snap us out of our gloom. “It’s not something to be taken lightly, so I suggest we think about it over a mug of ale - and the rhythm of the dance steps,” she added, after a disgruntled grumble from Idleaf.

“Not what I’d expect from you, Squad Leader,” Meneur said, no less taken aback than I was. “A fine suggestion, though.”

“I have to agree with the big guy. I’ve made my best decisions over a mug of ale.”

“And the worst,” Freyde added with a chuckle.

“Are you talking about yourself?” Harper shot back. “Because if I recall, we were both wasted.”

“Now you’re talking shit; that was the best decision ever - it’s just a shame neither of us remembers it,” he grumbled, crestfallen, only to shake it off a breath later. “Anyway, I was thinking more along the lines of your brilliant idea of throwing mud at the fair ladies in fancy dress or pissing from the top of the city walls.”

“Fair my ass. They’re bigger sluts than most companions I know, and you’re only bitching about the city walls because you lost. Right, Meneur?”

“He sure did.”

“You peed off the walls?! You know what - I don’t even want to know,” Stella sighed, shaking her head, but with a faint smile on her lips.

On the other hand, a faint wistful whine escaped from mine. The banter between the three of them only reminded me of how much we’d missed during our time trapped in the Labyrinth. And no matter how irritating it was, there was no changing the past.

At least that much I learned in the heart of Fallen’s Cry.

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***

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“I wanted to go now,” Idleaf moaned for the umpteenth time during the not-so-long walk from the barracks to the City Hall.

“Just bear with it. The musicians won’t be there until tonight, anyway.”

“I know,” she whined, pausing, her eyes blazing with excitement. “The Elders might know how to make the sun set faster.”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.”

The World Trees might have been powerful, but if I had to guess, manipulating something like the rotation of a planet, a living planet, was beyond their power. At worst, I hoped they wouldn’t give in to Idleaf’s whims. Pissing Eleaden off more than it was already was the last thing we needed.

Luckily enough, the worry proved needless.

“They don’t know,” Idleaf whined, wings drooped, dragging her legs as if they were made of lead. As a result, passersby looked at me as if I were some kind of tyrannical summoner torturing her pet. If only they were right. Having the freedom to recall Idleaf would be so great at times.

“Finally,” I breathed as we stood in front of the City Hall, not at all surprised that Idleaf’s mood had taken a full turn at the sight. She squealed like a little girl and popped out - not hard to guess that to Ria. I don’t know how the little kitsune did it, but I had yet to catch her taken off guard by Idleaf. It was as if she knew the World Tree spirit was coming.

“So unfair,” I sighed and walked up the stairs to the City Hall like a normal person.

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***

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“Errr . . . hi, Enola,” I greeted the receptionist, looking around, confused. “What’s going on?”

“Hello, Korra. Can I assume it’s the Idleaf making the racket back there?” she asked back, pointing to the staff door behind her.

With a nod, I leaned against the counter. “Seriously, though. Shouldn’t there be a bunch of seekers in the lobby and lines at the counters? You’re not closed, are you?”

“I don’t even remember when we were,” she laughed. “No, Korra. But apparently Bloody Claw has managed to reach floor 163. Seekers are swarming Labyrinth Square and Claw’s headquarters.”

“Damn - why didn’t Rayden mention anything?”

An honest question, and yet she dared to chuckle? Sage let her know how outrageous that was with a gentle smack on the head. Of course, I was careful to spare her the poison.

“Come on, Korra, what makes you think the woman in charge of the safety of the entire city is going to keep you up to date on everything that’s going on, like your personal errand girl? As far as I know, she doesn’t even tell the City Lord what she doesn’t have to.”

“No wonder, he’s . . . ” I said, pausing to look around. While they pretended not to, the other receptionists were undoubtedly listening to our conversation. Not surprising when they had nothing better to do than sit around with their thumbs up their asses. Besides, you didn’t get to see the Guardian of the World Tree and the lost returnee every day. Moreover, I wasn’t the best one to hold it against them - owing to my ears, I had overheard more than I would have liked.

Still, better safe than sorry.

“Well, let’s just say that he and I don’t exactly get along. But this has nothing to do with . . . the City Lord. Rayden wants to send us back there, you know.”

Enola’s eyes went wide. “She’s sending you to Fallen’s Cry?”

“Well, not by order - when we feel ready, but still . . . she could have said something about the new floor getting conquered.”

“She could have, but - would it have changed that much, Korra? It’s not like you’re going to dive to floor 163, is it? Are you even going back?”

“Well,” I grunted, my pointless fury at Rayden dying away with the thought of returning to the Labyrinth. “It’s not so much a question of if, but when.”

She gave me a sad smile. “This is probably going to sound like some corny phrase we learn as receptionists, but you don’t have to feel obligated to go back, Korra. You don’t owe anything to anyone, nor are you bound by any contract. It’s better to stay as far away from that place as you can, if that means you don’t end up a wreck. It happens more than you think.”

“Corporate contracts?”

“Mostly.”

“I see. Thanks for the concern, Enola. I really appreciate it. But I can’t live in fear all my life - it was the reason I became a Seeker in the first place.”

It baffled me that I had forgotten. I had dived down there so I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder in fear of every shadow, and yet here I stood, debating whether to let more shadows chasing my tail.

“Yes, I remember,” Enola said, smiling. “You’ve changed a lot since then.”

“I have, haven’t I?”

“ . . . ”

“Korraaa!!!” Whatever Enola had on her lips died in the joyful squeals of the little kitsune as she ran into the hall, Idleaf in tow.

“Good to see you, Ria. Did you have a good day?”

She frowned. “No . . . ”

“The others are still giving you a hard time?

“They say I’m silly to think the system is only there to guide us, the way we guide people through the city. But they are the silly ones, aren’t they, Korra?”

“Yes, they are,” I said, ruffling her hair. “Don’t mind them. They’ll understand someday. Which reminds me, Enola, how’s your skill?”

“Almost back to where I had it.”

“Really?”

Harper, Freyde, and Meneur still had a ways to go. On second thought, not so surprising. She had to focus on one skill only; they had to deal with the entire skill set.

“Baffling, right? I’m actually thinking of trying other skills.”

“I say go for it.”

Enola laughed. “I knew you’d say that. But it’s not an easy decision.”

“Neither is going back to the Labyrinth. We want to sit over it tonight at the Drunken Filly. You can come if you want.”

“Or you can come with us to the new bakery, Enola. Idleaf says they make the best muffins there.”

When Enola looked from Ria to me, eyebrows arched, I could only shrug.

“So they say, and I can’t say no to the spirit of the World Tree.”

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***

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“I call bullshit,” Harper grumbled. “They make good muffins at the East Gate? I’d sooner believe those suckers learned how to bake decent bread.”

“It’s true,” Idleaf insisted. “Tell her Korra’leigh.”

Wishing they’d left me out of it, I nodded with a sigh. “They weren’t bad, Harper.”

The former baker snorted. “Then you don’t know how good muffin tastes.”

“Maybe you could show us how it’s done,” Meneur suggested, sipping at his beer.

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Freyde pricked up his pointed ears. “I’d love to see you bake - and taste your food.”

“Then dream on. The only thing I’ll let you taste are my grenades.”

“Do they taste like muffins? Can I have one too?” squeaked the spirit of the Esulmor Word Tree, wagging her tail like an excited puppy.

“What . . . no, Idleaf, they’re not edible.”

“Then why would you give them to Freyde to eat?”

“So the pointy ear can choke on them - no, no, no, just kidding,” Harper added hastily when she saw Idleaf’s horrified expression.

“That’s just mean.”

“Right?” Freyde readily agreed. “Actually, I feel like she’s been meaner to me ever since we got together.”

“Not just a feeling,” Stella remarked after taking a drink from the mug. “I’ve actually been thinking about how this might affect our teamwork. It has been proven that partners are up to four times more likely to make rash decisions when the other is in danger.”

“You mean I’d jump in to save this baker’s ass? Don’t worry, that won’t happen.”

“Likewise, pointy ears,” Harper remarked, both of them eyeing each other.

“Right.”

Stella’s sigh said it all. She didn’t buy their lies any more than I did. Even Meneur didn’t seem to be convinced. Idleaf, on the other hand, was clearly disappointed in both of them and their refusal to help each other.

“Hey, don’t give us that shit - show me a beast and I’ll prove it to you.”

My ears perked up. “So you’re willing to return to Fallen’s Cry?”

“It hasn’t been that long since I was last there.”

“I mean with the two of us, Stella and I . . . and Idleaf, of course.”

Harper paused, took a sip of her beer, and shrugged. “Why not? What are the chances of the same shit happening again, right?”

“One in a hundred thousand dives per labyrinth.”

“I wasn’t asking, pointy ears - sounds like the odds are pretty slim, though.”

“Not really,” Meneur noted with a grim expression. “Three cases a year in Fallen’s Cry alone.”

At the reminder of that grim statistic, the table fell silent. No matter how one looked at it, there was a chance that once we plunged into the depths beneath the city, we would find ourselves back in the hold of that cursed maze.

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Author’s note:

I hope you enjoyed it. Now we can only wait (well, you guys - I've got my work cut out for me) and see whether the next chapter of Lament of the Slave will be Chapter 310 or Chapter 1.

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