Ogre Tyrant

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 63 – Duty and desperation – Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 63 - Duty and desperation - Part Two

To say that the Asrusians were upset was a severe understatement. The Asrusians and Werrians had been fierce enemies for generations and hundreds of thousands of lives had been lost on both sides.

The Asrusians saw no meaningful difference between the Semenovians and the Werrians, and to a certain extent, I had to admit that they had a point.

The Semenovians had been annexed and integrated into the Werrian Empire before the first official war against the Asrusian Kingdom. The Asrusians openly admitted that the Semenovians made few if any notable contributions in the early days of their annexation. However, the past couple of hundred years were a different matter entirely.

The relative independence and allowance of divergent cultural identity for the Semenovian people had come at a price. Special privileges demanded special contributions, and the Semenovians paid for it in the blood of the Empire’s enemies.

I had expected Savva to face down his Asrusian detractors on his own initiative. Unfortunately, Savva opted for a different approach.

He agreed with them.

Encircled by wolves, Savva had decided to slather himself with honey and barbeque sauce.

In any other political assembly, it would have been tantamount to suicide. However, despite all their posturing and threats, the Asrusian high command ultimately answered to the Lord Regent, Francis Asrus.

With the exception of a choice few, the Lord Regent had remained silent and observed the proceedings with an air of cool detachment.

When the Lord Regent had risen from his seat, the audience chamber had fallen silent almost immediately.

Curiously, Francis Asrus sidestepped the matter of the generational blood feud entirely and made Savva an offer. In exchange for twenty Labyrinth floors of territory, the Asrusians would use their advancing army to lay siege to the Semenovian cities.

Acting under the guise of establishing themselves within the Confederacy, the Asrusians' false sieges would allow the Semenovians time to retreat in a more organised fashion. Of course, the payment was incredibly steep for an action that would pose only a minimal risk to the Asrusians. A price that only grew steeper through proper context.

The Lord Regent demanded that the ten floors had to be Conquered by the Semenovians themselves. They could not just surrender territory that I bequeathed to them or was otherwise gained through trade or other bargains.

The ruthlessness of the Lord Regent’s demands brought the Asrusian high command to heel without the need for a formal or public rebuke. It also positioned the Asrusians to secure a dominant geographical advantage over the Semenovians and Firehearts alike.

Cornered and left with no other means with which to secure additional aid, King Savva had stoically agreed.

I had observed the proceedings in my human disguise, so I had been limited to an exclusively observational and advisory role.

All the same, a part of me was glad that both sides had found a way to achieve some form of mutual benefit. After all, the Asrusians could have simply refused to cooperate at all.

With the Confederate invasion underway, locating Clarice’s family took a higher priority. Thankfully, the projections of Savva and Katia were already in the process of securing order and executing the final traitors within the last few cities.

Soon, King Savva’s messengers would begin teleporting to cities across the empire. With my champions divided amongst them, my mana reserves and regeneration would be sorely tested.

I could remotely view my champions and their projections for a minor cost in mana, but selecting the correct target became increasingly difficult with each additional projection to choose from. With that limitation in mind, I decided that I would begin by Summoning a projection of Gric on his own.

Sebet had a greater talent and superior active means of obtaining deeper information, but Gric was far better at gathering and processing surface-level information en masse. Of the two, Gric was the better choice to begin the search while I regenerated mana.

I had been resisting returning to The Grove until my business with the outside world was complete. I knew myself well enough to know that I wouldn’t want to leave for quite some time if I allowed myself to return home. However, to keep my promise to Clarice I needed to increase my mana regeneration, and the mana-rich waters of the lake were the best means I had available.

Just thinking of the lake brought images of Pete and Suzy rushing to the forefront of my mind.

They were growing up so fast and I was missing it, missing them...

A sudden surge of anger rose up from the darkest reaches of my mind and raged at the unfairness of it all. I crushed it, denying it purchase before casting it back where it came from.

“Life isn’t fair,” I muttered bitterly.

The concept of fairness and its absence in my life had been the obsession of my childhood and early teen years. I had felt like the universe owed me something, anything, to compensate for or balance out the shitty hand I had been dealt.

Life isn’t fair.

It was the single point of major contention between myself and my mum. No matter the argument I presented, she would always reply with the same three words.

I felt shame recalling how angry I had been with her. As if she was the arbiter of the universe and by denying my demands she was denying me what I was due. It wasn’t until quite some time later that I understood what she had been trying to say.

Life isn’t fair.

Expecting the universe to balance the books would only make you unhappy. So it is better to focus on what you have instead.

After taking several deep breaths, I used my authority to relocate myself into the centre of The Grove’s lake beneath the willow tree.

Assuming my natural form, it took a few moments to fall into the rhythm of breathing water and filtering it through my gills. However, once I had the rhythm down, my mana regeneration increased by roughly twenty per cent. It was a truly impressive feat given the absurd level of regeneration I was operating under already.

Two hours passed in a blur as I pushed myself to keep pace with the Semenovian messengers. Summoning Sebet’s projections took somewhat longer, but I felt an immense sense of accomplishment once I was finished.

Each of Gric’s projections had been given enough mana to last roughly six hours, provided they didn’t actively spend any of their mana on unnecessary activities. Sebet’s projections had been given roughly the same volume of mana. However, attempting to directly compete with Gric could reduce her duration to as little as a few minutes depending on how she spent the mana.

With nothing left to do but wait, I Summoned a projection of the Thorn Heart.

The Thorn Heart’s projection writhed and twirled across the lake bottom in what I could only interpret as an expression of pleasant surprise. Without the armoured stone plates of the original to weigh it down, the Thorn Heart had to anchor its roots into the lakebed to avoid gradually floating to the surface.

Walking along the lake bottom, I gingerly took hold of one of the Thorn Heart’s vines. <I will bring you home.>

<Home?> The Thorn Heart’s mental voice seemed confused.

<Here. Sanctuary. This is home.> I did my best to form images of Sanctuary in my mind and share them through our connection.

<Home!> The Thorn Heart’s vines waved and thrashed through the water excitedly. <Clean! Water! Mana! Home!>

I formed an image of the cave I had used to house Dhizi above the mountain pass. <Go there. I will bring you home.>

<Home!> The Thorn Heart replied excitedly, sending an image of the same cave but from a different angle.

Satisfied that the Thorn Heart knew where to go, I cancelled its projection and waited.

Swimming to the surface, I made a point of putting the willow tree between myself and the cave I called home. I wanted to keep as many potential obstacles between myself and my family as possible. So long as I couldn’t see them, it wouldn’t be nearly so bad when I had to leave again.

The Lizardmen noted my presence but maintained a respectful distance.

After waiting for roughly ten minutes I opened a Breach and brought the Thorn Heart into Sanctuary.

Abandoning its armoured plates on the shore, the Thorn Heart began playing in the shallows like a small child.

Remotely viewing and cycling through my champions, I found Gric watching the Semenovian King and Queen extracting oaths from the remainder of their court. With the key persons of influence already on their side, recruiting the remaining nobles was a preparatory step for the mass migration and the imminent arrival of the King and Queen’s personal allies.

Unknown to the nobles themselves, Gric was rifling through their thoughts while assigning them personalised quests and responsibilities. The rewards were somewhat higher than I had expected, but Gric had also included penalties that would punish anyone who failed in their assigned tasks. The quests weren’t mandatory but there was an extreme degree of social pressure for everyone to accept any quests they were given.

Savva and Katia had barely finished securing oaths from the nobles of their court when the first delegations representing their allies began to arrive.

Far larger than I had otherwise expected, the first delegation contained a dozen children and nearly as many youths no older than twelve alongside a handful of elderly servants. One of the children, a boy of nine years at most, Borya of House Koslov, was announced as representative and patriarch of his house.

Despite his young age, Borya carried himself with a near-perfect imitation of the pride and dignity projected by the nobles of the Semenovian court. However, beneath the facade, I could see the fear and desperation in his eyes.

As more delegations of the Semenovians' allies arrived, House Koslov’s circumstances quickly proved to be the standard rather than the exception.

I shifted my remote viewing to Gric instead, curious to learn his perspective on unfolding events.

<Depending upon the assurances the Semenovian Faction offers, many of their allies intend to use this location to seek exile in neighbouring lands.> Gric commented neutrally before panning his gaze toward the boy of House Koslov. <But not all.> I could sense his respect for the young boy through the telepathic link. <He intends to return, to try and make a difference.>

<He is just a child...> I realised the hypocrisy almost immediately. I had put Gric and his siblings to work mere hours after they had hatched.

Gric wasn’t even a year old...

<I am not a human, my Tyrant.> Gric commented with absolute confidence and pride, mistaking my misgivings for indirect praise. His thoughts became momentarily unreadable. <Underlord Clarice’s blood relatives have been located.> With sheer force of will, Gric guided my consciousness toward one of his active projections.

Gric’s projection was racing across the rooftops of an unfamiliar city, clearing several buildings in a single bound and tearing out fistfuls of ceramic tiles and wooden beams in the process. <Imminent violence has been confirmed.> The projection arrested its movement and stared intensely into the distance. <Resistance is...Greater than anticipated...>

<Do it.> A second and unstrained iteration of Gric’s voice commanded.

Without hesitation, the projection gathered its mana, tore open a Breach and leapt into it.

Still following the projection, I felt a surge of agony pass through the telepathic connection.

Gric’s projection lay in mangled pieces upon a rough stone floor determinedly clinging to life as his ichorous blood flowed freely from his severed limbs and torso.

Terrified screams and confused shouts echoed through the chamber and drew my attention away from the dying projection and toward the room at large.

Bearing a striking resemblance to a prison, the large stone chamber had two incredibly large cells formed from the stone walls and thick iron bars. A wide corridor down the centre with bars on either side allowed travel through the chamber.

A ragged line of fighting-aged men occupied the corridor and had spears extended into the leftmost cell, driving back its occupants while a much smaller cadre of men moved about within.

The men within the cell were calling out orders to those in the corridor while those in the corridor shouted at one another and generally added to the confusion.

“Ssslavvversss...” Gric’s projection declared with a contemptuous gurgle, blood spattering his lips and chin before rapidly disintegrating.

The cries of the Slavers immediately fell silent as spears of stone lanced from the floor and ceiling, tearing through their skulls and impaling them in place.

Whether it was the result of mana depletion or his catastrophic injuries, Gric’s projection disappeared and my perception reverted.

Everything had happened so quickly that it took a few moments for my brain to catch up.

Hurriedly changing to my human disguise, I gathered my mana and focused on the memory of the stone chamber.

The Thorn Heart had noticed my distress and was hurriedly swimming back toward me.

I had lost track of time while forming the Breach and felt a rush of panic upon coming back to my senses. “Follow me!” I barked and then stepped through the Breach.

Something struck my head, causing me to stagger. I would have fallen if the Thorn Heart hadn’t passed through the Breach and arrived right behind me.

Thrashing its thorny vines, the Thorn Heart charged toward the enemy, leaving me behind.

Blood ran freely down the right side of my scalp and face, leaving me blind in my right eye.

Following the movement of the Thorn Heart through the gloom, I found it thrashing, bashing and constricting the members of a small cluster of heavily armed men standing at the bottom of a set of large stairs.

“OBEY!” A deep resonating voice demanded, sending a powerful will crashing into my own. “I SAID-OB-urk!...” One of the men in the rear of the formation staggered backward and collapsed onto the stairs.

The attempted Enslavement of the Thorn Heart filled me with rage. “NO!” I roared, casting out my will and viciously contesting every Bond I could find.

“Vladdi! Shit!” One of the men swore in a panic.

“Get up you useless fuck!” Another cursed while frantically fending off one of the Lizardmen. “I’m not dying for you!”

“We need to get out of here!” My focus was immediately drawn to a man in boiled leathers reloading a crossbow in the rear of the formation.

“YOU!” I snarled, swiping my left hand and expending a chunk of mana to form a barbed spike of stone out of the wall.

Taken by surprise, the man was unable to dodge in time and was gored by the spike. The brittle stone shaft of the spike snapped as the man’s body grew limp, sending him tumbling down the stairs and into the flank of his companions.

Down four members already, one of the men cast down his weapons and fled. The others moved to do the same but were caught by the Thorn Heart and cast to the ground. In a fit of bloodlust, it tore the two men apart, limb from bloody limb.

As the last of the screams died down, we were left in near absolute silence.

The dim light cast by the torches of the Slavers left both of the cells near completely shrouded in darkness and deep shadows. Even so, I could sense the Slaves huddled within the darkness of the cells on either side of me, pressing themselves hard against the walls to put as much distance between themselves and the bars as possible. Someone had even gone so far as to extinguish the torches the Slavers had taken inside the cell.

In my fury, I had lost my concentration and the Breach had collapsed.

I still had plenty of mana, so opening another Breach wouldn’t be a problem. However, I could tell, even without counting, that sending the Slaves I had seized back to Sanctuary would cost more mana than I currently had.

Pawing away the blood from my brow, I flinched as my fingers made contact with exposed bone.

Conjuring a first aid kit from Sanctuary’s hospital, I shakily sat down and did my best to apply a pressure bandage to the wound to slow the bleeding. The lightstone within the first-aid kit provided enough illumination to work by but was too weak to make out anything else.

After binding the wound, I used more bandages and a jar of rubbing alcohol to clean the blood away from around my right eye and restore my vision.

While I was preoccupied, the Thorn Heart had adopted a defensive position blocking the stairs that the Slavers' reinforcements had used to enter the chamber.

Slowly rising to my feet, I faltered as an attempt was made to seize control over one of the Slaves.

Grimacing from the pain, I allowed myself to fall to my hands and knees so I could direct my entire focus toward contesting the challenge for control.

Before I could crush the opposition, two more contests of will joined the efforts of the first. Three more contests of will joined only moments afterwards and I barely managed to recognise a telepathic link connecting to my mind through the mounting pressure and pain.

<Great One! You are within the city?!> Sebet’s voice echoed faintly in the periphery of my mind. <I am only a short distance away!>

In my peripheral vision, I could see the Thorn Heart fighting to hold the entrance to the stairs and slowly losing ground as blossoms of liquid fire crashed against its body and set it ablaze.

The mounting pain and increasing demands on my focus made it difficult to think let alone react in any meaningful way. However, I knew that if I continued to surrender the initiative and allow the enemy to dictate the terms of our engagement, we would be overrun.

“SEBET!” I roared, recklessly Summoning the Devil to come to my aid.

The sudden depletion of mana left me even more lightheaded and my vision began to blur and shift as the pain and pressure inched ever closer to destroying my mind.

Without warning, the pressure subsided as the strongest contender bowed out and surrendered their challenge.

Cries of terror and pain echoed through the chamber as I regained awareness of my surroundings.

The Thorn Heart, its limbs and trunk smoking and smouldering continued its reluctant retreat from the staircase. However, as the Thorn Heart retreated, the light cast by the flickering flames stubbornly clinging to its limbs revealed Sebet in all her infernal glory.

Armed with only her talons, fangs and whip-like prehensile tail, Sebet launched herself into the armed men on the staircase with furious abandon. With a single beat of her bat-like wings, Sebet extinguished the Thorn Heart and closed the distance between herself and her prey.

Tall but wiry, Sebet’s superior reach and impossible speed allowed her to slash the armed men in the forefront to bloody ribbons before they had time to react to her presence.

Disembowelling and then strangling another man with his innards, Sebet released an ear-bloodening screech.

Several men collapsed on the spot, their eyes rolling up into their skulls as their flesh withered and greyed in under a fraction of a second. Those who survived cast down their weapons in panic and bolted back up the stairs, pushing, shoving and even sacrificing several of their own in their desperation to escape.

A second identical screech echoed from up the stairs and brought a fresh wave of terrified screams in reply.

Blood splashed and spattered against the walls and steps as Sebet chased the survivors up the staircase before disappearing from sight.

Screams of terror and panic echoed down the staircase and were punctuated by more ear-bloodening screeching.

One by one, the contests of will were abruptly terminated and the pain and pressure in my head abated.

Sagging with relief, I took several ragged breaths to try and return the strength to my arms and legs.

Every muscle in my body ached and my head felt like it was throbbing in time with my heartbeat. However, I refused to remain completely idle.

Ignoring the terrified screams echoing down the stairs, I forced myself to my feet.

Sensing a surge of mana in my vicinity, I pushed back against the pain and prepared myself for battle.

The Thorn Heart, despite its severe burns, writhed into motion.

A ragged black gash formed in the air a few feet away from my position.

“Wait,” I motioned for the Thorn Heart to wait until we could confirm whether the Breach was formed by a friend or foe before launching its attack.

A short man with rust-red hair and dark cruel eyes stepped out of the Breach. The designs of his armour were unfamiliar, but the fresh blood on his boots and gauntlets made it clear that he had recently participated in violence. Just as the indulgent smile on his lips announced that he had enjoyed it.

Or rather, it revealed how ‘she’ had enjoyed it.

“Sebet,” I acknowledged the Devil with a curt nod and waved the Thorn Heart down.

Sebet’s borrowed face smiled broadly. “I apologise for the delay. I was presented with a prime opportunity and was ill-prepared to abandon it on such short notice,” she apologised with remarkable sincerity tinged with a hint of anxiety and distraction as her eyes scanned the darkness of the cells. “Ah, there they are,” Sebet sighed with relief and retrieved one of the torches from the floor.

The screams continued but grew fainter and fewer with each passing moment.

Sebet appeared to be ignoring them, utterly fixated on the subjects of her interest.

The flickering light cast by the torch revealed a host of fearful and pitiable faces.

Men and women in torn filthy clothing subconsciously drew together in response to Sebet’s approach. The alarmingly large number of children were shepherded toward the wall and out of sight as the oldest Slaves moved to the forefront.

An elderly woman shakily stepped forward and imposed herself between Sebet and the other Slaves. Raising her gnarled fists and glaring defiantly with her one good eye, the old woman looked prepared to go down fighting before allowing Sebet to draw any closer.

Suddenly, the old woman’s attention shifted from Sebet to her own hands. Wrinkled mouth agape, she appeared confused and extremely disoriented.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Sebet chuckled dryly. “To pray every waking moment of every day for the pain to disappear, to regain control over your own body...” She strode past the old woman and snorted derisively while shaking her head. It was an expression that suited her stolen face all too well.

Searching the bodies of the impaled Slavers for keys to the other cell, I made a conscious effort not to look at their faces. Despite their involvement, I couldn’t see them as anything but human. Without the adrenaline blurring my core morals, I struggled to rationalise their deaths against my conscience.

Gric had killed them, but I had allowed it. The responsibility was mine, not his.

I knew Gric well enough to know that he wouldn’t break any of my rules or laws. Which meant the Slavers had been committed to imminent violence and murder. However, unlike Gric and Sebet, I couldn’t read minds, and a part of me couldn’t help but harbour doubts.

Keys in hand, I unlocked the leftmost cell’s door and then opened it wide.

I could feel the eyes of the Slaves watching me and waiting to see what would happen next.

My mana was steadily recovering but Summoning Sebet’s projection to drive off the Slavers had set me back considerably. Having had a few moments to think things over, I decided that Summoning one of my Human champions would have been a better alternative. Similarly, closing off the staircase with a wall of stone would have been a far wiser decision by far.

Taking a few moments to form an actual plan and don my armour would have been even better...

“Clarithe?!” The outburst from the right cell caught me somewhat unawares and snapped my ragged nerves back into a raw state of readiness. “Clarithe really thent you to rethcue uth?!” The young girl's voice sounded equal parts amazed, relieved and profoundly incredulous.

“Indeed,” Sebet replied warmly. “Your sister has leveraged her standing with incredibly powerful people to make this rescue possible.” The voice of her stolen identity sounded ill-suited for the earnest sincerity Sebet was attempting to convey. It made her words sound sarcastic and ever so slightly condescending.

“That...That can’t be true...” A woman’s voice refuted hesitantly. “Unless... Are...Are you and her?...”

“Exchanging physical gratification for favours?” Sebet suggested candidly and with obvious amusement. “No. Not for favours at any rate,” she amended. “It is early days,” Sebet observed wistfully, “However, I have become quite fond of Clarice and her adorably depraved imagination.”

“So...this is a rescue then?” Another woman asked with restrained optimism.

“If you allow it to be,” Sebet replied cheerily.

Low murmurs rose from the mass of Slaves.

“What does that mean?” Someone asked warily, immediately silencing the wider crowd as everyone began straining their ears to hear Sebet’s response.

“Just like everything else, freedom has its price,” Sebet replied sagely, grinning all the while.

The Slaves remained silent, although it was unclear whether they were waiting for Sebet to elaborate or were upset or surprised by her answer.

Unphased, Sebet took several steps back and opened her arms wide with a flourish. “You desire to be freed from your Enslavement? Completely understandable, laudable even. However, your rescue has been made as a result of substantial expense and the leveraging of favours against powerful individuals...”

The tension in the chamber rose with every passing moment and Sebet made no attempts at disguising her enjoyment at being the centre of their undivided attention.

“In the bluntest sense, you may exchange one master for another. Trade the shackles within your mind for oaths within your soul...” Sebet’s eyes flashed and she released a pulse of mana. “Right here and now, you have a choice. For most of you, this offer not only represents your best chance at survival but your chance to live your life in peace. Even now, the Confederate armies are marching on the crumbling ruins of this decadent Empire. If you choose to reject our offer, and yes, you can refuse-” She looked pointedly at a random member of the enthralled Slaves. “-You will become Enslaved and cast into bondage for the remainder of your short miserable lives...The choice is yours...”

“W-We can leave?” One of the Slaves asked in surprise, “Just like that?”

Sebet located the speaker with the unerring precision of a telepath. “Of course,” she answered sincerely. “However, the means by which you choose to leave will greatly influence your immediate future and potential for anything more besides.”

The crowd shifted uneasily.

“Just have to swear an oath? Serve a new Master?” An elderly man at the front of the crowd asked hesitantly while nervously wringing his hands.

“You will become citizens of a just and powerful monarch,” Sebet corrected in an encouraging tone. “Upon swearing oaths of fealty and compliance to his laws, you will enter into his protection.”

“A-And the Enslavement?” The old man pressed anxiously. Glancing several times toward members located deeper within the crowd.

“Regardless of your choice, the Enslavement will be removed,” Sebet stated magnanimously. “As of this moment, it is maintained only to ensure your protection from any of the surviving Slavers.”

“I...” The old man worried at the hem of his tattered filthy shirt and stared at the ground. “I will swear fealty...” He shuffled a few steps ahead of the crowd then began stiffly lowering himself to the ground.

“There is no need to debase yourself in such a manner,” Sebet stated warmly and assisted the old man back into a standing position. “An oath upon your life to follow the laws is sufficient.”

Sebet then listed the laws in their entirety and provided a simplified oath for the old man to repeat.

“On my life, I swear to obey these laws and the commands of my Lord,” the old man winced as if expecting to be struck down where he stood. Only, of course, nothing happened.

Sebet patted the old man’s shoulder approvingly. “Albin, it is my sincere privilege to extend to you the offer of the Tyrant's protection.”

The old man, Albin, stared at Sebet for a few moments with a stunned look of incomprehension on his face.

I soon realised why.

Sebet had extended an invitation to Albin for him to become my subject. The sudden appearance of the visual component of the invitation had no doubt caught him thoroughly by surprise. As a Slave, Albin had probably expected the notification to represent an alert signalling imminent pain.

Sebet gave Albin a respectful nod, smiling all the while. “You have made the objectively superior decision.” She turned to the crowd at large, “I encourage those who wish to leave and take their chances against the Confederates to leave via the stairs leading to the surface-” Sebet motioned dismissively to the bloodsoaked stairs strewn with the mutilated bodies of the dead Slavers. “-Those who wish to leave with us? I ask that you form into groups of no more than ten and form an orderly line in preparation for our departure.”

“With magic?!” The young girl with the lisp called out excitedly.

“With magic!” Sebet agreed emphatically. To accentuate her point, Sebet conjured a small mountain of food, water, and basic clothing seemingly out of thin air.

Despite a measure of initial misgivings, Sebet managed to convince nearly all of the Slaves to accept her offer.

A number of the holdouts had initially refused because they still had family within the city and wouldn’t leave them behind. However, Sebet had convinced them by making an oath to attempt their evacuation to the best of her ability.

Of course, the oath hadn’t been made with her life as collateral. Sebet had managed to obfuscate the exact nature of the penalty through flowery language, but I was fairly certain that the holdouts hadn’t noticed that particular detail.

The humans weren’t the only Slaves I had seized from the Slavers. There were almost as many monsters located deeper within the complex.

Despite my desire to liberate them personally, I was in no condition to explore the lower levels. Similarly, the Thorn Heart was little better and lacked a viable means of communicating with large crowds without risking a confrontation.

This left Sebet as the only option that wouldn’t drain my mana and delay our departure even further. Not that Sebet seemed to particularly mind.

In Sebet’s absence, I focused on accelerating my recovery. Conjuring rations of my own, I worked my way through them without really sparing a thought toward the taste or texture, focused only on staving off the irrational hunger lurking in the back of my mind.

By the time Sebet returned, the throbbing pain in my head had significantly subsided.

The memory of Gric’s mutilated projection was still fresh in my mind, so I took my time forming the Spatial Breach that would take us all to my Demi-Plane.

With the Daemons still hard at work securing the territory for the Werrian and Semenovian refugees, I opted for sending the freed human Slaves to Acheron for the immediate future. Once the Semenovians were established, I would allow them all to choose their factions as they see fit.

As much to show that the Breach was ‘safe’ as I was eager to retreat to a position of absolute safety and relax, I entered the Breach first. For the sake of appearances and providing assurances to those that would follow, I decided to linger within Acheron until everyone was settled.

The monsters we had liberated were not what I had expected...

Felids.

The Felids were anthropomorphic humanoids that bore an extreme similarity to Kobolds. However, they resembled feline features rather than those of canines and appeared to share several feline behavioural traits as well.

The overall cohesion of the Felids as a group gave me the impression that they belonged to a single tribe or perhaps a small handful of neighbouring tribes. Unlike the humans, the Felids male population appeared to be close to intact.

There was a possibility that they had been underestimated as combatants. However, it was far more likely that the Slavers had kept the Felids a secret to turn a future profit.

While observing the Felids, I temporarily lost track of Sebet. When I found her again, she had taken on her Human-Devil hybrid form and was conversing with Clarice’s assembled relatives.

The varying shades of red hair in addition to a dark-tanned complexion made them easy enough to recognise at a distance, but that was where the similarities ended. Each of the five women had strikingly different features from one another and only a passing resemblance to Clarice.

It occurred to me that Gric had never specified how they were related to Clarice, only the fact that they were her relatives. Given Gric’s personality, it was impossible to know for sure without asking him directly or imposing myself upon them.

Unless I asked Clarice herself...

After taking a few minutes to make myself more presentable and donning my armour, I opened a Breach to the council chamber within the Semenovians’ capital.

Before I could step through the Breach, Clarice crashed into me and nearly sent us both sprawling.

“FUCKING FUCK!!!” Clarice swore and gingerly tented her hands over her nose while staggering backward and toward the Breach.

I terminated the Breach to prevent yet another accident. “I didn’t expect you to come charging out like that. Sorry,” I apologised with feigned sincerity. The mounting stress was getting to me and I knew it had only just started.

Demonstrating a rare example of good judgement, Clarice chose not to escalate. “Sorry...It just fucking hurts...” She muttered.

“Clarice?!” One of the women called out incredulously. “Is that...Is that really Clarice?!”

Clarice winced. “Don’t suppose you could take us somewhere else?” She asked while leaning to the side slightly and peeking toward her relatives.

I glared at Clarice and fought hard not to lose my temper.

“Right..yeah...stupid question...” Clarice agitatedly ran a hand through her hair and took several frantic breaths as she tried and failed to calm herself.

“Clarice...” I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. “I just wanted to be sure. Are those the family members you sent us to find?”

Clarice pursed her lips and averted her eyes. “Yeah...I mean, I didn’t expect you to find my cousins and their spawn...” She snorted derisively and shook her head with a bemused expression on her face and a conflicted look in her eyes. “Where you found them...You didn’t find anyone else?”

“No,” I replied bluntly and narrowly avoided adding that we probably wouldn’t find anyone else. The chances of finding a male relative remotely close to fighting age were nearly non-existent.

I could tell by the look in Clarice’s eyes that she already knew it for herself but couldn’t bring herself to discuss it.

“You don’t want to go talk to them?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder toward Sebet and Clarice’s sisters and cousins.

“I don’t...” Clarice agreed guiltily. “I just needed to see them for myself. To know that they are alive...” She grimaced and turned away, “Can you take us somewhere else? I can’t stand the thought of talking to her right now...”

“Sure...” The anger in Clarice’s voice caught me off guard and reminded me that she had been incredibly conflicted in seeking my help in the first place. Out of courtesy and cowardice, I hadn’t pressed the issue further. I was now regretting that decision.

Using my authority, I relocated myself and Clarice to an isolated stretch of road in the middle of nowhere. As isolated as the roads between villages spaced a half day’s travel by foot could be considered to be. With no further need for my armour, I sent it back to Sanctuary’s treasury.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Clarices stated firmly, guessing at my motives. “I’m grateful for what you’ve done, Tim, but I...I really don’t want to talk about it...I...I can’t...” Her voice cracked and she backed several steps away, hurriedly hiding her face as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “I tried so hard to leave all this shit behind!” Clarice hissed bitterly and kicked at a bush by the side of the road.

“Sebet knows? Have you talked with her about it?” I asked while trying to restrain my curiosity.

Clarice hissed in frustration and scowled at the sky. “Of course she fucking knows!” She hissed bitterly in frustration. “She can read my fucking mind! Have you ever tried keeping something from someone that can do that?!” Clarice snapped angrily before raising her hands in apology and vigorously shaking her head. “Sorry Tim, it’s just seeing them again, seeing her!...” She released a low guttural growl and clenched her fists so tightly that her palms began to bleed.

I didn’t know what to say and a long silence passed between us.

“Do you know what it’s like to hate someone, like really hate them with all of your fucking soul?” Clarice croaked. “To hate them, but...but you can’t stop loving them...even after all the fucked up shit they did?” She shook her head and released a hollow barking laugh.

“No,” I admitted honestly. “Before I came to this world, there was only one person I loved, and so far as I know, she was the only one who loved me. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to hate her...”

With her back still facing me, Clarice wiped at her eyes with her forearm.

“But for a long time, I hated the woman who threw me away. The person who should have loved me and protected me cared for me...” Learning the exact nature of my abandonment as an infant had left deep scars in my psyche and a host of questions that continued to fuel doubts after close to a decade of therapy. “On some level, I still hate her. But as fucked up as it sounds, I wouldn’t be the person I am now if she hadn’t done what she did. I wouldn’t be here in this world. I wouldn’t have met any of you. I wouldn’t have Lash, Pete and Suzy...” My voice broke and I took a moment to collect myself. “Even now, there is a part of me that wonders how different my life would have been if that person had made a different choice. Which is pretty fucked up considering the very idea of having never met my Mum makes me feel physically ill.”

Clarice looked at me from over her shoulder with tears running freely down her face. She gave me a stiff yet oddly sincere grin. “I’m glad I met you, Tim. Really. I mean it. I...I’m glad you're here...” The grin slipped from her lips and her eyes darkened. “I just...I really want to be alone right now...Could you just send me home?”

I nodded and prepared to use my authority to send Clarice home. “Clarice, you don’t have to talk about it with me. But you should talk about it with someone. I won’t lie to you and promise that it will somehow fix things or that it will make you feel any better. However, no one can help you if you don’t give them the chance.”

Clarice looked away and nodded stiffly,

Realising that was the best I could hope for, I sent Clarice home and then spent a few minutes processing my feelings before returning to Acheron. There was more work to be done, and I had far too many responsibilities to be standing idle.

***** Lash ~ Tim’s Demi-Plane ~ Port Gidian *****

Towering above the Humans and other Species within the market, Lash had no trouble in remotely browsing the merchants’ goods despite the large crowds. Of course, her guards ensured that Lash could move freely through the market without fear of knocking anyone over while she was otherwise distracted.

While the concept of trade was not unfamiliar to her, Lash found the rapid exchange of goods and manastones to be fascinating.

The Humans had a true talent for getting what they wanted from one another as efficiently as possible.

The Goblin merchants appeared to be learning quickly and were emulating their Human competition with varying degrees of success.

Lash had already traded with the merchants for a handful of interesting items to sate her curiosity and participate in the exchange of goods. However, the outdoor market was not Lash’s true destination.

Continuing to make her way through the crowd, it didn’t take Lash long at all to enter a smaller and far less crowded market.

The smaller market did things differently than its larger kin. Instead of using wooden plaques to show what the merchants wanted in exchange for their goods, the trade was performed as a strange form of competition amongst those who wanted the item.

After watching a couple of competitions over the displayed items, Lash was approached by a Human female who had just successfully bought a small number of items.

Easily twice her height, Lash had to look down to meet the Human’s eyes.

“Please excuse my presumption, your Ladyship, but are you by chance looking to acquire something specific from the auction?” The Human asked politely, bobbing down slightly while pinching at her dark green dress and bowing her head in respect.

“Auction? The competition to buy the items?” Lash asked curiously. She had heard the word used several times already but hadn’t been sure she truly understood its meaning.

“Yes, your Ladyship has the right of it,” the Human replied with a friendly smile on her fangless lips.

Lash nodded. “I want gifts for my mate and children,” she explained matter-of-factly. “Advisors said this place has the strongest items.”

The human nodded in understanding. “I must beg your pardon once more, your Ladyship, but do you by chance have specific items in mind? Weapons with special properties perhaps? Or maybe rings that provide resistance to elemental damage?” She blushed slightly and bowed her head in apology. “I only ask because I make a living seeking out such items on behalf of those who might otherwise be too busy to attend these auctions themselves. I also maintain good relations with the auction house and its staff, so I generally know what will be put up for sale before members of the general public who walk in from the market.”

“You are-” Lash took a few moments to find the right word. “-compensated manastones for trading for others?”

The Human nodded earnestly. “Indeed, it is just as your Ladyship says.” She made the strange squatting and dress-pinching gesture again.

“Do you have children?” Lash asked curiously. She had a difficult time telling how old Humans were sometimes and their conversion into monsters had only made it more complicated.

The Human female’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Ah, not yet, your Ladyship. My husband and I have not, ah, had much luck since starting our new life under the protection of the Tyrant...N-Not that we aren’t incredibly grateful!” She added hastily.

“Luck?” Lash tilted her head slightly in confusion.

The Human’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red and she no longer seemed capable of looking Lash in the eye. “Well, ah, we have been trying...It’s just, we haven’t...”

“The Human Mothers Moon has passed?” Lash asked, thoroughly confused and failing to understand how the Human and her Bonded mate could fail to create a child under a Mothers Moon.

“Mothers moon?” The Humans asked hesitantly. “I...I’m sorry, your Ladyship, I don’t know what that is...”

“You want a child, but you don’t know of the Mothers Moon?” Lash exclaimed incredulously, taken aback by the Human’s profound degree of ignorance. Lash then recalled a conversation Tim had with one of his Daemons and the Human Nadine. Humans, before they had changed into monsters, had not needed a Mothers Moon to become pregnant, and most bizarre of all, their children were born without the shell of an egg to protect them.

The Human shifted uneasily in her embarrassment.

Lash signed and adopted a squatting stance that brought them much closer to being eye-to-eye with one another. There was no telling what the Humans didn’t know, so Lash prepared herself for a long explanation. She just hoped that the Human’s ignorance was an exception. If it wasn’t, then Lash would need to sit all the Human leaders down and find out why they were failing their duty.