Cas had never taken to shyness, and she'd been even less inclined to mince words.
She'd been the type to correct a bad order at a restaurant, tell her friends they were full of shit and express herself quite loudly when things didn't go her way.
Paradoxically, Cas reacted most intensely to the things she cared about the least. When things became serious, her first instinct was to grow cold, and she'd never felt so numb as she did now.
"Why should I be killed?"
Cas surprised herself with the composure of her words, and the woman joined in to surprise her with the answer.
"Because you're a monster," she answered with an obvious chuckle. "Don't tell me you expected to find yourself amongst friends here." Engaged with packing away her slime and other accoutrements, the woman had already lost most of her interest in the slime, addressing the veiled girl that stood on the far-side of the tent. "Help me up would you! And get that fool chief over here! Let him know my business with this thing is done!"
The girl ran over and took the old woman by the arm, lifting her up. Cas saw the routine posture the woman took, and the lack of care the girl had to even look in her direction, and that icy, tundric, feeling that froze her in place only grew colder, and pressed harder for her to stay still as a thousand roiling emotions built up inside her, ready to explode. They... they were really just going to kill her. Of course they were...
What hurt more than the death sentence was perhaps her own sense of self importance. Cas had gone through so much. She'd died, lived, escaped, and the rocking realization that the rest of the world didn't even bother to spare a glance in her direction before wiping her out... hurt. Again, that fire in her belly, that explosive, compressed energy flared. It wanted to burst out and ask for this lady's manager, heck, it wanted to email the vice-president of this entire world! It was unfair! But Cas had been slapped too many times for making a grocery-store outburst, and she was quite skilled in directing that fire into more useful avenues, so -- with nothing to lose and death harrying her silence, she spoke with a carelessness that belied her thougtfulness.
The next words from her mouth were spoken in real-time, in tandem with flashes of thought so random that the end result surprised Cas herself, even as she spoke them:
"I don't think that would be in your best interest," Cas spoke. The lady simply kept packing away her things, so Cas, again with the most bored expression, added: "I don't think the goddess of wisdom would be happy with your actions, either."
The elder whipped a deadly look over at her, speaking mechanically. "Why do you feel so comfortable speaking the goddesses name?" For the first time, a clear expression rounded about the woman's features. It was an expression of great distaste addled in amongst a little curiosity, looking offended.
Cas didn't care what offended the woman at this point. She could hardly have her killed twice, after all. Still, she tempered her bravado, adopting an appropriate level of polite reverence as she continued: "I feel comfortable invoking her name because she is a goddess of good, and truth. I can answer to her call with my head held high. Can you answer why you think it's appropriate to kill me?" Cas asked as if it were the most natural question in the world, channeling all the energy of a smarmy debate team captain she once knew.
"Because you're literally a monster..." the woman furrowed her brow as if deflecting stupidity.
Welp, she had her there, Cas admitted, but didn't show it, only replying -- in the most obvious tone, "obviously, I'm not a monster. My powers of speech should speak to that much."
The woman had a frustrated edge to her voice, but Cas was relieved when she sat back down, apparently determined to see this argument through. "A talking monster is still a monster." The elder spoke bluntly and with few attempts at justifying her reasoning.
"A talking monster, wouldn't show respect to the goddess of wisdom, unless you believe she answers the calls of monsters with open arms," Cas challenged. "As we've established, I'm a creature from another world, whatever body I happen to inhabit now is of no consequence."
"There are monsters on other words as well." The woman spoke in a tired voice. "Am I to believe that that a benevolent creature would choose the form of a monster in this world?"
"Yes," Cas answered simply, running over the woman's surprised expression to continue: "or, would you rather I kill some innocent soul and inhabit their body. The fact of the matter is, monsters are the perfect vessels, as I believe they're the only targets the goddess would forgive the killing of. Besides, if I were determined to cross the plain for the banal reason of committing monstrous acts, I believe a human form would be far better suited to that task. Humans are far more capable of committing evil than most slimes, I'm sure you'd agree, and I'd get far less scrutiny in either case."
The woman had a dangerous poker face, but the increasing time she took to think told volumes. She moved, at last, to retort, but Cas cut off her reply before she had time to gather any opposing thoughts.
"I'll be perfectly honest," Cas continued, speaking with an eloquence she'd never thought herself capable, "I'm not happy about the new form I've had to inhabit, but this isn't a sacrifice I'd make lightly. My mission, my sacred oath, requires that I serve the good, and if this is the fate I must endure in order to fulfill that task, then I ask only that you don't get in my way."
Perfectly honestly. The only thing Cas knew about "The goddess of wisdom" was that she existed -- on account of the old woman having invoked her five minutes ago to start their conversation. She vaguely remembered that the Nemorian's in game worshiped a god or two, but Cas wasn't one for lore logs, and hardly watched the cut-scenes in either case, so she settled on 'sacred oath' as something the goddess might charge people with... at least, it seemed more proper than the 'job description' that had almost slipped from her out of habit.
Cas spoke each word in rapid fire succession, and her arguments -- however convincing they may have been -- seemed to at least bewilder the old woman into asking more questions. "Sacred oath?" her fox ears canted in a curious notion, "mission? What exactly are you speaking of?"
"That, I'm not clear of," Cas admitted, "but your village... I can see it's been through rough times."
Cas kept her observation vague and formulaic, but it wasn't all sophistry. The first thing she'd noticed in the town was how... well worn everything looked. The axe handles the men had were worn through until they had indentations, and the metal on their heads pock marked. The people looked healthy enough, but were gaunt to a man.
Thin people were expected in any place, of course, but to not have a single well fed merchant or trader, to not have a single person that didn't eat their evening meal like a desperate orphan... well, it certainly painted a town in dire straights. And that painting -- to tell by the uncomfortable expression on the woman's face -- seemed an accurate one.
"Our village... has gone through hard times, as have the other five tribes."
Bingo!
Cas, still locked in that chill cage of shock, was kept from expressing her full desperation as she answered:
"Allow me one year," Cas answered simply. "If I haven't solved your issue by then... kill me."
The woman only answered with a suspicious eyebrow. "A worrying prospect," she said.
"Why worry?" Cas retorted, surprising herself with how little frustration showed in her voice. "As I said, if destruction was my goal, there are a myriad monstrous forms better suited to that task, don't you agree? As I am, I'm incapable of doing anything too troublesome. Besides, even if I did manage to outrun a snail, I don't exactly have any avenue of escape in this desert. I'd just burn to death out there."
The woman paused shrewdly, thinking carefully and wagging her head as if readjusting billiard balls in her mind. "And... you say that you can solve our water issue?"
"I'm certain I can," Cas lied. "I was called upon to right an evil in this world, after all. Besides, you have nothing to lose in this situation. If I fix your problem, good, and if I don't, you can kill me as you were planning to. It's an excellent deal on your end." Cas tried to present a winning smile, unsure of how it looked with her artificial lips.
"The devil makes deals that are hard to refuse," the woman seemed convinced of something at this point. Whether it was of Cas's arguments or her execution was unclear, however. "I don't understand your confidence," she continued, "why are you willing to make such terms with us? We could decide to kill you even if you fixed our problem, after all."
Cas, for the first time in the conversation, thought a moment for how to answer that, eventually settling on the obvious:
"Then you wouldn't be a woman of your word --" Cas said, glinting her crystall eye up at the woman " -- and that'll be that."
Cas, for once, surprised herself with how comfortably she accepted that prospect.
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Something Cas said seemed to have impressed the elder woman, considering she was still alive. Though, to this day, she wasn't quite sure whether that was her argumentation or just her general gumption. That was an important question, because Cas did think it had a bearing on whether she was going to be betrayed and killed in six months time... assuming she didn't get killed for failing to solve the water crisis, that is.
So far, Cas had made little progress tackling the issue, but she hardly blamed her self. Her first priority -- as well as what she'd spent the first six month's doing -- was language acquisition. Cas was surprised at how quickly one could pick up a language when surrounded by native speakers, and Cas had more than enough practice partners after her initial arrival. Probably too many actually, as she was -- for a few months -- quite the star attraction in the town. Crowds generally formed around her after work hours, and she'd been the centerpiece to many weaving sessions at the local ladies living rooms, generally drawing laughs whenever she made an embarrassing grammar mistake. She drew a lot of laughs.
Cas was honestly surprised at her level of popularity, considering she was technically a monster -- both in game mechanics terms as well as apparently this world's rules as well. Apparently, however, slimes were considered more nuisances than actual 'monsters' considering the only way for someone to get killed by a slime was to fall into one and then fall asleep. Slimes were, in general, considered boring, unless they could talk, that was.
Even regular folks from the other five villages made the pilgrimage to meet the amazing talking slime... and the more she spoke the more impressed people became!
The novelty more than wore off, however, and come the Fall season everyone dropped her like a one-hit-wonder. Everyone, that was, except:
"Kari here!" the excitable girl popped up in her usual fashion -- out of nowhere. "Where we going today?" she asked, scooping Cas up in a cloth bag and hefting her up into a hug that left Cas hanging inches beneath the girl's chin.
"Be careful with the cloth," Cas chided, "your face might accidentally touch me."
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Kari only skipped along the main road with a carefree attitude. "You know," she said, a touch blamefully, "elder Korivena says you wouldn't be so poisonous if you didn't eat so many ants."
Cas resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the girl's nagging. "Well, honey, what's done is done. Take a left here, we have to go to the fixer's place first."
Cas had been given a substantial amount of freedom after her release. She'd been expecting a guard or two... or at least to be kept locked up in a cage at night, but it seemed no one around here was concerned about her running away. It took her a good twenty minutes to crawl across the village, after all, and she generally required a ride from the walking people whenever she wanted to get anywhere quick.
At first, people had been happy to oblige, but -- as her popularity waned -- as had people's willingness to spend time carrying a toxic ball of gelatin.
Of course, in this regard, Kari was also happy to keep helping, skipping along the desert sands -- her red robes flowing behind her in the desert wind as her sandaled feet deftly traversed across the uneven waves of sand that surrounded the village.
She was a strange girl, Cas appreciated, fixing her eye up to stare at the gentle smile which seemed ever-present on the girl's face. She'd been her biggest fan since day one, and that enthusiasm had waned not a bit since then. Of course, Cas guessed it wasn't just because of her amazing personality. Despite being pretty, sociable, and quite gentle, the girl had few friends... actually, Cas hadn't seen her speaking to a single child her own age.
All the village children knew each other, and got together on the daily to organize some large -- town wide-- game of mischief that the adults would look upon with curses of displeasure and laughter in equal measure. Kari, was never at these games. In fact, the only time the girl ever appeared near the other children was when they were all crowded around Cas herself, sometimes asking questions, other times throwing rocks, at which time Kari was often the one who leapt to her defense.
Kari never interacted with the other girls when they worked on their weaving either, because she didn't work.
In short, the girl seemed the type to make friends more easily with animals, and Cas was the most interesting animal around. In turn, Cas needed someone to carry her about, so she put up with the intensely inquisitive girl. It was a convenient relationship, though Cas often found herself curious enough to ask questions that went beyond convenience.
"Kari," Cas said.
"Uh hum?"
"What color am I?" Cas asked.
"Huh?"
"What color am I?" Cas asked.
"Uhm... Sariku," the girl answered, sounding more confused at having done so.
Cas almost sighed out of herself. "Uhm... could you tell me some other things that have that color?" Cas asked patiently.
The girl leapt to the task with an excitement that belied her earlier confusion, listing off in a sing song manner, "Well, tamari powder, some rocks, the sky, water-"
"That's enough," Cas interrupted, "I think I have an idea." This just as the fixer's place came into view. It was a quite unremarkable mud building with a cloth door. Stepping inside was an eclectic workshop, hastily cleaned in a last-minute attempt to be presentable to guests. The village chief, as well as Korivena -- the elder woman -- sat ready, both looking quite unhappy.
"You've kept us waiting," Korivena greeted.
"My apologies," Cas attempted a bow as soon as her body was place on the table, "I'm rather dependent on others for transportation. In either case, I trusted the decision would be made between you two."
"The decision will be made by myself alone," Nemaris, the village chief, grey beard set in a stubborn lock, glanced over at Korivena as if daring her to challenge the decision.
"The Oasis is your responsibility," Korivena acquiesced, "though I would have expected a man with such a responsibility to act with more care."
Ignoring the jab, Nemaris turned his full attention onto Cas. "I'm prepared to allow the harvesting of the tree. However, I'm quite unable to understand why you've requested that we cut down a tree if you have no intention of using the wood."
"I don't need the wood itself," Cas answered, voice bright. "I need to look at the tree rings in order to divine something of the nature of this drought."
"Superstitious nonsense," the Korivena scoffed. "I'd charge to read your tea leaves if you were so gullible. Nemaris, are you truly going to-"
"Yes, I am," he answered, voice tight with exasperation. "Fixer, the men aren't working today, yes?... Have them bring the saw from Nemovar village, let them know they're to harvest the tree by tommorow. Ensure they leave the stump in tact." He stood up at that and made to leave.
"So gullible," Korivena chided, a meanspirited lilt to her voice. "The proper ways have been handed down to us. It is not time to harvest that tree, not ten years too late."
Nemaris simply deflated at that. He said in a quiet voice, "we both know that Oasis doesn't have ten years left in it."
"So we're to just abandon all tradition in some frantic-"
"Enough!" Nemaris' voice filled the small space. Kari flinched back -- obviously surprised that the gentle man could be so imposing. "My decision is final! If you wish to discuss this topic further... don't." he finished off coolly and walked away, shouting behind him to the fixer. "Remember my words. I entrust everything to you!"
Korivena, cowed by the retort, simply flinched her eyes askance and left with an ugly look.
----------------------------------------
If you were surprised by the intensity of argument had over a tree, one that didn't have the words 'the sacred..." prepending it, well, so would've Cas until she spent a proper month in this place.
'Remote' would have been an understatement to describe this place. This series of five villages were in the heart of the Naraven desert. And, several hundred years ago, the demon queen Zarventh Raxui had begun her invasion of the world and the calamitous changes that reverberated throughout the land expanded the desert so that it ate up half the continent.
In the game, the entire tragedy had played out in three seconds, shown by the expanding field of brown that crawled across the map. Never for a moment had Cas appreciated that -- for the people actually living in the desert -- it was the end of the world.
It had been centuries since these villages had any contact with the outside world, and the state of things showed that reality in even the most minute details of the village life. Maintaining civilization around a single Oasis required prudence and frugality that bordered on the pathological. It required scheduling tree-cuttings decades in advance. It required having five villages share a single saw, and it generally made the whole world feel like the neighborhood block.
The fixer was a product of his environment. More than that, he was a necessary species, embodying most purely the things demanded of the people who survived here. Kari had long since left, huffing as she grew bored of the adult conversation they engaged in as the fixer sharpened the saw. It was evening by the time the saw had arrived, and the fixer worked by lamp-light, eyes keenly placed on the edge of the saw-blade as he ran the file over it. Beneath his work station, a white piece of cloth had been laid out, reflecting brilliantly in the dim light.
At first, Cas had been confused as to it's purpose until she saw, over the hours of gradual sharpening, a smoky film of metal particles dashing across it's surface. The fixer was collecting the metal dust, she realized, her shock at the realization briefly putting her on the back foot of their running argument.
"All's I'm saying is that you can't know," the fixer continued, his hands moving with a mechanical evenness and his voice not much more expressive. "Even if the desert didn't cover the whole world, who's to say the ocean didn't rise up and swallow what was left up? Yep, I sure this is the last city left on this world... and that Oasis there is the last green place, though even that's in doubt, now."
"By that logic, you can't know either, can you?" Cas retorted. "For all you know, the rest of the world could be carrying on just fine."
"Hmmm..." the fixer considered. His even temper made him a consummate debater. "Say, if that's the case, then how come no one from the outside world has come to this village in all this time. No one's seen an outsider since my grandfather's, grandfather's, grandfather." The fixer paused his work to do the generational math, shaking his head briefly in agreement with himself.
"Maybe the outside of the desert is just too far away?" Cas suggested.
"Too far... hmm, more like never-ending. I can assure you that."
Cas took that to be the end of the conversation, and they moved onto other topics of interest as the fixer worked through the night and Cas worked to keep him awake and entertained. She felt a bit of responsibility for his all-nighter, after all.
----------------------------------------
His grandfather's, grandfathers, grandfather... seven generations, and the people she'd seen around here had their kids at around twenty, so... that'd be a hundred and fifty years or just about.
Cas did the math and struggled over the history. That would put her, around the time of the start of the game. Granted, a lot happened in a short time once the game started, so it could either be a total warzone out there or... an even bigger total warzone, depending on the calendar date. Cas sometimes felt grateful for the cosmic luck that had plopped her in such an unassuming place. Siablo III was not a fun world, at least not for anyone that liked their organs to stay on the inside.
Her thoughts were caught off by a triumphal cheer and a heavy creek of splintering wood, as a shadow raced by and a thunderous crash brought the live-wood down onto the dirt. The adjoining crowd avoided her, rushing to the scene as the onlookers celebrated and the workmen immediately set about disassembling the structure.
Studying the rare axe handle had given Cas a good idea of what to expect from the interior of the trees. Still, she was curious to see the real deal, and -- far too interested to wait -- went immediately up to the trunk, weaving her way past the crowd, climbing up onto the short platform and turning her attention down at the surface of the thing. Dense rings alternated in light and dark bands, which she guessed to be alternating growth periods hinting at the spring and fall. And, counting from the edge-
"What are we looking at?" Kari asked, bending at the waist and placing hands on her knees to support her inquisitive look.
"Not right now, please," Cas motioned for the girl to be quiet, studying he rings. Kari harrumphed with displeasure, and the pang of guilt Cas felt was buried under ten miles of professional interest as she studied the ring pattern.
It was... a remarkably consistent ring pattern once the early growth spurt had been worked through. Growing up next to an Oasis with a constant water supply would do that. As expected, however, that consistency withered at the edge, as the rings grew thinner and more stingy with their growth periods. Leaning an eyestalk forward, Cas floated her crystal up to the very border of the appendage. Using her enhanced shape change, Cas merely imagined the world growing larger, and the tip of the stalk bulged like a magnifying glass, bringing everything into far clearer view as the delicate mess of stacked rings filled her vision.
From there it was easy to count but hard to believe. Looking at tree rings would have given a more accurate count of when the drought started. Trees would be affected by less water in the soil far before humans noticed the shrinking Oasis.
Cas, for her part, never really had any expectations for when the drought date would have been. However, she did find it curious that the rings started shrinking exactly five years ago... the same season that the first moss-plants in her cave started growing.