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87. Normal

-Bhashera, Forgotten City-

Yelena

Profession: Guardian LVL 3 EXP: 490/500 HP: 30/30 GLANCE: 20/20

“Hooooo-we!” Marius screeched as he entered the broken ruin of their camp in the dead city. “How we doing, team?”

Yelena could barely even smile at him. She was staring unblinkingly into the eyes of the Red-Woman. She didn’t know how to respond to her revelation.

And as usual, Marius had entered completely unaware of the predominating mood.

His eyes flit between the two women and then immediately gravitated towards the giant beetle.

“How ‘bout you, big Ed?” he asked. “What’s the word around camp? Any juicy gossip these two bisoms have been sharing?”

The creature opened one beady eyeball at him and gave him a snarl of warning as she returned to her snoozing by the fireside.

“Great,” he said. “Guess I’ll just talk to myself then.”

He sat down next to Yelena and started spilling out the contents of his pockets. A few shiny rocks and baubles rolled across the broken floor.

“Alright, I reckon you get the sapphires (they match your eyes) and I get the rubies because…I like money. A couple of these rings look valuable – they’re actually made of solid gold, don’t’cha know. Some bangles here…bracelets…mostly copper. To be honest, I’m surprised the Everloft has such common materials but, meh, a guy takes what he can. You listenin’?”

Yelena turned to him as though she’d only just seen him for the first time.

“You…you’ve done well, Marius.”

“Praise me more then, mistress,” the rogue laughed. Then, turning to the Red priestess. “Hey, Red – how much are these worth d’you reckon? Can I get a good price at the market once we, y’know, liberate it from the sugar-daddy bird?”

Her flaring pupils met him with only disdain. “We are being a barter economy, Thief. We do not use your Averix ‘gold’ or money. We trade in equivalent exchange in our markets. Value for value.”

“Uh-huh,” Marius nodded, rolling a shining pearl between his hands. “And how does one determine such value?”

The Red-Woman resumed her fire-gazing. “Negotiation.”

Marius looked at Yelena triumphantly. “And that’s why your illustrious partner in glory, Marius of Corbeck, has his nifty little persuasion skill. Now, if you’d like me to sell these sapphires for you, I would be needing a tiny cut of the profits, you understand. For my services as your social liaison etc. I’m sure we can work out the details later.”

He leaned back, immeasurably satisfied with himself.

“How can you even think of money?” Yelena asked him, as though finally recognizing his presence in the room. “What in the name of Amarata do you think you’ll purchase down here?”

“More stabby knives and pointy arrows,” Marius winked. “Maybe some armor beyond the shitty leathers the big plant gave me back in Duskwood. Either that, or social credit.”

Yelena blinked. “Social credit?”

“Yeah,” Marius said, nonchalant. “Like, good will with the local shopkeeps. A little bit of palm grease here, a little back-alley deal there, y’know – the ways us men of the streets buy knowledge, or protection. Though in fairness, I probably won’t be needin’ the latter with you around.”

She smirked at his dumb confidence. There was some charm in his boyish bravado, even if he was exactly the kind of man Dimedrious had always told her to stay away from.

“Are you not being ashamed?” the Red-Woman exclaimed at him, much to Yelena’s surprise. “You – a man – are being protected by this woman?”

Both Yelena and Marius looked at her and, perhaps for the first time ever (and much to her growing consternation) they shared a laugh.

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“By Yevua’s twelve teats,” Marius snorted. “You must’ve been down here for a while.”

The Red-Woman and Yelena’s eyes met for a moment over the fire’s embers again.

“Up there,” Marius said, pointing past the cracked gothic roof of their hideout up at the dripping ceiling of the high cavern. “On Averix, the guys might be the ones guarding the streets, but it’s the women that are the bigwigs. Politicians, Queens, Duchesses, Head-Priestesses of Amarata’s temples (that last one being the only position purely for the gals). Oh sure, it might be different in Xult, or the jungles of Ilmanathia where we first met the Tigrans, but overall Amarata’s faith is pretty pro-vagina-haver.”

The Priestess listened to his words with care, Yelena noticed.

“Yep,” Marius continued. “Old Amarata came along and changed shit up, alright. Used to be the Old Magisters used the women as sex-slaves and men as workers on their beastly little projects. Matter of fact, it was mostly slave guys that dug this lovely big hole so’s their masters could meet all the nice folks around these parts.”

Again - icy focus from the Red-Woman.

Could it be she really had no idea about the surface at all?

Marius kept rabbiting on through the night, and with each new sentence from the storyteller’s mouth, the Priestess of flame became more and more entranced by what he was describing.

“And of course, you’ve got your Argents,” he said with a nudge in Yelena’s direction. “They take anybody. Hybrids mostly – men or women, although sometimes I gotta be honest and say I can’t tell. Some of them know how to hide their tails or snip away their fur these days to fit in with the rest of us humans. They call it ‘Masking’. You know what I mean, right?”

“No!” Yelena exclaimed. “It sounds barbaric. It sounds like a desperate attempt to please bigots.”

‘Well,” Marius sighed. “I quite agree. But then sometimes the allure of an easy life is a big one, eh? You telling me you’ve never once felt like an outcast?”

She met his questioning eyes with silence, and he met hers in turn with the knowing stare of truth.

“We can’t all be born normal,” Yelena said.

“Couldn’t agree with you more,” Marius replied. “But personally, I’d say normality is pretty overrated.”

As Yelena was about to interject, the Red-Woman suddenly leaned forward, curiosity rising in her like a perpetually chilled kitten fascinated by the promise of warmth.

“But you do look normal, Yelena,” she said, and Yelena was taken aback both by her words and the fact that she had actually called her by her name for the first time.

“You really don’t know much, do ya?” Marius snorted. “This girl’s one of the thing’s we’re most scared of up there. She’s a Fir-“

Yelena shot him a look that stopped his breath.

“A Firrrrrr-fervent Argent true and true! Yes siree, one of the most loyal of her order, right here. That is – eh – one of the good ones.”

In the face of their almost childish wish to conceal some secret from her, the Red-Woman simply looked between them and smiled.

It was a night of first times, it seemed.

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When Marius had counted his gems and bangles, Edna had had her fill of sleep, and Yelena had finished her vigilant watch, they continued their journey towards the city’s end. Once again, the silence of the place haunted them, each crunch of their boots on the blackened earth causing their hearts to churn. Every intermittent call the Scorpriex howled into the dead air was the only sound that told of life in this place, and as their calls echoed round the blown-out houses and pulverized walls, Yelena felt that their every vocalization was tinged with sorrow.

Then Yelena saw humanoid movement out of the corner of her eye. They had approached a central plaza replete with more ruined Gnoll statues and a domed building covered in battle scars.

Around this building humanoid shadows stalked, their glowing eyes staring up at the intruders in their realm for only a moment before they moved on.

Once again, Yelena was struck not by the horror of these creatures, but by their sadness. Most simply continued meandering around the streets, their heads downcast and dejected, their long limbs trailing behind them.

“Well, if this ain’t the most miserable sight,” Marius whispered, not willing to raise his voice lest the silent ones start to take notice of them. “I don’t even think my best dad joke could tickle ‘em.”

The Red-Woman and Edna half-bowed to each individual specter as they passed them by and, unconsciously, Yelena found herself doing the same.

"They look like the horror that chased us above,” she observed. “And yet they are different somehow. I can’t explain-“

She let the statement hang, looking towards the Red-Woman’s trailing hair.

“They are Lost Ones,” she whispered as they walked right through one kneeling shadow-man. “They are being killed by those of the Blackbird, or the Silver One that came before him. Now, they are wandering this place. Alone. Looking for their brothers and sisters.”

Yelena listened with ears that strove to reject her words. For the way she had said ‘Silver One’ had struck at her heart.

She was talking about Lord Jael…

Marius nudged her from behind as though he wished to explain the situation, but she put up her hand. She would not let anger cloud her judgement, this time. She would listen. She would think. She would not let her brash desire to defend her Lord overwhelm her.

But there was a mystery here. There was a confusion so great that it ran down the depths of this First Layer of sand.

Lord Jael…

The Blackbird…

The Argents that ruled over this place like despots…not protectors…

Had they really reduced this city to what it was now? A crumbling monument to a civilization trodden underfoot?

She looked at her hand and, though her fingers were close to clenching, she resisted the urge.

She had to be better than that.

“Hey, Yelena?” Marius suddenly asked her as he eyed the shadow-figures with caution, probably in case they saw that he’d stolen their valuables. “Why’d you stop me, back there? Means nothing to her that you’re a Firvak. Means nothing to me too, of course. But then again, I’m a progressive kinda guy.”

She suppressed a giggle despite everything they’d been through so far. She had to laugh at the simplicity of the question. He asked it like there was some hidden meaning he couldn’t understand behind her trepidation. She was so stoic, so strong, that she couldn’t have such a simple, basic rationale for wanting to hide her identity, right?

It just went to show that no matter how much he might say it, it did matter to him that she was a Firvak, just a little bit. He didn’t see a girl when he saw her. He saw a warrior.

“Well Marius,” she answered quietly. “For once, its because I agree with you. Sometimes all we really want is to feel normal. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

He looked genuinely surprised.

“So, you are human, after all,” he said, giving her a cheeky side eye.

“More than you know, Marius of Corbeck,” she replied, eyeing him back. “More than you know.”