Only four owners tried to flee the plaza. They were held off to the side, and all of them were among the owners accompanying some twenty-odd slaves that ended up with the interrogators. Kestra determined about fifty more had been enslaved contrary to the justice of the Myriad Realms. More than a few of those had been caught by bandits and sold in the city. Her process stream-lining got them through the crowd while the sun was still a hand's measure over the western city wall. There were no more transmigrators among these slaves. However, of the slaves that had lied, most had possessed some interesting titles, such as Cannibal and Oath Breaker, along with the less severe, but more embarrassing Panty Thief.
At the end of the day, her quest count had updated to 58 of 147 unjustly enslaved now freed. She still had 87 slaves that had not been born on this realm which Ramakith Ard's death had made her property.
She went back to the Lord's Donjon, expecting another long night. On the way, she learned that the guards had instituted a lock down of the city without Kestra issuing orders, and had apprehended ten slave-owning families trying to run away from the city with their slaves. She decided to let the lock down stand while she was sorting out the slaves for her quest.
Her experiences warned that such a measure needed to be explained to prevent the inevitable unrest of the distruption from breaking out into rioting, so she sent messengers off to what could be considered the gentry and merchants of the city with reassurances that Kestra had no intention to consolidate her power through building a pyre of noble corpses. She further sweetened the message with vague promises of seeking their counsel on how Sortalheim would be ruled going forward, setting an initial meeting for just after lunch the next day. Not all of the city's upper strata were invited, but everyone that took a lead in making the city functional was.
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Kestra was back in the servant's dining hall with the last of her slaves assembled before her.
"Anyone born on an Immortal or higher realm, please set forward," she asked.
To her surprise, four of the eighty-seven slaves stepped forward.
"How did you end up in Sortalheim?" Kestra asked.
The spokesperson of the group was an older woman. "We were originally servants of the Whispering Valley Sect. There was a matter of honor between our sect and the Thundering Mountain Sect. We were part of a century of servants sent there, among other gifts of appeasement. A young master of the Thundering Mountain Sect suffered a defeat during a challenge match. His forfeit was to dwell within the Low Mortal Realms for a year. We were deemed the most ... expendable of the servants available to accompany him. We cannot return unless we reach a level of 80, and so he sold us."
Her truth orb glowed for the statement.
"What would you do if I were to free you right now?" Kestra asked.
The answer came back immediately with not a hint of hesitation. "Seek a worthy master to serve. We are not strong, though we have more open foramina than most born to the Mortal Realms. We served the Sects because we do not fight. Without fighting, one can be a Sage of Crafting and still be weak, unable to level properly."
"Do you three agree?" she asked the trio behind the older woman.
"Yes," they chorused, and the orb stayed gold.
Forty-four more of the slaves had been born on higher realms, most brought down by careless owners or sent as a punishment, or who had come of their own choice, hoping for a better life away from higher leveled people, only to find life was more hard-scrabble on the bottom, regardless of the lack of higher leveled people.
The slaves who wanted to be freed had the choice to work for the city or take coin and go off to start their new life. Nine of this group wanted to remain Kestra's property, which brought her total of slaves asking not to be freed up to fifteen.
That left thirty-nine slaves that hadn't been born on any realm among the Myriad Realms.
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As Kestra sorted out her slaves, she sent them on, either to be enrolled as city employees or to return to the slave quarters so they could rest some before being called on to perform their regular duties.
That meant it was the wee hours of the morning when it was just Kestra, the first transmigrator-slave she had freed, and thirty-seven enslaved people not born of the Myriad Realms. She didn't know what had happened to Tami and Puck, and she frankly didn't have the energy to care.
"Anyone who lacks the Transmigrator title, step to the front," she ordered. No one moved.
"If you are from Earth, please move to that side of the room. Everyone else, please move to this side of the room."
More than a few of the Earth-born transmigrators showed angry faces as they obeyed the compulsion of their Heavenly oaths.
Only ten were from some place not Earth.
"Show of hands, please, how many of you know the name of the realm or world from which you came?"
Three of the not-Earthers raised their hands.
"Thank you. Alright, another show of hands, this time for everyone: do you believe you -- right now -- have the knowledge you need to return where you came from?"
No hands went up.
"Yeah, I don't know how to go home, either," she sighed. A lot of the remaining people jerked and looked at her harder.
Kestra rubbed her face, fatigue build up starting to settle on her. "I'm going to cut the level with you all: I'm scared of the havoc you --. We all can wreck upon the people here. Before I free you, I need to hear your plans, and that's going to be some long and involved talks, I'm pretty sure.
"Considering the circumstances we have, do any of you know if you would choose to stay in Sortalheim after you're freed? Show of hands if the answer is yes. ... Okay, for Abyss-no. ... I'm guessing the other twelve of you just don't know? Okay. For the yeses and maybes, you're going to be present at the governance meeting tomorrow. Go ahead and get some sleep."
And like that, there were fourteen.
"Who among you has a plan for where to go and what to do? Something more than 'away from here' and 'I'll know it when I see it'?"
With that caveat, there were three.
"I am Nahrehego. I was a Druid of the Vine on my old world, Elohol, and it is my want to find the Forest Lords of this world. If they are worthy of my service, I will tend their woods and maybe brew up some good fruit wines again," the first said.
Kestra nodded. "One moment." She put her hand next to the communication device, as if pushing it closer to better hear someone. In truth, she turned her focus to her realm and found Graemire.
«How would you like to meet a transmigrator who says they were a [Druid] on their old world? I don't think it was mine, but I think the Divine Intervention that makes us all speak the same language means they would be at least similar.»
Graemire looked up from the plants he was doing Wood Elemental things with, walking around like a man-shaped collection of vines. "I would like this. Are you in a good place for me to teleport to?"
«Good enough,» she agreed and more extended a path than pulled him out of her realm.
He appeared beside her and quickly took in the room. "There are more than just the one you spoke of, lit--. Miss Kestra." His tone held a hint of rebuke to it.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"Ah, it's City Lord Kestra now," she admitted, smiling up at him even as she ran a hand through her hair. "Elemental Emperor of Wood Graemire, this is Nahrehego, who states that he was a [Druid of the Vine] before his transmigration. It is my suspicion that when Nahrehego speaks of finding the Forest Lords of the Myriad Realms, the closest to such a roll would be the Elementals of Wood."
"Kestra," Graemire asked, his voice flat. "What have you been doing in my absence?"
She grinned. "Check your quest to Free the Slaves and you'll get a good idea."
He stilled. "You said you have taken the city? You are now the Lord of Sortalheim? How long do you intend to remain upon Gossalt?"
Kestra shrugged. "Long enough to complete our quest and maybe introduce the noble's covenant of mutual prosperity to the City Stone interface, probably also citizenship if I can figure out how to make the idea palatable to the Myriad Realms. There really needs to be ways for people to rein in the abuses of the City Lords. I'm going to try to find people that'll be both capable and reasonable enough to foist the actual governance off on after lunch. Give it a couple of weeks for people to see the changes taking place, feel hopeful and more a part of the city, then start releasing a lot of the fealty oaths I won from killing Ramakith in a Righteous Challenge."
Graemire stopped her by pulling her into a hug. "I'm going to go speak with this Druid. When I return, you are going to sleep. Then I will get Ralouf and Yorgin, and we will attend this meeting with you."
"Okay," Kestra said.
She turned back to the transmigrators and found Nahrehego quivering with some extreme emotions, his eyes opened wide, his lips sucked in between his teeth and his hands white knuckled as they pressed together. She gave a tired chuckle and ordered, "Breathe."
Graemire gestured toward a table. "Let us sit and speak. City Lord Kestra shared with me that Druids are a kind of Wood Saint. Please, explain to me more what a Druid of the Vine is."
One of the three stepped back. "My plans just went ass over tea kettle. I--. How?"
"How, what?" Kestra asked.
"Can't you feel the power that monster exudes? And you just blithely rang him up? What insanity is this world?"
Kestra raised an eyebrow. "Still an Abyss no on staying in Sortalheim?"
"Absolutely! Just, now I don't--." More softly, he said, "I just don't know what to do."
"Fair enough," Kestra sympathized. She turned to the third person, a woman who appeared to be in her mid thirties. "What's your plan?"
"Kill some sick fucks, then go build a cabin in the middle of nowhere and raise up some beasties."
"Why do you want to kill these people?" Kestra asked.
Her jaw jutted forward. "'S my business," she said.
"Any of those people in territory Sortalheim controls?" she pressed.
The woman pressed her lips together, but didn't answer.
Kestra rubbed her face again. "If the past two days have shown me anything, it is that slavery in this world is far more of a loser's gamble than in the one from which I came. I intend to see that changed, and for the corrupting influence of slave-owning removed from individuals, at least in the city of Sortalheim. If there is a better way to force restitution from criminals, I will gladly hear it.
"I am now Sortalheim's City Lord, and that comes with it the responsibility to see justice carried out in my holdings. If you commit murder in my holdings or against my people, you will face my justice. For murder, the lesser punishment is a term of enslavement."
The angry woman wasn't the only one hearing Kestra's warning and growing red with rage. She did seem to express the sentiment of the other listening enslaved transmigrators when she spat out, "You're going to take their side!?"
"If you levy no charges, I have nothing to punish!" Kestra roared back, and that at least brought enlightenment to a few of the others. The woman's face didn't yet show a change, so Kestra just laid her position as bare as possible. "You will be -- you are now -- as subject to the laws of the city of Sortalheim as anyone else within this jurisdiction! There cannot be justice while granting you special considerations!"
Kestra drew her body up and breathed in a calming breath, her hand imperiously raised for silence. When she felt able to speak again without screaming or roaring, she ordered in a mild tone, "I do not ask you to believe, but I do ask that you consider what difference it would make to you to have your charges heard by someone who desires justice be done, to have those you accuse called to account for their actions, and for a just punishment to be laid upon the guilty.
"Now, it is either very late at night or far too early in the morning. The past few days have been quite taxing on our minds, our hearts, and our Stamina. I intend to rest, and I will meet with you again after the governance meeting."
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Graemire accompanied Kestra back to the sleeping chamber she had claimed in the Lord's Donjon of Sortalheim. It was not within the family wing. Ramakith had disgusted her far too much, and she also didn't intend to truly take up the duties of the City Lord, merely set up some constraints and move on. She didn't want to signal her permanence to the people of the city when her intent was to be the person picking Ramakith Ard's successor.
The room had been set aside for the City Lord's guests, so it was richly appointed, but lacked any personal touches. The mansion staff had a bath waiting, though they had learned that Kestra didn't actually want bath attendants or a flock of servants hovering around her. Messengers, sure. People who could run her orders off to the various people in charge of ordering different aspects of the city or the mansion were expected. Actually fussing over Kestra? Nope, not allowed.
Thus, she and Graemire were alone in her chambers. She whistled up her Control Air spell and made a silence ward over the room, then stripped and got into the bath. While she bathed, she brought Graemire up to current with her actions, her concerns, and her plans.
The past few days really had been tiring, and she trailed off more than once only to jolt herself awake. The last time, she figured out that she should probably switch from tub to bed, and fumbled her way upright, only to be confounded by the need to gather her focus and step out of the tub.
Her Elemental friend picked her up and carried her to the bed. Warm, leafy blankets enfolded her, and she slept.
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Graemire considered his little potential, wrapped up in his vines. He liked her near him, enjoyed her manners and wit, and while he worried for her safety, he respected what she did. And he really liked her presence. Her mana harmonized with his own.
It had been a very long time since he had had a cultivation partner. After his profligate spending of his cultivation to contain Nicada's Befoulment, he was now closer in power to an Ascended of the Transcendental Realms. A bit of aid in raising up Kestra's levels and cultivation, and they might make a very satisfying cultivating duo.
While he pondered future cultivation techniques to share with her, tendrils from his vines lapped the water from her skin, which carried with it traces of her that he found quite pleasing indeed. It was not a sensual act. Such considerations were the purview of his imitation Ascended form. This was more along the lines of community.
And Ralouf said she had told him she thought of Graemire as part of her troop, her community.
A quiet joy filled him as Graemire contemplated various paths their future together might unfold.
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Kestra dreamed herself next to her World Seed, flipping through the copied tome of divine revelations. Some ideas felt bigger than her body could hold. Actually, most of the ideas felt bigger than her physical self could manage, but not all of them. She hadn't been much for reading back on Moh, probably because most of the books she had seen were dry learning aids, and she would rather do than read when it came to learning. This kind of reading, though, was an active kind that challenged her mind to consider new ideas and new comprehensions. She liked it.
Then, she woke up naked under pleasantly soothing vines, which were wrapped all over her body. She liked that, too. It was like she had spent the night basking in a master level [Healer's] Rejuvenating Aura. The sexual arousal that came with the well cared-for sense of her body just added a delicious thrill.
It also made her idly wonder if Graemire could feel sexual attraction.
On Moh, Elementals advanced from sprites that other Elementals had formed and bound to carry out some particular Elemental-type task. They never simply spawned, nor were sprites ever hatched from the monster eggs found at spawn points.
Humans were an Elevated race: they had reason and spirit, which gave their actions Will and Meaning. Being also a social species, they formed collective Wills. Interactions that affected their societies reflected back on every connected human. Most were simply mundane, habits and customs that made it easier for everyone to work together, but some interactions were so charged with meaning that they became either sacred or profane acts. The sacred acts brought harmony to the collective Will, and strengthened everyone. Profane acts tore at the collective Will, and weakened everyone by sowing distrust and active antipathy among the members of a society.
The Four Agreements needed to reach that sacred state were physical desire; emotional enthusiasm; mental intent for action or trust to receive; and spiritual harmony. None of those could be forced, and the absence of any rendered the act undertaken mundane, while the active rejection from any aspect of the Four Agreements turned the act profane.
Which brought Kestra's musings back to Graemire. He was a very Advanced Elemental, but had he reached a point where he was capable of the Four Agreements?
Again, on Moh, Elementals started from the other side of the aspects, being formed of reason and spirit. They gained emotion and physicality as they advanced, while humans began as physical, emotional creatures that grew into reason and spirit as they matured.
"What are you thinking so furiously about?" the Elemental in question asked. His vines radiated contentment as they cradle her, a few playing in a gentle, slow manner over her arms and sides.
"The nature of physicality," Kestra answered.
That garnered an interested, "Oh?"
Still relaxed enough that she wasn't considering consequences, Kestra shared her musings with Graemire.
For an answer, vining tendrils threaded through her hair, and between her fingers and toes, invoking delicious frissons of arousal while the vines that had been draped over her chest circled her breasts, lifting and tugging. Graemire's voice carried through leaves that caressed her ears. "I would love to taste the essence of your orgasms, if you would permit me this delight."
"Mmm!" She nestled into the sensations, both the physical ones and the companionship she felt with Graemire.
"Is that a yes?" the Elemental asked.
"Please!"
And Gramire's vines slipped into the intimate valleys of her body, making a pleasurable exploration of her physicality.