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Lament of the Lost
Chapter 108: There's Nothing Like Work

Chapter 108: There's Nothing Like Work

"That's so fucking weird," remarked Moira, the stable girl under whose wing Mr. Hale had entrusted me when I asked a scalehoof to come out of his cubicle so we could clean it up, and the stallion listened without hesitation, walking out by himself. "Pan'ren doesn't listen to me at all. I usually have to pull him out by force."

"Really?" A question directed at the stallion rather than the woman of fairly strong build.

»Fun,« the stallion neighed, not ashamed, seeing it as a way to brighten his day. A bit mean? Sure. But it wasn't hard for me to put myself in his hooves. The changes in my body, the cold, and the constant screaming of the other slaves were not the only things that threatened to break my mind back there in that cellar. The lack of any other “stimulus” was no less crushing.

Unsurprisingly, in that regard, the stallion was not the only scalehoof troubled by boredom, nor was it the only problem the animals had. Some complained about the lack of grain, others about the freshness of the water. Many scalehoofs were tormented by annoying itches between their scales; others had back pain or hoove issues.

"Look, Grey. That's not up to me to decide. I'll have to talk to the stable master," Moira said, more than thrown off by the behavior of the animals around me all morning. "Replacing horseshoes is not something we can do without the owner's consent, but relocating the scalehoof is at the stable master's discretion. Are you sure they'd feel better?"

"Lyl'ra?" It was Scoresby's mare who shyly brought up the fact after I asked if anything was bothering her.

»Y-yes, would feel better in back, L-Lady.«

She obviously still didn't feel comfortable talking to me, or at least was confused about it, but to my relief, she was at least no longer scared of me.

"Yes, Moira. I'm sure."

Usually, on my first day of work, I kept my head down, nodding and trying to do as I was told. I certainly would never dare tell my employer he was doing his job wrong - as that was what I was essentially saying right now. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I was indebted to the scalehoofs, especially to Lyl'ra. If only for the fact that all that talking to the animals had an impact on my weave.

* 21th glyph engraved on Eleaden Standard Language (⦿⦿)

"Alright, I'll go get the stable master. In the meantime, you go clean out the next stall."

"I will, and thanks, Moira."

The woman smirked back. "It's your ass that gets fired, not mine, if it pisses off the stable master. Now, get to work."

The work - cleaning of the stalls.

So far, it wasn't as demanding a job as I thought it would be. Sure, today was a sort of orientation day to get my bearings - a lot of explaining and showing how to do things and all that, which Moira, despite her tough exterior, handled more than well, if I may say so myself. But as far as the work itself was concerned, the manual labor - well, I didn't break much of a sweat.

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'Seriously, has it always been this easy?'

No! No, absolutely not. I wasn't naive enough to think so.

The Beast Tongue may have given me an advantage in handling the scalehoofs, but scooping the dirty straw bedding with a pitchfork into a wheelbarrow was the same back-breaking, stinking work as on Earth. I should be lamenting, maybe even thinking about taking a job at Tender Way, yet here I was, shoveling manure without much trouble, just a bit sweaty.

'The Lattice.'

Whether I liked it or not, the runes enveloping this world in their rules had changed me. Maybe not as much as Dungreen's experiments, but the runes sure did. Or, more precisely, my "dedicated" service to that deranged asshole was at fault. The more sigils I had, the stronger I was supposed to get - that much I knew - be it muscle or in mind. I just didn't expect it to make such a noticeable difference.

'I simply didn't know my limits.'

Hard to gauge your strength when you're locked in a small cell, though.

»Lady happy?« Asked the mare whose shit mixed with the straw I was just shoveling out of her stall. A strange thing to be happy about, for sure, but she was right. I was happy, wagging my tail like I was having the best day ever. And honestly, in a way, I had - I woke up in bed, had breakfast, went to work, met new colleagues.

"Yes, I am. This is the first day in an awfully long time I feel like a normal person."

»But Lady not like others.«

As painful as it was, it was no less true. A normal person wouldn't be able to talk to animals. Not to mention that with lunch break drawing near, my normal day was about to come to an end.

Sure, I didn't have to follow the instructions on the note. In fact, it seemed like the rational thing to do. Informing Rayden would have been much wiser. But the more and more I thought about it, running to her with every little problem wasn't the smartest thing to do either. I was supposed to be the bait, act normal - as normal as possible - and not draw attention to my cooperation with the city guards.

'Seriously, what was I supposed to do?!'

"Not what I expected you to do," came a familiar voice of the stable master from the door, followed by a bark. »Hey, Lady.«

Admittedly, my massive ears had their advantages. Hearing them coming from miles away, they didn't scare the shit out of me.

"You mean the moving of the scalehoofs, Mr. Hale?" I asked to be sure, not daring to lean on my pitchfork even though I had the urge. "It's just..."

He held up his hand to stop me. "Not only that. Moira told me about the complaints the scalehoofs have."

"O-okay?" That wasn't something he could blame me for, was it?

"Sad, isn't it?"

"W-what do you mean?"

"That some people don't wanna hear that their animals need more care."

"Oh, that. Yes. Wait, they don't?"

The man smiled, walked over to the stallion on the left side of the stables and stroked his neck. "I am trying to reason with the owner of Osi'ren here every week to not put so much strain on him; he is getting on in years, for a scalehoof. But money is much more important to the owner. Same with horseshoes and feeding. As long as it's enough, it's good."

"But..."

"I know, Grey. It pisses me off, too. Unfortunately, there's not much I can do. This isn't a charity; I run a business."

There was so much bitterness in his voice at this that even the scalehoofs responded with sad neighs. I did understand the man, though. It would be like expecting the parking lot owner you paid to park your car to refuel, buff, and repair it for you without paying anything extra.

"I see..."

"Good. That's why I'm more than happy to know that I can at least do something for these animals. So, Grey, which ones want to be moved?"