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Lament of the Lost
Chapter 43: No Identity

Chapter 43: No Identity

"You all right, ma'am?"

Of course, Elias Hakhe did not blindly rush over to the sprawled half-Terr'den girl and help her to her feet, as his instincts told him to do. He did so with the caution that their captain had drilled into them. The gal's clumsy misstep and the fear with which she trembled could, for all he knew, have been an act. Instead of thanks, he could have ended up with a dagger plunged between his ribs or claws ripping open his throat.

"I-I am," the gal stammered. The moment her eyes fell on his outstretched hand, her eyes widened in horror as if his fingers were covered in shit, and she promptly scrambled back to her feet, her wings pressed back flat against her body, her face as red as her hair.

─◇─◇─◇──

'Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Why? Just why?' Why did I have to bare my girls right in that guard's face? The worst first impression I could have made. Seriously - if I hadn't made it this far, all the way from the forest to the city's gate, I would have tucked my tail between my legs and run away, no matter how embarrassing that would actually be.

'Just why? Why did I trip in the first place?'

The tangled moss-covered tree roots in Esulmor proved no problem for me to dash across, yet a few steps from the wagon seat were beyond my ability to climb down?

'Like what the actual f . . . ?!'

Was it my unease, my fear, that tripped my feet?

"You sure you are all right, ma'am?" the man, the gate guard, asked, unperturbed by what he just saw. There was no sign of lust or hostility in his voice and yet, overwhelmed by shame I bared my teeth at him like some cornered beast. Being pissed at myself for acting like that, however, was not the reason I winced when I fell back a step. A sudden pain shot through my body. My butt was more sore than after any spanking I ever got from my parents as a little girl. Heck, my ass hurt almost like . . . 'Shit! Was it really some kind of late mutation? Or was I turning into a beast?'

As my mind raced with one dumber reason for the ache than the other, my eyes eventually fell on the culprit. It was the rickety wagon - or rather, the hard wooden seat. Not even my unusually powerful regeneration could cope with the damage hours of sitting on it had wreaked upon my ass.

More embarrassed than ever and fighting the urge to rub my sore bottom, I eased my mind with the [Indomitable Will], gathered my courage, and nodded. "I-I'm fine . . . sir."

"Good. That's good. I would hate to fill out an injury report at the gate." The guardsman said with a strange, tired edge to his otherwise composed, professional tone. "May I assume you intend to enter Castiana, ma'am?"

'Did I?'

A glance at the three-story high walls sent a shiver down my spine. Wasn't going in like walking into another cage?

"Y-yes," I stammered after fighting off another urge to run away.

* 109th glyph engraved on Indomitable Will (⦿⦿⦿⦿)

'Oh, shut up!'

"Excuse me? What did you say?"

'Shit! Did I say that out loud? I didn't, did I?'

"Um, y-yeah. I'd like to . . . enter the city."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Very well. Then I'll have to ask you for your Citizen Card - if you have one. You do have one, don't you?"

'I sure did not.'

Glancing at the old man now engaged in a conversation with the second gate guard, a Guardswoman, for some support, advice, or whatever, I bit down on my lower lip instead of interrupting them, took a deep breath and - much to the Guardsman's obvious disappointment - shook my head.

"Are you sure, ma'am?"

"I n-never had one."

"Refugee Clearance, then?"

"N-no."

"Work Permit?"

"A-also . . . no."

"Trade License?"

"No."

"Travel Pass?"

"Sorry . . . "

"Slave Registration?"

A chill ran through my body. 'There was such a thing?'

"I'll take that as a no. How about, Envoy Entry Endorsee?"

"Are you serious, Elias?" the gate guard's colleague barked at him, clearly listening in while she talked to Scoresby. "Does she look like an envoy to you?"

"Have you forgotten what Captain told us, Corporal? Never judge a sword by the rust on its blade."

"Sure - this has nothing to do with you not wanting to do the paperwork," the woman, Corporal Velorgan, shot back with a sneer. It didn't take a genius to see that there was something between those two. And so, with instincts kicking in, I eyed her, wondering if her first name was Traiana, the one whose tits the man mentioned and compared mine to. Alas, with her chest hidden behind what was undoubtedly part of the City Guard's uniform - a blue jacket with white lining and lapels, complete with two rows of large silver buttons - the frustration of not being allowed to see, to compare, rippled through my body.

'Damn! Why would she . . . no. No, no, no. What the actual f-fuck. Seriously, get your shit together, Korra?"

This was not the time to dwell on some wounded beast pride. Not to mention that I never cared about that kind of stuff in the first place. That just wasn't me.

"You know, I'll do it, the papers - if you want, Elias. I mean, Sergeant."

"Sure, I'll let you, and then Captain will have my ass like last time. Nah, you check the wagon, and I'll take care of this," the gate guard, Sergeant Hakhe, said with a sigh, turning his attention back to me. "Ma'am, do you have any means of proving your identity?"

"E-except for my Grit?" I stuttered, still a little distracted by the woman's obstructing uniform.

"Yes, besides your Grit. Kind of hard to read that one without the . . . well, forget it. So, do you?"

"No."

"Fuck!"

"S-sorry . . . "

"Apologies, ma'am. In that case, I'll have to ask you to come with me."

"To . . . to where?"

"For starters, to the gatehouse. That's where you'll fill out some paperwork with me. I'm not authorized to grant you any clearance without verifying your identity. That is if you insist on entering Castiana."

Even though the old man told me it would probably turn out this way, panic bit into my already racing heart. This was it, my last chance to run away, to make it easy for myself - and while Sergeant Hakhe would obviously prefer that I didn't cross the threshold of the gate and my beast side wouldn't have minded living in the Wilds, as they called the sprawling outback between the settlements, whether it would actually turn out to be an easier life was questionable.

No - mustering the last vestiges of courage, I swallowed my doubts and banished all thoughts of turning back. Instead of running away, I nodded wordlessly.

"Then . . . please follow me, ma'am," the Guardsman said, motioning for me to fall in step with him.

"Don't worry, Korra. Though gruff at times, Elias is a good man," Scoresby called after me as I took a shaky step towards the city. "And don't forget to visit once you can."

»No, don't. Go beast. Be gone,« Lyl'ra neighed, glad to get rid of me and if better not see me again.

While not her fault, the mare would have been happy to know that in spite of our prior agreement of Scoresby letting me stay with him for a night or two, a sinking dread of me never seeing the old man again settled in the pit of my stomach.

"I won't . . . I definitely won’t forget," I managed to force a false promise through the lump in my throat and following Sergeant Hakhe I walked through the massive gate into the city of Castiana.