As always, Billy started his day with breakfast. Eating ten times his usual portion in the hopes of hastening the regrowth of his arm and the general recovery of his body. Forgoing the usual efforts he’d put in, since the girl’s weren’t present and he didn’t really care about taste.
Instead taking his breakfast as he’d been taking all his most recent meals. Drinking it as a heavy, and nutritious, medicinal gruel. After breakfast came meditation, he interfaced with his inner-world, checking on its growth and cycling its energies through his core.
After meditation came work, one armed or not, he still needed to finish making this month’s batch of potions, charms and artifacts. He’d already created a few additional NF-fabricators to help him reach the necessary quantities. He’d probably need to make some more once he was in better shape to do so. If Elena was the company's muscle and a surprisingly excellent financial manager, and Edna was the one who handled their public relations, management and marketing, Billy wasn’t good at any of that.
While calculations and mathematics weren’t a problem for him he was unsuited for dealing with people, both inhuman and inhumane in his way of thinking. What he ‘was’ good at was survival and growth. During the nine months while the girls had been training and he had been at the helm of the company, he’d fallen back on the only methods he knew. Turning the Bone Tree Company into a primordial monster, cut-throat and merciless. Gorging itself and growing. Dominating markets and swallowing up competitors.
Taking things to a point where the Bone Tree Company now had several subsidiaries that paid them for the privilege of safely swimming in the same waters. Giving the Bone Tree Company a hefty cut of their profits in return for the opportunity to carry some of their superior goods. With the Bone Tree Company’s brand spreading across the continent like a plague.
*****
“Nh….?”
Billy stepped outside his house, slightly unsure of what he was seeing. Staring at small collection of tents and caravan wagons. Watching children play and men and women going about their day. He sensed it when he was inside his house, hearing and feeling their growing presence, watching them grow near, but not believing it when they arrived on his lands.
Somehow, someone had managed to set up a camp in his yard. Rather than a camp one could call it a small village. Honestly the semantics were unimportant, the key issue was whatever it was, was in his yard. Somehow managing to break through the wards and the grand forbidding he’d set up around the lands he’d claimed as his territory.
His first impulse was to kill everyone. As per usual, it was quickly suppressed. In truth, Billy’s first reactions to everything in life were always at least a little omnicidal in nature. Same for the second and third reactions. Actually, Billy generally found it wisest to wait till the seventh or eighth line of thought came around with a ‘non’-murderous solution before reacting to things. It was less…. ‘messy’.
His feelings were maybe slightly stronger in this instance, but right now he was having that squicky feeling of stepping into ones kitchen and spotting a whole mess of ants running over everything. A feeling of not being sure how exactly the intrusion happened but knowing that he wanted the problem ‘resolved’ as quickly as possible.
Still Billy wasn’t a monster, or at least he wasn’t one of those monsters that wantonly killed. Plus he couldn’t help noticing that there were quite a lot of children present. Mothers with infants in their arms and youngsters who chased each other around with sticks. Screaming their heads off with the kind of insane exuberance that only people under twelve had. Making the most frightful noises before their parents bellowed at them and told them to knock it off and get back to their chores, or to at least go and be noisy elsewhere.
While Billy didn’t necessarily discriminate between targets when he finally did decide to act against a population, he was generally loath to do harm to children. It was something of soft spot of his.
Perhaps it was because before he’d gone back in time the last time he’d ever felt anything like happiness or human sentiment was when he himself was a child. Or perhaps it was because those reservations of his, were the only way he was able to tell that he still had something that served the purpose of a conscience. Either way it was enough to stay his hand.
Hours later, he sat on the doorsteps of his little hut thinking of how to proceed from there. He was pretty certain that he’d probably end up moving his hut to another part of the hinterland. He’d considered making the intruders move but looking at the group that had set up stakes in his yards, if he was going to go that route he might as well just kill them all anyway. Barbarians weren’t known for being especially reasonable. Especially when it came to land rights.
Thus ensuring that any talks ended, ‘messily’. Plus moving his hut would be a fairly simple process, even if it would be a little taxing.
*****
In Monde the word Barbarian had a special meaning. One that had surprisingly little to do with rapine and plunder and savagery, since such things were more or less ubiquitous. When the Empire fell civilization and society, died a swift brutal death. It would take thousands of years for the people to pull themselves together. Barbarians who resisted. Fringe Groups. Worshipers of gods who held enmity with the pantheon. Demon worshippers. Raider-Kings who were fleeing the grand push to bring order to the land. Living Weapons and super-soldiers who refused to fall in line again when their old masters arose again and called them to order.
Finally there were the mutants and gifted whose physiologies and natures, either made it too hard for them to stay in society or left them with no place in the new world order. In summary they were a mixture of misfit toys and maladjusted children, who didn’t play well with others.
And of course there were the countless peoples who lost the battles that came before the world resettled itself and had to choose between leaving all they knew and being eradicated.
Take all this, stir thoroughly and add a few millenia of intermarrying and the usual genetic blending of the conquered and the conquerer and that’s how you got a barbarian. Species-wise they were roughly identical to the people who lived in the cities. It was life in the hinterland that made them bigger and leaner.
They were brutal creatures because they lived brutal lives. Lives plagued by the demonbeasts, sickness and strife that plagued the rest of the world before the new empires and great kingdoms arose. Bringing back some semblance of order.
They probably should have all died out years ago, but somehow they didn’t and to this day there would always be criminals and political losers who joined their number. Hiding out in the hinterlands like the first barbarians had. A chaotic miscellany of blood and song. Made up of many peoples who’d been slowly blended into one, big if highly fractious and diverse entity.
A group that was generally forgotten with the exception of those times when a few amongst their number would leave the hinterlands and raid the weaker cities. And the times that stronger cities would raid passing tribes. Kidnapping and enslaving their people because the barbarians generally possessed strong bloodlines and abilities that made for good war slaves and profitable breeding.
*****
“Milord…”
Just as Billy was about to head into his hut and prepare for his move a voice called him. He turned and saw a group of six men standing around one stoop backed old woman. It was she who spoke, her voice smoky and prosaic. Her gaze clear despite her sleepy expression and the many wrinkles on her face. Her presence large, despite how she’d shrunken with age.
She stood at the little gate of the little fence that Billy had put around his little hut. With just a bit of will and aether, he made the gate swing open. She and her entourage just stood there. The man made uncertain expression, the woman merely smiled.
“May we enter, young sir?”
Billy frowned, considering it, thinking it over and then after a few moments of hesitation he nodded. Letting them in because he was satisfied that the old woman and the thing that lived inside her couldn’t break through the boundary that was marked by the fence. Acknowledging that she and it, had been wise enough not to try.
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This was in fact the real reason the people on his yard were all still alive. Breaking through his spells was one thing.
He was good sorcerer but for every lock there was a key and for every obstacle, a work around. Breaking into his personal demesne, on the other hand, even if it was just the shallow parts that lay beyond his shadow, ‘that’ would have resulted in reflexive retaliatory assault. The shades coming out en masse while Billy rained fire and darkness upon the intruders.
“Nh...Come in, if you have to...Mind yourselves though.” he said. A bit of severity entering his tone.
His words of warning bringing some mild ire from the men, though the old woman merely chuckled.
“Of course.”
Billy closed the door to his hut, he didn’t invite them in. Instead he sat on the stair stoop and as a minor courtesy used an alchemy-based cantrip to conjure a chair from the earth for the old woman. Growing it like a plant. Not bothering to conjure a chair for the men since it was obvious that they were mostly there as guards and he didn’t really feel any inclination to be ‘too’ courteous.
“Ah...why thank you, milord.” said the old woman. Getting herself comfortable.
“Now mind telling me, why you and your people have decided to come and encroach on my land?” said Billy. His tone light, and almost amiable.
“So this is ‘your’ land is it?” said the old woman. Her tone mildly mocking and argumentative, one moment. Then in the next moment, she seemed to rethink after taking a second look at the young man in front of her.
“Well if you say so...I suppose it ‘is’ your land, oh lord of the Eastern Katia Wood, lord of all of the southern sky, New Usurper of the Steel Throne, Rightful heir to the lost sea of stars, straddler of the line that lies between the imaginary and the real. Gray Lord Asphodel, King of the Shades.” she said.
Billy didn’t blink, if she really wanted to wow him, she should have gone on, listing all the names of all the beings he’d managed to defeat with either guile or luck, consuming their essence and taking on a bit of their metaphysical weight. Maybe she could have done it, maybe not.
He wasn’t exactly clear on how much of ‘him’ had managed to come through when he’d first gone back in time to return to the world of his birth and the people he cared for most. Her naming him confirmed a suspicion that he’d had, one that had been building from the moment she appeared at his gate.
Names were sticky things, titles even more so, but the only ones who could actually, truly, see them and feel their full significance were the higher-end beings. Beings who’d either transcended mortality and mundane reality or had simply been born as relatively big fish in the cosmic sea. Those who got to at least glimpse the way the world truly worked by getting a simultaneous and in depth top down and bottom up, view.
For a while He simply sat there one brow raised. Waiting for her to get to the point, however just like the old timer she seemed to be, she took her time.
The old woman who was definitely much more than the little old woman she seemed to be eyed the young man who both more and less than he seemed to he. Trying to see if she could read something other than bored neutrality on that effete, too young, visage of his.
“And?….Well what do you have to say for yourself, imposing as you have?” said Billy.
“Mhm? Really, no introductions? I know your name, aren’t you going to at least ask my mine?” said the old woman.
Billy rolled his eyes.
“Nh? Okay then...Who are you?” he said.
The old woman smiled and bowed in her seat.
“....Ah, in that case I am Alma of the Aria Tribe. Tribe Chief for over one century. Wisewoman for two centuries, and current Tribal Ancestor.. Pleased to meet you.”said the old woman.
“Nh….” said Billy.
“Now here’s the part where you explain the intrusion.” said Billy.
The old woman just shook her head, clucking her tongue at him. Then she sighed, rolling her shoulders.
“Yes...Well about that…On behalf of my tribe I both apologize for the imposition and thank you for your beneficence...”
“.....And?” said Billy.
Old Alma clucked her tongue again. Whatever the boy actually was he definitely spoke like one of the ‘not’-men. Either speaking too much, or not speaking enough. Using abundance and absence to be tricksome.
“Children like yourself aren’t cute at all you know, Milord? Fine...since you wish to cut straight to the heart of the matter, I’m afraid that there’s something I must ask of you. I’m afraid that I and my tribe, must avail ourselves upon your kindness and mercy just a little more. You see we were chased here. We would not have imposed if our enemies had not pushed us to this point. And while I would never ask a stranger to step into our war. If it is at all possible I would ask that you continue with beneficence and allow us to continue imposing.” said the old Alma.
Billy blinked and then he shrugged.
“Nh...Fine. Your people can stay. I was just about to move on anyway.” said Billy.
He got up and was just about to head into his hut. Unaware of the stiff expression that Old Alma was wearing.
“Uh..one moment, milord! I think you might not be understanding what I’ve come here to ask.
I could have easily taken my people elsewhere if what I needed was just mere temporary safe harbor. After all there was a great risk of you trying to kill them all out of hand. Why would I risk that just for the sake of finding a place to hide for a few little while? Shouldn’t it be obvious that there’s something else we need?” she said.
Speaking in a hurry, because her words didn’t seem to be slowing the young man’s steps at all.
“But….Why do I care?” said Billy.
The guards’ faces shifted in hue either becoming darker or more pale. As for Old Alma, while she too was a bit taken aback, it wasn’t like this was unexpected. Those who only held a tenuous relationship to mortality and the terrestrial could be called cold, aloof, inhuman. Alma knew, having been called all those things at some point or the other. She sighed and she pushed herself from her seat. Falling to her knees.
*****
Her men, her great-grandson and a few of the tribe's bravest warriors that rushed forwards to help her but she waved them back.
She’d readied herself before they came here, she was the village’s wisewoman, the child of old wisewoman, who was herself the child of a demi-god. Once her people were proud and numerous but bad decision from the war council and the newer chiefs had led them to the very edge of oblivion.
As the tribes ancestor and guardian, she was the one who held responsibility, failing in raising her son to be wise, failing to kill him when turned out to be a fool. Failing to turn their tribe back before things got so dire. Now, that she was nearing the end of her strength there wasn’t much that she could do any more. If bending knee was what it took to save her people then so be it.
“.....Please?! Hear us out!”
The young man stopped, the door to his hut open, revealing a space that far exceeded the actual size of hut. Revealing a thick and baleful aura that fell like it’d swallow them hole. Revealing a rich energy and a promise of power that was tempting enough to almost make one wish it would.
“Nh...Okay. I’m listening.” said Billy. Sighing, feeling fatigued because excessive conversation always left him feeling fatigued.
“After five hundred, years I have reached the end of my road, but my people's path cannot end when mine does. I come here to ask of you a great favor.” said Alma. Rushing her words as if fearing the man would leave if she spoke too slowly.
“......And?” said Billy.
“I sensed you from afar. Feeling your presence as you entered our wood. You cast a curious shadow. Both black and white. Dark as sin and yet possessing an abundance of kindness and mercy.” said Alma.
“The point...Get to it. Now.” said Billy.
Finally growing impatient. Not sure what the woman was getting at and not liking having anyone describe him as either kind or merciful.
“Please, I bring you my tribe. I brought them here, not to ask for succor, but to ask that you take them as your own.” said Alma.
Her words brought gasps from the men at her back.
“Ancestor!?”
“Great Grandmother!?”
They all called out to her. Not understanding. The men not knowing exactly why their ancestor had come here, before hand. Only knowing that she’d forced them to swear to her and all the ancestors that had come before, to abide by whatever was decided at this meeting.
“Nh….I have no need for your people.” said Billy.
Getting up again, finding himself regretting that he’d ever invited them in to begin with.
“But we have need for you!” said Alma.
“And I wouldn’t ask you to undertake this task for free. There will be recompense. Please, What is a century or two for beings such as us? Especially a personage such as yourself. One in whom the cosmic flow runs so strong.”
Billy opened the door to his hut again. He was about to step inside, but something, maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was boredom, and maybe it was the general knowledge that know one seeks help from a wolf unless they have a direbear at their door. He hesitated and stopped and turned towards the old woman.
Seeing the gray streaks that were rapidly turning white. Seeking the deepening wrinkles and the bags under her eyes. He looked at her men and saw them all standing around her.
Large framed. Tall enough to almost dwarf Billy even though he was nearly seven feet tall. Yet undersized, cinched belts, saggy skin and faces that were a little too sharp, telling a tale of prolonged period of leanness. And all ‘these’ were the important folk. Those who would be given priority. He could only imagine what their common folk looked like.
“What kind of payment?”
“I shall pay with... The very cornerstone of my being. The spark of divinity that was handed down to me from my mother, The spark that came from her mother and her mother’s mother. Coming from the Lady of the Passing Clouds. A goddess who lost her place in the gods’ land. I wasn’t able to make use of it, and I have no heir to hand it down to, but even if I did, if meant you taking my people under your wing, the spark and the absolute loyalty of the warriors of the Aria tribe would still be yours.”
Billy raised a single brow, and it was the single change in his expression since this whole conversation began.
“I already said I don’t need your tribesmen. And I have no interest in godhood or divinity. Even if I did, having said that and revealed your most precious treasure, what makes you think I couldn’t just take that little spark of yours as I please?” said Billy.
“I...Well...There are no guarantees in this life, I suppose this old girl ‘did’ indeed make a bit of a gamble. And yet, somehow I believed that you weren’t that kind of person.”
“And why on earth would you believe that?” said Billy.
The old woman stood up, back straight, eyes steely. A flash of tall proud mistress of wood that she’d once been, could be seen as the wind blew past, caressing her hair and robes. Disappearing within the depths of her aura.
“Well, milord…First of all I am afraid you are mistaken, my most precious treasure are the men women and children of this tribe. Second....If you were the type to act in that manner, I do believe we’d be dead already.”