SEALED

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

* Body: 58

* Mind: 64

* Spirit: 46

Talents:

* Athleticism (3/9):

* Climbing I (1/9)

* Featherlight (1/9)

* Stealth (8/9)

* Trackless Tracks (5/9)

* Eschiver (1/9)

* Evasion (3/9)

Spells:

* Illusion I (2/9)

* Touch (5/9)

* Closed

* Closed

Gifts:

* Obsession (3/9) (+1)

* Closed (0/9)

* Closed (0/9)

Weakness and torpor. A chill running through me. My neck constrained by a rigid weight. Prickles running across my scalp, across the base of my ears. My head resting upon soft warmth. My skull pounding, a pressure behind the skull.

It was the points of hard contact trailing through my scalp that drew me up from the reverie.

“So the kitten awakes,” a soft and feminine voice purred.

I cracked my eyes and found green cat eyes hovering over me. They reflected what little light there was in a primitive sheen. Those eyes were embedded in an orange and gray face, similar to the cat person I had met in the bandit’s slave pen. Though this female appeared older, judging by the fur on her chin.

Startled, I jerked upwards, or tried to.

My body barely responded. But, but I did not feel overly cold, nor was I shivering. I wished I knew more of wilderness survival. I could not remember the symptoms of hypothermia or shock, but the last I could remember, death was imminent. And now I woke up with my head resting on a strange woman’s lap. Was I still sick?

Disoriented, but trying to make sense of my surroundings, I asked, “my fever?”

“Is broken,” she said. “Though the smell of rot remains heavy, it appears the worst has passed. Small thanks to the humans.”

Humans. My eyes widened and my ears perked up. There were two others nearby, both feline humanoids. They rested to either side of the woman addressing me. One of the men chuffed, but remained stoically silent. The other was looking outwards and asked, “should not these ones call the child warrior?”

The female hissed, “not yet. It is unsure what the human’s motivations are.”

“Do not tarry long, sister,” the male said. “Their punishments are swift.”

As they were speaking, I noticed a few perplexities. Ones that dumbfounded me. Ones that left a sinking, horrid sensation like a rapidly growing pit in my stomach. Without realizing, my breath came short. There were bars. The woman who had been caressing me wore a collar, similar to the slaves I had seen previously. There were bars. A stiff uncomfortable weight constricted my neck. There were bars all around me and I was collared and there was too much wind on my body and–

“Kitten.”

The female’s voice, an almost tender growl, pulled me out from the spiral. It failed to ameliorate the situation, but the blossoming panic attack abated, if slightly.

But still, I had to confirm. Slowly, hesitantly, fearfully, I reached my right hand towards my neck, where my fingers brushed against thick metal. A collar. I had been collared. Not only that, but I had been caged. And as my right hand traced upwards, I confirmed another fear with my left. My skin, my fur, had been exposed. I had been stripped of gear and clothes.

“They–” I started, but could not fathom just what they had done, nor why. A hole existed in my memories, several of them. I remembered an animated plant carrying me. Or I thought I did. It could have easily been a fever dream. I remembered sighting the road, coming down the hillside, tripping, falling, hurting. And then I awoke here. Collared. In a cage. “They…”

“Did this, yes.”

The female began grooming my head once more, trailing her claws gently along my scalp. It sent pleasant shivers down my spine, into my tail, and melted my tension away. It was also concerning, in a way, that contact like this caused me to drop my guard so easily. But it had been so long since I had felt a friendly person, been near enough to touch, that I thought my weakness might have been excusable.

“But… why?” I managed to ask.

It was the male that answered, spittingly. “Because Qari.”

I failed to recognize that word. I tilted my head slightly, still on the female’s lap getting pet.

“This means the humans are an enigma.”

The until then silent brother coughed wetly, but then added in a weak voice, “Qari spent too long in holes and lost both honor and wisdom. Fools!” he spat, before grumbling to clear his throat.

“Rest, brother. Please rest. Recover your strength,” the female chided.

“Kissen is right,” the healthier brother said, referring to the sister. The sister’s name must have been Kissen, unless I was mistaking a different pronoun for sister. It seemed like her name. “To survive these ones will need to win. Unless the warrior child can be convinced to spend another elixir.”

Elixir? I wondered. My lips did taste reminiscent of grape cough syrup, and my left side felt remarkably uninjured. This world already had magic, so why not potions as well? But if the humans had given me an elixir, why would they then imprison me like an animal? To protect their investments, perhaps. But what did they intend for me? More importantly, how could I use this to my advantage? If they were already willing to expend resources, then my bargaining potential was greater than naught.

I felt the felines’ attention settle upon me.

“What business did these Qari have with this one?” Kissen asked, now rubbing behind my ear. My leg threatened to twitch.

“I’m… not sure. What happened?” I asked, revealing as little as possible, except that I had been unconscious.

“The humans found and brought one that was sick and wounded. After the girl-child warrior healed those injuries with alchemics, this one–” Kissen placed a hand on my forehead to ensure I knew who she was speaking of “-was stripped, collared, and placed here under our protection.”

That was a surprisingly detailed answer.

“What should be discussed are these,” Kissen tapped my forearm where my tattoos were on display. “Why defile your body?”

Defile? A bit of a strong term, I thought. But it said a lot about the feline race that they felt this way. Not wishing to alienate potential allies, especially not ones within melee range that had claws, I sought sympathy. “I… I am unsure,” I said.

“And why speak the Qari tongue?” The healthy brother asked. Without realizing it, I had been using the same language that the humans had, as it seemed structured in a more comprehensible manner. But recalling our conversation, the felines had been speaking in the exotic sibyllic language.

“Shh, Larissen,” Kissen hushed her brother with a slight reprimand. “This one suspects a stolen kit and foulness. There are rumors of their arts.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

If I followed correctly, she thought I had been stolen as a child by the humans and been… experimented on? What these foul arts were was a mystery still. But I could infer their unpleasantness, and they could have explained some of the differences the felines had observed.

Larissen, the healthy brother, scoffed. “All the more reason to reject all the Qari have. If understanding Kaivan is possible, then Kaivan should be spoken.”

I winced. I could speak their tongue, but it would come across as jarring, both to myself and them. But still, I would try. Appeasing them in such a simple thing could buy goodwill cheaply. “Understand, yes,” I spoke haltingly. “But speaking, difficult.”

Larissen gave a slight growl but then turned his attention back towards where human voices were emanating from. It appeared, giving the slight orange glow on the top of the caged wagon, that a fire was in that direction as well. The humans likely sat around a firepit while I had been left to rot in a cage. If not for the soothing received from Kissen, I likely would have attempted an escape. Or to have drawn the humans’ attention to request answers.

“Do not overly stress yourself for our ears,” Kissen said. “Kaivan is a practice learned with time. Though while hopefully not too difficult, but understandable if answering this is, this one wonders how you received these markings, and from what land birthed your tribe.”

Humorous. I also, wished to know the answers to those questions. Mostly. I know what land birthed my body, but it was not this one. And as for who marked me? I was willing to gamble that it was the very same who that brought me here and dumped me on this forsaken piece of rock. But these were not details that I could share. Well, I could. But doing so may reveal more than I wished. I lacked the context of these people to understand significance, and until I had that understanding, I refused to risk revealing more than I should.

So to answer Kissen, despite the fact that it would cost me goodwill, I shrugged, as though to convey either a difficulty speaking, or a helplessness. While I hoped the gesture appeared vague, unfortunately, it did not work as intended.

“The little kitten wishes to keep her secrets,” Larissen remarked.

Kissen bared her teeth a fraction while looking at him. From my angle, it appeared menacing, though not directed at me. “All are entitled them.”

“Unless the secrets cost these ones,” Larissen replied a bit hotly.

“And do her secrets weigh against these ones?” Kissen asked, a growl in her throat to issue warning.

All the while, I wondered how they knew I kept secrets. That had not been my intention to communicate, which meant I had failed to communicate appropriately. Of course I was keeping secrets, but I did not expect them to jump straight to that particular interpretation.

“When her Qari masters come? And when our presences are entwined? Then yes!” Larissen hiss-shouted.

Kissen made a sound remarkably similar to a yowl and she took the hand she had been tracing through my scalp and used those very same claws to swipe at Larissen’s shoulder. Larissen spat, his hair standing up.

“Knock it–” the sick brother coughed up a disgusting bit of mucous “-off. Draw ire of–” he coughed again.

Larissen froze just as he began to retaliate. Kissen’s eyes widened and her ears flattened.

“Not over,” Larissen hissed.

“No, it is not.” Kissen agreed. “But for the sake of our brother–”

I was unsure what sort of concilliations the two siblings had been near, as a girl shouted as she approached. “What gives?! You’re supposed to call when she woke up!”

The girl, a human, a teenager, she carried a long sword at her hip as she stomped towards our prison wagon. She was tall. Her hair a pale blonde, and her skin had an almost bluish tint. In the dark, I could not gather many details. I needed to know more before I interacted with her, especially if she meant to interrogate me, which seemed the most likely outcome.

“Who is this?” I asked under my breath in Kaivan.

“A girl child warrior,” Kissen said. “The one that gave an elixir and brought kitten here.”

“The one that collared–” I started to ask for confirmation, raising my voice slightly in outrage. I knew it would only hurt my position, but some emotions could not be fully constrained.

“Speak Imperial!” the girl demanded, apparently disliking our private conversation. Which also informed me that the girl likely failed to comprehend the Kaivan tongue. It would prove an advantage later. But currently, there was no reason to test the girl’s patience. For it seemed she had little.

But then, after a moment’s consideration, her eyes met my own, and her face softened, at least by a fraction. “Unless you don’t know it?” She turned to Kissen, her hand on the pommel of her sword, as though she readied herself for violence. “You! Kunny! Does she know Imperial?”

Kissen glanced down at me. Her hands had returned to my head, petting my cheeks and chin. She gave me an raised eyebrow, as thought expecting an inclination from me. I wondered if she were willing to lie for me. I considered letting her. But then I would have to follow through with the communication barriers, and gaining sympathy from the humans would be much more difficult.

So I answered.

“I–I do.” I affected weakness in my voice. “A-are you the one that found me?” I attempted to look pitiful, which was not difficult under the circumstances. As I shifted, I recalled that I was in the nude. And as the girl’s eyes wandered over me, I felt incredibly exposed, uncomfortable. I pulled my tail around to cover my nethers, but I could do little for my–for my chest.

A twinge of dysmorphia came. I ignored it the best I could.

While I spoke, I heard Kissen whisper under her breath, “do not trust.”

I appreciated the advice, but that was not a problem I would likely ever have.

The girl glanced towards my tail, and her free hand twitched slightly. Were I not attentive to detail, I would have missed it. But she almost made a grabbing motion.

An idea slowly began to dawn upon me, a suspicion. And if true, then several options opened up. But I would need to learn more later. For now, I had to establish a favorable position with my captor, and all without alienating my fellow prisoners.

“Yep!” the girl said boisterously, thrusting her chest out slightly, her legs spread shoulderwidth apart. “I healed you too. I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen anything like you.”

Anyone, I wanted to correct. But doing so would hurt relations. If that were not a priority, then I would ask why she had put a mothersworn collar on me and shoved me inside a cage!

“T-thank you,” I said instead, squashing most of the welling anger. And I was thankful, at least partially. “You saved my life. May I know your name?”

“Sir Kate Guardson.”

Unusual, but I gathered that the ‘sir’ term was gender neutral so for as I could tell, and instead stood in as an identifier of a warrior aristocrat.

“And yeah, I did save you. It took a pretty expensive elixir to do it too.” I was about to thank her again for doing so, but then she had to go and add, “you basically belong to me now.”

“What?” My voice came out in a high pitched whine in a knee jerk reaction. I scolded myself and wrestled my incredulity back under my self control where it belonged.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” Kate said, “Besides, whoever owned you last barely took care of you… by the way, who did?” she asked in a difficult to pin tone, but one that sounded akin to poorly wrapped disgust. There was also another part of what she said of note, and I thought a simple inquiry would not go amiss.

“Did?” I asked. She used a past tense. But if she thought I were property… then why past tense?

“Yeah, did.” She scowled at me. “And if you or someone else tries saying otherwise…” she trailed off while rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck. The threat was implicit. Either this girl was remarkably confident, or insane. Potentially both, which would be a troublesome combination. “So anyways, I got questions.”

I had questions as well, but I doubted she could answer them, even were I to risk asking them.

“Kate!” a boy’s voice called out. “Where are you?”

The girl had the slighted grimace, one laced with irritation.

“There you are!” He said, finally reaching the prison wagon. He stopped just a short distance away. “What’re… you?” he glanced over at me, and his mouth snapped shut. He scowled. “Oh.”

“What is it, Gregory?” Kate asked. “I thought you would have been asleep by now. Instead you went waking up half the camp.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged. “Were you trying to talk to it?” he asked.

It? Not a small amount of fury was felt.

“Her,” Kate corrected. “And yes. We still need to find out who hit her, unless you forgot.”

“Oh, I remember,” he said dubiously. “I’m just surprised you’re bothering with conversation. Aren’t kunny too dumb for that?”

A part of me strongly desired to protest. A part of me longed to destroy this boy. But, no. This was an opportunity. In fact, this child’s assault upon my character could be seen as a boon.

“S-sir Kate,” I mumbled softly, drawing both their gazes. The boy with annoyance, the girl with something else. “A-am I… dumb?” I asked hesitantly.

“Pffsht,” she blew air out and waved her hand, “No, course not. Obviously you’re different. And if somebody would open their eyes they’d see that. But no, that would be too much to ask from a blind–”

“Oh, I need to open my eyes?” the boy snapped. “I’m not the one trying to have a midnight discussion with an animal!” he finished in an angry hiss.

Kate glared at him, her mouth a tight and thin line. Before she could respond, a third voice joined the fray.

“Both of you ought to be asleep,” a man said. He wore some nature of thick clothing, possibly canvas, died black with red accents. Similar to Kate, he had a sword. But he also had what looked like a collapsable crossbow. It would not surprise me to learn his jacket was armored.

“I’m keeping watch,” Kate explained.

Gregory snorted in disbelief.

“I’ll keep watch,” the man said. “You go to bed.

“Yeah, but–” Kate started to protest.

“-Lieutenant's orders. Take it up with your aunt.”