----------------------------------------
World: MSS - Loading...
"Speech"
"Thoughts"
----------------------------------------
“Dad? Are you home?”
The young man called out, opening the door to a small studio apartment. He retrieved the keys from the lock and shoved it in his pocket. He wore a brown blazer with matching slacks, the outfit completed with a button-down white collared shirt and brown tie. It was the uniform for his private school.
Yet unlike his peers, there was no swiss-made watch on his wrist. His cufflinks were made of neither gold nor silver, no fancy design . Just plain plastic. Right now the latest fashion trend among the students were tie clips. Tie clips studded with diamonds for those who wanted something flashy, made of classic gold but engraved with their family initials for the ones who wanted to be fashionable but still fly under the radar.
He didn’t have any tie clips either.
Upon a closer look, the young man’s clothes were wrinkled and disheveled. Most of his peers got their dry cleaned everyday as a service at whatever high-rise apartment or hotel suite they stayed at. The boy had been ironing his own uniform for years now; yet his skill with the craft didn’t increase at all over the years. It earned him more than a few snickers when walking down the hallways.
He was used to it by now though.
He walked into the studio, looking at the mess. Empty beer bottles and soda cans were strewn about. Newspapers and half-scrawled notes lay on the coffee table which should have been clear of clutter. There was a dirty little mattress on it with an equally dirty blanket. All the signs of his dad were here, but the man himself wasn’t.
Han walked through the studio, picking up trash and putting books into neat little organized piles. From the look of things, it wasn’t the first time he cleaned this apartment. He fought down the familiar surge of frustration.
None of his friends had to do this. They had a housestaff.
Yet he should. His dad was never the same after the divorce. If Han didn’t drop by once in awhile…
He sighed as he tossed a soda can he assumed was empty and a bit of it got on his sleeves.
“Fuck!” He spat and kicked the garbage bag that he had been holding.
Thankfully, he was too timid to do any real damage. It was more out of annoyance than real anger at his father and the situation. He knew that his parents tried their best, that it wasn’t their fault the company went under. Sighing and calming himself down, he went to the bathroom to try and minimize whatever stain the drink left on his cuff.
He scrubbed and scrubbed, but the stain wouldn’t come out.
Click
There was the sound of the door being unlocked and Han heard the familiar footsteps of his dad. He didn’t bother going out to greet him, getting the stain out was more important. He rubbed the bar of soap next to the sink and put some on his fingers, dabbing at the delicate material of his shirt.
“Han?” His father’s voice called.
“Here.” He spoke at normal volume. It wasn’t a large studio, he didn’t need to talk loud. “I’m just cleaning up.”
“I’ll do it.” His father’s footsteps, approaching the bathroom. “Just-”
The bathroom door opened and Han turned to face his father.
But what greeted him wasn’t the middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair he had come to expect.
It was a creature, a bizarre hybrid between bird and rat. Its beak opened up at the same time as it spread its wings, blocking the door way. Then the monster began to speak.
“Slaveborn! Slaveborn!”
Han tried to run but there was nowhere to run. He was trapped in an arena made of blue marble. The creature lunged at him and its beak ripped open his stomach. His intestines were falling out and the creature was slurping them up. Han tried to push the creature’s head away but it was too strong. At this rate-
----------------------------------------
I woke up and everything hurt.
I groaned and heard the faint sound of clothes rustling as someone rushed to my side. As soon as I tried opening my eyes, the desert sun flooded them like spotlights like I was the star singer for a musical. It was too much stimulus for my damaged senses and burnt-out psyche. I closed them and let my head plop down on whatever pillow or cloth I was on.
“Lock?” It was Clover, I recognized her voice.
“Thirsty.” I said eloquently.
There were some more rustling and I tried to turn my body, a fresh wave of pain spreading from... from everywhere. I groaned once more but fought through it, trying to sit up. A hand held my back in place and something cool was pressed to my lips.
“It’s water.” Clover muttered.
I sipped from the cup and it tasted like honey. I wanted to hold the cup with my own hands and go bottoms up but felt nothing when I tried moving them.
The scene of the Ujo slurping up my intestines like spaghetti from my dream came, unbidden. Simultaneously I remembered that the creature had basically ripped off my hand. I looked down expecting to see a bloody stump and was pleasantly surprised to see the appendage still attached to my arm. Actually I wasn’t sure if it was right to call it my hand per se. Compared to the skin on my body it was much paler and free of any scars. I lifted it to try and curl my fingers, but they only twitched. It was practically numb.
“It will take awhile to get used to.” Clover told me like with the tone of someone who'd been through this. “Here, drink some more.”
I had a dozen questions at the back of my throat, but my brain told me quenching my thirst was more important. Complying with Clover’s orders, I finished the cup in small sips.
“I'm sure you have a lot of questions, let's make sure you won't pass out like last time." Clover said.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
While she was talking, I looked at where we were. Stone ceilings, stone floors and even the bed I was laying on was made of stone. There was a thin blanket on top of me, stained yellow and brown with grease. I was back in the slave barracks. In my head, I knew we spent one day in the dungeon but my mind processed it as weeks. It was jarring to go so quickly from fighting for my life with the Ujo and being reminded that nothing had changed at all about my situation.
But I did remember absorbing the Ujo's Core and clenched my fist beneath the blankets. Maybe I could get us all out of here? A Boss-class grade-7 Core was nothing to sneeze at.
“You've been going in and out of consciousness. To be honest, it was all I could do to keep you from... from being gone.” She sighed, her voice tired. "I don't know how but we managed to get back here. From what I hear, it was you who basically carried L'teya and I back."
“How long was I out?” I decided not to interrupt and kept listening.
“From what I heard, we weren't the only ones who were attacked. Most of the slaves who went out didn't make it back... and the ones who did make it back are heavily wounded. The orcs were refusing to treat the wounded for awhile... and still are.”
That made no sense. I clearly remembered my hand being torn off during the fight. There was no way for my hand to grow back with out a proper healer in town. Only a priestess could work a healing of that sort. I raised the numb limb in question, raising an eyebrow at her.
“It was tough.” She said with a smile.
“Holy shit. Priestess for less than a day and she can regrow limbs already? Isn’t she a cheat character by herself?” I didn’t voice my opinion, opting to nod and waiting for Clover to continue.
A severed limb could only be regrown by a dedicated healer, like a Cleric or a priestess, and only by a talented one I might add. There were lots of times when I recruited a healer into my party just to figure out that they weren’t powerful enough to heal permanent injuries. The fact that Clover could do it spoke volumes about her potential. If the orcs found out...
“There’s not a lot of information on what happened or what will happen. I think… I think the orcs are on edge. There are more guards around and they’re not letting us out of the barracks.”
“What about L’teya? Where is she?” I finally asked.
“That’s the problem.” Clover muttered, her tone low. “They took her in for questioning two days ago. I haven't seen her since.”
“Two days ago?”
I frowned. “How long was I out?”
“Five days.”
“Help me up.” I ignored the protests from my body and tried to stand but Clover pushed me down. “Huh?”
“You’re not well yet.” She snapped.
“Well, we can’t sit around doing nothing. We have to find out what happened to L’teya and what might be going on outside.” I had lost five days of valuable time.
Right now, everything that Clover told me was pointing to the situation starting to change. It sounded like the adventurers who attacked us in the Desolate Sands weren’t attacking us out of just chance or opportunity; it sounded like a coordinated effort to weaken the orcs somehow. Or theft of merchandise, I.E. the slaves. Either way, me lying here wasn’t going to be of any help.
“You just got up Lock. You should rest.” She rubbed her arm. "It's not like they'll let us leave the barracks either. Plus you haven't fully processed what happened to you. You almost died Lock and your body took a lot of life force to regrow that arm. You literally just regained consciousness."
"Just a quick walk... I just want to make sure we're safe." She was right though, I still hadn't processed everything.
Why the hell couldn't I remember anything after absorbing that Core? Could Oung have something to do with it?
“Fine.” Clover said hesitantly. “But as soon as you show signs of weakening…”
“I promise to come back.”
This time, Clover helped me up and I got a better look at the room. Usually each rocky bed should have its own occupant, but most of them were empty. This place should have had at least 60-70 slaves if I wasn’t mistaken but there were less than 20 people here. I didn’t see the big scarred man nor Skaris, the lizard beastman. Just a few nameless stragglers who had failed to stand out from the crowd.
“How long were you waiting for me?” This was the men’s side. Did Clover just stay here, waiting for me?
She didn’t answer. “Come on.”
Each step I took made me feel stronger and by the time we reached the end of the stairs, I was able to walk on my own. Stopping by the mess hall, Clover got me some food. I frowned at the thing she put in my hands. Usually we were served a piece of bread with soup, sometimes a slab of mystery meat. It wasn’t the fanciest of meals but it was enough. Kind of like the school food you see on the internet.
I wouldn't know though, I went to a private school.
Yet this thing she put in my hand was… it was hard. It looked like a rock actually.
“They call it cracker stone.” She explained. “The orcs are rationing.”
I tried to bite into it but the thing refused to budge or crack. Actually I felt my teeth shake a bit.
“You have to wait for it to soften.”
“Is this what hardtack used to be like?” Instead of biting into it, I began to suck on the cracker stone hoping my saliva would soften it.
At the end of the mess hall was the entrance where we would usually go out. Standing guard were two orcs, standing seven feet tall. They were the same grunt orcs who had been herding us around the entire time we've been under their care. It wasn't like they ever mistreated us but -wait a minute- isn't being a slave in the first place being mistreated? Maybe I was getting used to being held captive by the orcs. I really needed to get us out of this place.
"Huh. Us, not just me. That's not too bad."
I contemplated a bit more, trying to gauge their strength. If they were the simple rank-and-file orcs, I probably had a chance especially with Clover by my side.
Wait, was I thinking about fighting two orcs?
I shook my head. “And then what? You're going to cut through the entire city of orcs with unknown strength? Get it together, gathering information comes first.”
“How long have they been there for?”
“Since we returned.” Clover responded, then narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me-”
I waved my hand negatively. “Just wondering. And they took L’teya two days ago?” Judging by the sunlight I could see through the doorway, it was still mid afternoon.
“They took her at night, so tonight it’ll be three days. And before you ask, those orcs in the black garbs, they prowl the rooftops at night.”
This was proving to be a more difficult situation than I thought.
"Clover, I know there's more things to talk about. But I need to know exactly what cards are in our hands. Did you happen to see what color the Core I touched was?" I asked, lowering my voice.
Clover shook her head. "I don't remember much after we slayed the final creature. I thought we all fell unconscious, but from what I hear you dragged L'teya and I through the gates, then fell unconscious. I was the first to wake up, I healed L'teya up but your wounds were... like I said, you could've died Lock."
"Well, I didn't." I leaned back on my haunches, debating when the best time to test my Core abilities would be. "What about your... newly founded abilities? Do the orcs know?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm keeping it quiet... I couldn't even heal you and L'teya all the time because I was doing it away from everyone's eyes and ears."
"Good. It's good that you hid it." I relaxed. "Don't let them find out."
Clover nodded, her eyes glued to the doorway once again.
"Lock."
"Yes?"
"How do you know all these things?"
I froze.
"It was always obvious. Your name especially. Lock I could understand. But Slaveborn? It's very obviously made up." She continued. "I didn't care too much about the name back then, it was always a matter of trust. I still trust you but..."
Clover gave a little laugh, tinged with something that wasn't herself. "Do you know I hear her voice now?"
I didn't need to ask whose voice.
"You wake up from a near death experience and the first thing you try to find out is about what kind of situation we're in. Most people would still be in bed. Then you ask me about what color Core you absorbed... Lock, normal people aren't concerned about that. You know, I tried reading Puca's map? I'm a merchant's daughter and I saw hundreds of maps. It was gibberish to me. And you're telling me you conveniently found a dungeon nearby that could hide us? Where only us three could enter?"
I said nothing.
"And you described Lety's Core abilities to her like you were reading it out of a textbook. Those costs dozens, sometimes hundreds of gold." She tried to meet my eyes but I avoided it. "Tell me... who are you really? Are you some kind of noble? Or a Scion of a Great House? Are you a bastard? Is that why they sent you here?"
"Why won't you say anything?"
I stayed silent.
After a moment, Clover broke the tension between us with a strained smile. "I see."
We had been sitting together at one of the stone tables nearby the mess hall keeping an eye on the entrance, just in case they dragged L'teya through those doors. For the first time I took a good look at Clover and her hair was disheveled, her clothes unwashed for a couple of days. Despite having only a single pair, Clover always managed to keep up a somewhat near and proper appearance, at least compared to L'teya and I. I saw that her face was gaunt and there were bags under her eyes.
There were a lot of things I wanted to say but didn't know how. How she wasn't weak and exceptionally talented. That Oungs voice could probably be blocked out. That my real name wasn't Lock, that my name was Han and I came from a different world. How she and L'teya were the first friends I ever made in this world.
Call me a coward if you like, but I just couldn't bring myself to say those things.
I tried to think about what L'teya would do and placed my hand on her shoulder. Clover bowed her head and I pretended not to see the wet streaks on her face. Then she took her hand and placed it over mine, giving it a light squeeze.
We stayed like that for awhile.
I know it was trashy of me and completely out of the moment but I couldn't help it: the thought struck me. "Wait... isn't this kind of like... if we were kind of a thing... and things were going well between us?"
I squashed that immediately and felt immense guilt. L'teya was probably being interrogated or imprisoned and here I was thinking with my pants. I felt heat rise to my cheeks from the shame and thanked all the six divine gods of MSS that Clover wasn't looking at me. It was a stupid thought, she had just lashed out at me about whether I was someone she could trust or not. Well, she said she could trust me but...
I guess it was complicated. I slowly removed my hand and Clover wiped her face using her sleeves.
The orc guards must have noticed out little spat but didn't bother saying anything. As long as we didn’t try to escape or talk to them, I assumed they’d leave us be.
"You should go rest." I said weakly.
Clover left towards her barracks.
When this was all over... maybe I could tell them everything. Finishing my thoughts for later, I settled in to wait for L'teya.
----------------------------------------
“Ah, there you are.” The glasses-wearing-elf who had been in charge of the slaves since day one walked in, followed by two orc warriors.
I awoke, startled by the voice. I must have dozed off without noticing because the doorway that was guarded by the orcs weren't letting in sunlight, instead I saw dark clouds and the moon hiding her face above.
“Lock Slaveborn, was it?” He straightened his glasses, smiling at me with teeth. “Come with us. I think it's time we find out exactly how much you're worth.”
----------------------------------------