Benjamin sat back, Stunned. Not only was there some massive war that occurred in ancient history, but the two people he first met were over 1500 years old… “That’s, a lot to take in. If You are linked to Jukha, you should be able to find him?” Vilora bowed her head, “I could follow the link as you say, but.” She was cut off by an involuntary hiss from her own lips as a new sparkling slash appeared on her cheek. “Every blow Jukha takes weakens me... If I were to find him, whoever has him would kill us both.”
Benjamin watched as the new wound began to slowly stitch itself back together, “How do you know someone has him, and not that he is simply mauled.” Viola winced as her cheek healed, “because of this.” She unbuttoned the top of her bouse, exposing the upper part of her chest just above her busts. *This ends when you find us, come alone.* “Whoever has him knows about us. They recut this into Jukha’s skin every time it heals. Along with…. Other things.” She quickly buttoned her top back up. “Please, Benjamin. You are the only one who will not treat me with fear or vengeance. The differences between the Fay and the Vin have been lost to time. The vast majority of the Farie left are Fay, and their machinations appear enough that explaining the difference would be less than useless.”
Benjamin stood, stepping over to Volira, “I will do what I can, but I need to prepare. You will stay the night here, and we will depart the following evening’s darkness.” Volira nodded, “Viola, I don’t want to make you do anything, but is it alright if you could help Volira to my spare bunk. I’ll be making enough heat to keep the building warm. You and your sister should be comfortable enough without me tonight. I must begin.”
“I.. I can do it.” Viola stammered, still clearly afraid of the Farie. Jukha’s wife looked over at the forge, “It will take you several hours to get the forge lit properly, and you have no tools.” Benjamin simply picked up a piece of scrap iron, using majik to agitate the metal itself until it grew red hot. “I’ll be ok.” He smiled.
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Vilora awoke to a still quite warm room, Benjamin’s two slave girls lay under a bundle of blankets, still keeping together for warmth as she slipped out of the room and into the small workshop. Benjamin was asleep in a chair, hands still dirty from his nights work. His capacity for Majik came as a shock, but not a surprise to the Farie and she walked gingerly to check on him. She had not been allowed a restful night sleep. Whoever had her bound continually gave him little nicks and cuts, almost as if to keep her from sleeping through the night. Ben woke with a start before she reached him, and he looked around frantically before his wits returned to him, “Morning.” He grumbled, slowly standing from the chair and stretching. “How are you feeling.” he asked gently.
Vilora winced at a fresh cut, this one across the underside of her left bust. “I live. It will take a bit more to kill me. Are you ready?” Benjamin stretched, “Mostly, but I need to visit the Alchemist. I have some spare jerky in the pack. If I’m not back by the time the girls wake, it is theirs to eat. They need it more than I do.” Vilora nodded as Benjamin dipped his hands in some water, washing away what he could before departing the building.
Benjamin had been to the alchemist only once before, to acquire a cure for one of Qort’s many hangovers. His feet carried him across the town square, and to the front stoop of the establishment. The Being who ran it was named Morique, and he was yet another colorful representation of the vast variety of thinking beings in this Realm. Morique still roughly 6 ft 1in tall, he bore jet black hair, that was smartly trimmed into a short style, and his thin build was punctuated by an angular face. He would have looked the perfect copy of an Elf from one of Tracy’s books, had he not sported a pronouncedly hooked nose, grey slick skin, a full smile of serrated sharklike teeth, and an extra set of arms with clawed hands. The Shark-ant-elf man smiled widely as he saw Benjamin, forcing the Human to violently smother several intense instincts. “BeenJayman, welcome! Has Qort run out of the Piclin root already?” Ben forced a smile back, remembering that the strange and terrifying was now normal, “No Mori, Qort is fine. I’m here on my own accord. May I browse for a moment?”
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Viola woke slightly before Valrtya. They had gone to bed with full bellies for the first time since they were children and were kept cozy by Benjamin’s work in the forge bleeding heat into the room. The Farie was nowhere to be seen at first, but Viola found her in the main forge room, a single old pot sitting next to a roaring wood fire inside the forge, “Good morning.” Vilora smiled weakly, “It’s not much, but a warm soup might be better than jerky for breakfast. It will be ready in a moment.” The farie winced hard and held her side, probably from another attack on her bound.
“I… I.. can help, keeper of..” Viola was cut off by a wave of Vilora’s hand, “Please child, I haven’t deserved that title in over a millennia. Just call me Vilora, please sit.” Viola nodded, but instead went to grab a pair of bowls that she and her sister had cleaned the night before. She scooped a pair of ladle-fulls of food for the two of them as the Farie limped to the table. “Thank you, child. A toll, this is taking on me. Viola is it, and your sister is Valtrya.” Viola nodded, taking an appreciative sip of the steaming concoction. “We are.” She said finally. “I did not know the Vin still lived until last night. Do our names offend you?”
Vilora smiled kindly, “No, dear. It was a surprise to find an Aereesin with a Vin given name, let alone two. May I ask about them?” Viola froze for just a moment before taking another spoonful of soup to her lips. Swallowing, she finally spoke, “My people had no choice in the war, you know this better than even I. Mother and father were on forced breeder farm. We were her 40th clutch, and she gave every one of her children a Vin name. It was her way of giving her offspring a small chance at finding happiness. Very few remember the Vin, but they exist. She never found out if it worked, but she did it all the same.” Viola bowed her head, remembering her mother for a moment.
“How much does Ben know about you and your sister.” Vilora asked gently, and Viola shook her head, “He know’s the name of my people. He knows they are branded traitors. His Forgemaster told him what the world thinks we are good for, but I do not believe he knows anything more.” Vilora watched the girl for signs of deceit and found none, “Please, kee… Ms Vilora. Benjamin is more than we could ever ask for. Please do not push him to rid himself of us. He wishes to give us more skills that those we learned with our thighs.” Viola’s eyes glistened, “This world has already taken my sister’s voice, I only wish for it to not take her life.”
“I see.” Vilora said, “Peace, child. You need not fear my swaying BeenJaymin from you. Please, just be careful.” Viola nodded vigorously, taking another bite and wiping her eyes just before Benjamin stepped back through the door carrying several bags.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Ah good, the fire is lit. Viola, are there any pots of particularly poor quality, it will not be safe for cooking after I am finished.” Benjamin set the bags down at the counter. Viola stood to get it for him, only to be waved back into her seat, “The one on the far end. Its handles are broken.” She said instead.
Ben grumbled slightly before picking up the pot and filling it a portion full of water, “It will have to do.”
Valtrya stumbled into the room, awoken by all the noise, and Viola poured her sister a portion of the soup. No one left the old forge turned lodging for the rest of the day. Benjamin seemed content to ricochet around the workshop doing Cosmos knew what for several hours until darkness fell. As the sun slipped below the horizon, the four of them departed, and Benjamin was stopped short by an annoyed Qort walking up as they were leaving. Viola, Valtrya, and Vilora slipped into the shadows as the Durr stomped up, “Benjamin, what is the meaning of all this.” He dropped his accent, as was his wan’t when he wanted to be understood. “I give you a lodging and work, and you disappear a day later. What the hells is wrong with yee.”
Benjamin sighed, “Qort, I must go. I can’t explain it all, but Jukha is missing, and I have to go find him.”
“So! Yee couldn’t tell me this in the morning?!? What’s really going on, Albino” Benjamin winced at the use of the moniker but met Qort’s gaze levelly, “I should have. Everything is true, but it is more complicated than my explanation. If I live, I will return and explain what I can. I’m not running off on my favorite Forgemaster.”
“If yee live hmm.” Qort eyed Benjamin up for a moment his face shifting to one of grim understanding, “Well, yee took down Korgan easy enough. If you don’t come back, I get whatever yee left in that warehouse.”
“Deal,” Benjamin smiled, clamping the Durr on the shoulder, “We will talk when we return.” Qort raised an eyebrow, “We?” before waving his arm at Benjamin’s silence, “Fine, when you come back.” With that the Forgemaster turned and stomped back from where he came from.
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Vilora had not come by wagon, but by wing. She could no longer fly well enough to make the return trip, and she certainly could not carry Benjamin and the girls. Viola and Valtrya were still extremely thin, but they were no longer in danger of dying from malnutrition. It still took two days to return to Jukha’s cottage, and the Girls had to share his blanket for the night, to the consternation of Vilora. They arrived to find the cabin in shambles, the furniture was smashed to pieces, and a portion of the barn as burned to the ground. “I came home to this from a forage for herbs” Vilora said softly, “I almost didn’t get the barn put out.”
Benjamin felt that familiar rage build in his chest, “have they returned?” Vilora simply shook her head, “I don’t like that they know where your home is…” He pulled his bowie knife from its sheath, “Take this, It’s not much, but I will be back as soon as I can.” Viola took the knife, staining a bit to hold it, “I will protect the Kee… Vilora. Please, come back Benjamin.”
“I will” he said, and Benjamin hefted the improvised packs he had made from a spare rug and some iron. It was heavy, cumbersome, and ill comforted; but it would have to do. Benjamin took a deep breath, starting out in the direction that Vilora pointed him in. The end of the first day had him sleeping under the forest canopy, a simple fire scaring away whatever roamed the night of the FeralWood. The second day he was about to give up when he heard screaming, and he slowly crept towards the sound until darkness fell, He lit no fire that night, creeping through the darkness towards the sounds of torment. What he found when he reached the small clearing left red tinges to the edges of Benjamins vision.
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“Aye, this never gets old.” Brogue’s sinister chuckle accompanied the screams of the Orc as he carved more obscene scenes into the chest of their captive. The Durr was an outcast slaver turned Monster killer. His family had cast him out after one two many virgin slave girls turned up no longer fit to be sold at a virgin’s premium. His partners, a disgraced lancer Orc named Jaars, and a Hellirine named Kastina. The red skinned woman wore barely but a simple loincloth and string top, flaunting her body while she ran a sharpening stone over her naturally forming forearm spikes. The last of their crew, an orc from the lower cast by the name of Yuurak was off on a scout now that they believed the fay to be sufficiently weakend, “How, yee’doin rot slave. Feelin’ ready for another ‘bout?”
An exasperated sigh escaped the Hellirine put the stone down for a moment, “Give it a rest Brogue. You know the smell of blood make me horny.” Brogue reacted without hesitation, driving the dagger through their captives shoulder, “Aye’m right here, If’yee wanna blow off steam.” Kastine stood and visibly bit her lip, drawing a few drops of her own blood that she licked clean before sauntering towards Brogue, “tempting, but we’re on the job”
Brogue barked a laugh, “Never stopped us before, but so be it. When is Jaars supposed to be back.”
“He was supposed to be here already” Kastina shrugged, “Maybe he went back to the cabin to sniff knickers.” The two of them laughed heartily, and Brogue slammed his fist into their captive as he struggled. “You might be right, He’s a bigger perve than I am. How much juice does this bitch still have left in her. This poor fuck is almost already healed up”. Kastina finished sauntering up to the captive and Brogue, squatting down next to their captive, “Don’t worry you poor thing, I know you aren’t really there. Your body will rest soon. The bitch that reanimated you will die slow for it.”
Jukha’s just growled his defiance back at them. He had tried to speak when he was first captured, but these hunters had simply believed that he was parroting a sent message from Vilora. He didn’t know how long he was bound, one stab, slash, or crass carving seemed to flow into the other at this point. He could feel his bound’s exhaustion. These hunters could not tell, but he knew she was weakening, and he prayed they didn’t find her.
“Aye needa take a piss, Don’t run off now, or I might have to take a few toe’s.” Brogue laughed before sauntering off toward the edge of the clearing.
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Benjamins heart froze as he watched the Durr swagger directly towards him. Ben had found a mostly clear puddle of mud, and smeared it across his face and down his kneck. While thoroughly disgusting, he needed something for his extremely pale skin to blend in with the night. He slowly drew his stelleto, tensing up as the Durr stopped directly in front of him and began unbuttoning his trousers. “Did our employer say anything about a bonus? Maybe I could get a pair of her wings as a trophy. That would make us all rich.” He said, unbuttoning fully.
Benjamin took the advantage, waiting until both hands of the Durr were fully.. occupied.. He sprang his trap, exploding up from the bush he was hiding in, driving the triangular blade directly up under the chin of the Durr, through his upper pallet and into the brain.
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Jukha heard the tell-tale gurgle of Benjamins strike, but so did the Hellirine, “Brogue!!” She shouted, grabbing her lance and sprinting toward the already falling Durr. Jukha’s eyes could only widen as a familiar face, covered in mud, and topped with fiery red hair stepped over the dead hunter. “You’re dead mother fucker!” Screamed Kastina, lowering her lance into a full on charge, her shield and her armor forgotten in rage. Benjamin’s eyes held a violent mix of burning rage, and terrible calm. He slipped a strange lance from his shoulder, this one with a crude rope strap. He didn’t lower it to meet the charge. Instead he swiped his hand over a strange contraption near one end, and placed the wooden end to his shoulder. Jukha readied himself to watch the pink skin become a Kabob on the end of the Red woman’s spear, just before Benjamin disappeared behind a violent bubble of flame and thick grey-white smoke.
The center of the back of the Hellirine’s head exploded, showering Jukha in blood and gore. Three more holes added to the grizzly drizzle as the red woman dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. There was no wind this night, and the smoke hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity before an atrociously calm Benjamin stepped through the cloud, wiping the mud from his face as he ignored the bodies at his feet. He stepped up to jukha, quickly freeing his binds, “Can you walk, we need to go. NOW.”
“Is Vilora safe.” Jukha gasped, rubbing his wrists as the last of the cuts slowly closed.
Benjamin growled before answering, “I don’t know. I left her with the girls at your home. We need to get back… now!” Jukha’s eyes widened, remembering the conversation about the third hunter. He stood quickly, picking up his bow and his skinning knife, “I can get us back quickly.” He pauses as he watched Benjamin pull a small packet of parchment from his pocket, he tore the end off with his mouth, pouring a tiny bit of black dirt into the contraption on the outside of his strange blunt spear. Ben closed the contraption, setting the wooden end on the ground and pouring the rest of the sizable amount of black dirt into the metal end before stuffing the whole thing down the hole in the front of the very much not a spear. Ben then reached for a long straight dowel he had strapped to his backpack, slamming it down after the parchment until it the dowel bounced. “I’m ready.” He said finally, locking eyes with Jukha. “Let move.”