Epilogue

Crossman bounded down the wooden walkway with a finesse that was uncharacteristic of someone of his size, or at least someone the size he resembled at the moment. He had a control over his sack and its shapeshifting abilities that few could match, and he had spent years mastering the use of his sack’s abilities. He was easily able to expand and reduce it at will, changing shape and creating new forms. This allowed him to easily slip through the tight crowd, even though he was now much larger than his normal size.

If someone had been watching closely, they would have seen Crossman's disguised body morphing as he moved through the crowd. It would shrink, wobble, dip, and curve, winding its way through the mass of socializing people. He would occasionally bump into someone purposefully, causing them to fall over and create a break in the crowd. This helped to maintain the illusion that it was Lennard who was crashing through.

Crossman also made the choice to make this body taller than the original Lennard. This placed his head more clearly above the heads of the other people in the crowd. This was a somewhat risky move, but it was necessary to make certain that the sect members didn't realize that their prey had already escaped them.

Crossman definitely had not planned on this evening's events. Fortunately, he had not had much to drink. He tended to get drunk very quickly and would unfortunately end up passed out before the party really got started. Tonight, he was looking forward to entertaining Harlow and Lennard, so he had remained sober. He had propositioned Lennard many times, but the large man always politely refused. He wasn't sure if that was due to lack of interest or whether Lennard didn't want to disrupt the friendship they had developed. Either way, now that Harlow had initiated their get-together, he was excited to finally see for himself what his girls talked about.

When his guests had shown up so early, Crossman had been surprised and excited even. When Lennard asked for escape, his heart sank. Not only for the loss of his night of fun, but also because when someone asked for escape, they were rarely heard from again.

Crossman's tailor shop was legitimate in front, but it held many secrets in the back. First and foremost was his brothel. It was not the only one in town, but it was much nicer than the other three. The ladies at the other establishments had to bathe at their own homes and would see multiple clients per night. "Disgusting," Crossman thought to himself and shivered.

No, not his ladies and lad. They had their own in-house tubs and were encouraged to bathe after each client. Cleanliness was essential in this business, especially for Canursids, who quickly developed a musky odor when they didn't bathe frequently. Crossman could easily smell when one of the large bear-dogs had skipped a bath or two. Other Canursids didn’t mention it, but Crossman knew their noses were as keen as his.

Another thing that separated his establishment from the other two was its secrecy policy. Only certain people knew of his brothel, and very few of those people were from out of town. Crossman and his employees vetted prospective clients for years sometimes before allowing them to enter his establishment.

The second secret that Crossman's business hid was something that even fewer people knew about. He had an underground hiding area beneath his store. It was there to keep people safe and hidden until he could arrange their transport away. The clientele who used this feature were those who had been victims of abuse or violence. They would be referred by someone trusted, such as Lennard. Luckily, it was used very little since the town was so small. However, if someone needed a way out without being seen, his underground wagon-train was the best way to go about it.

Crossman himself had had to use such a system in his past. To repay those who had helped him, he maintained the secret area and the connections to those who could move people when needed. He was not a prominent member, but he had ties to the group responsible for the underground wagon-train that rescued people in need. The group in question was called VerborgenVos.

He had contracts with certain merchants who frequented the town. They were also part of VerborgenVos. The town's central location in the country meant that many merchants brought clients through, and several clients had made Greenby their home. The need for the underground wagon-train was not great in Greenby, but unfortunately, in many other places, the need for the group was much more essential.

He had come from a place where the group was frequently called upon. The city he had grown up in was along the border between two countries that were constantly at war.

His city, Lezyagta, was more of just a base of operations for mercenaries and cutthroats. These were the types of people who had enamored him when he was younger, but in the end he didn't have what it took to be a real monster like them. He had to escape with the help of a local tavern owner who was also a member of VerborgenVos.

Memories were enjoyable, but he needed to focus. Crossman stopped his reminiscing and focused on the road ahead. He had angled north along the walkway at first, but then veered across the main street. He wanted to lead the thugs as far away from his shop as possible, and this had been the clearest path.

Now though, he knew he couldn't just turn back and return the way he'd come from, or the diversion wouldn't work. At least he couldn’t do that while he still looked like Lennard.

Crossman stopped and turned his head, still towering above the crowd, and looked to see how far the groups of monks had followed after him. He had led them nearly a block away from The Dapper Dragon now, so he decided it was time to end the chase. It was time for part two of the plan.

Before he shrank down and changed his identity, Crossman spied a man and woman standing on a platform in the distance. He could also see an ecclesiastical of the Ailuropoda church standing with them. It was easy to spot the ecclesiastical because of their large, garish hats. Crossman was glad that they never came to his shop for repairs on those ugly things.

It was rare to see an ecclesiastical out in the open, especially in Greenby. To his knowledge, there were only two ecclesiasticals in the town, and they rarely left the compound. Crossman was intrigued, so he took a closer look at the people on the platform. He recognized the Mayor's wife, Jenba, and the man standing next to her looked like Brodil, the town drunk. But this man didn't seem drunk at all. He was standing up straight and didn't have the slightest hint of a wobble. "That can't be Brodil, can it?" Crossman thought to himself.

The squad of monks that had been following him were closing in fast, but Crossman couldn't help but stare at the trio for a moment longer. He didn't know Brodil well, but he had seen him around at times. He had even had Harla investigate him when Lennard had introduced Harlow as his partner. It had to be the same man.

"Could those two have something to do with Lennard's need to escape?" Crossman asked aloud. He received a few curious stares from the people around him, but he paid them no attention. They were clueless to his and his friends' plight.

The lead monk pushed aside the woman directly in front of Crossman. This was his cue to leave. He ducked out with a swift spin, sliding between two people dancing behind him. He instantly deflated his sack, ending his disguise. There were few people who knew he could do this, and he knew better than to tell the world his secrets.

With his small size, he stepped in between the legs of another man and covered himself once again in his magical sack. His form grew once again, but nowhere near as large as before. He now resembled his employee Harla, and strolled quietly through the crowd with a flourish.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The church squad pushed without a second glance at Crossman’s new form and continued in the same direction he had been moving in. His job was done, for now, so he began mingling and dancing with people in this exquisite female form. Harla was beautiful, for a Canurisid, and had no difficulty finding a cup of mead to occupy her hand as she made her way back to The Dapper Dragon.

Crossman let the man spin him one last time, still looking like Harla, before deflating his sack and quickly returning to his normal form. The man looked around dazedly, but shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

"The fireworks were fantastic this year," Crossman thought to himself as he left the festivities. The Mayor had hired a group of Felinials from the East to put on the show, and the colors were more vibrant than Crossman had ever seen.

As the fireworks came to an end and the people continued to dance and sing, Crossman took one last glance at the podium where the ecclesiastical had stood with Jenba and Brodil. It was now vacant, but there were still black and white-clad figures dispersing themselves through the crowd.

Before he let himself into his establishment, Crossman caught a whiff of a strange smell. He looked to the west, where an orange glow had begun to brighten the sky in that area. Loud cracks and hisses could soon be heard, and bright yellow flames began to lick at the darkness above the taverns across the street. With an unwavering certainty, Crossman knew the fire was coming from where the clinic was.

Crossman watched the flames grow larger, knowing for certain that the clinic and his friend Lennard's home were now lost. A sadness came over him. He had done what he could to help Lennard and Harlow, and knew they would have to be transported away in secret to remain safe, but he was still hoping his friends would be able to go home one day. The orange glow marked the death of that hope.

He still didn't know what his friend had gotten into, but he had never heard of the church going so far as to burn down someone's home and business. This town sadly lacked a real justice system. The laws and governance over the laws fell mainly to the church.

It was an antiquated system, and one that he himself, along with a number of other business owners, had attempted to change on multiple occasions. It wasn't just business owners either. Townsfolk had been vocal about retaining a law force as well. Somehow the church always seemed to win the argument.

A bit of movement through the alley across the street caught Crossman's attention. There he witnessed something horrible. Something he never thought to see. Tied to a long pole of wood, being carried by members of the Ailuropoda who were all dressed in their typical black and white, was a man. A man he knew well.

It was the mayor of Greenby, Kyaro Ansong, and he was strung up along the pole. He was bound by his hands and feet. Another ecclesiastical, or perhaps the same one he had seen before, walked in front of the procession. The crowd of people parted as he led the members, including Jenba and Brodil, back towards the church.

Crossman was horrified. He had never seen anything like this before. He wasn’t sure what to do now. He felt helpless and just stood there. He watched as the procession disappeared into the darkness, his heart sinking the entire time.

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Niko and Neko knew they had to act fast. They had to get home and hide their contraband books and items, or they would join the mayor and the others in the same fate.

Leaving Mika behind was the hardest thing they had ever done. They had practiced for scenarios like this in the past, so they knew what to do. When they told her to visit her aunt, it was code for her to meet them at the family woodcutting shack in the Northwest forest in one week. They trusted the people there in that room, but not the church. They knew that any secret about Mika and Maka's whereabouts would be best left unknown, especially since they didn't know what the church was going to do to Kyaro.

They ran as fast as they could to the elevated walkway over the gate, not even bothering to check for guards first. They immediately regretted this, as they knew their quickness would look suspicious. But they had to get home, and the evidence they had in their possession could easily get them arrested.

They gave a friendly wave to the monks acting as guards as they passed, and luckily they didn't stop them. The other people they encountered along the way looked at them strangely, but they quickly excused themselves, saying they needed to run home for party supplies.

It took them no more than two minutes to reach their home. They knew exactly where to go and what to do. They used their telepathy to communicate silently with each other, so they knew exactly where to go and what to grab.

In under five minutes, they had gathered all their possibly controversial items and locked them in a hidden compartment built into the side of one of their carts. The exterior of the compartment mimicked logs sitting on top of the back of the cart. It had never been noticed before, so they felt reasonably comfortable leaving them in there.

They exhaled in relief after hiding the contraband items. They debated whether to stay home and wait for the ecclesiasticals to arrive, or to go celebrate while they could. Kyaro said he would keep their names out of this, but they feared his wife. They had talked to her about bonding Mika and Maka, so they knew they would at least be questioned, no matter how good of a story Kyaro could weave.

After a quick debate, they agreed that it would look even more suspicious if they stayed home during the festival. So they walked back up to the center square to make an appearance.

As the brothers arrived back at the town square, they were greeted enthusiastically and almost immediately had large cups of mead shoved in their hands. They were well-known in Greenby, their family being considered some of the original settlers there. Kyaro had been correct when he said they were too important to the town for the church to really go after them.

The influence of the Ailuropoda religion seemed particularly heavy tonight. The religion had recently begun to expand into other lands, and they were always recruiting new members. Something they spoke of resonated with people, even though its basic principles related almost exclusively to Canursids.

The twins went easy on the drink, preferring to remain sharp tonight. They had been through a lot already, but who knew what else the night may still have in store for them?

The twins observed the abundance of Ailuropoda monks throughout the crowd and wondered where they had all come from. The sheer numbers made them feel uneasy, and they avoided the groups as much as possible. They could tell they were not the only ones who felt this way.

They stayed until the fireworks were finished, which technically ended the festival, then they joined the small number of people who actually left the area. It was the harvest festival, a time when people celebrated the last of the warm nights. Most of the town stayed up late and enjoyed themselves, knowing that it wouldn't be possible for much longer.

Before they could leave the square, however, an orange glow caught their attention, as well as the attention of the people around them. A fire brigade was quickly formed, and the twins were first in line. As they approached the burning building, a circle of black and white monks blocked them from dousing the flames.

The sect members told the twins to pour the water on the surrounding buildings to keep them from catching fire. The orders were strange, and the people began to ask questions. Murmurs began to spread quickly. Everyone knew this was the clinic, and they asked where the physician was. They couldn't understand why the church would allow the clinic to burn, let alone the house of the physician.

The twins fed the rumors and stoked the people's fear. The sect members were obviously told to say, "The physician and his young apprentice have committed an atrocity. They are now wanted by the Ailuropoda. Any details of their whereabouts will be greatly appreciated." They repeated this response numerous times.

Before long, fights broke out between the members of the black and white sect and the townspeople. Unfortunately, by the time the riot happened, the buildings were beyond salvaging.

It quickly became clear that the twins had done all they could do. They had gotten the people questioning what had happened to Lennard and Harlow, and they had also placed doubt in their minds about the members of the black and white sect being there. It was time for them to go home and face their own inquisition.

The twins walked back towards their home, feeling tired but satisfied. They knew that they had done the right thing, even if it meant putting themselves in danger. They would face whatever the church had to throw at them, they had done everything they could do to protect Mika, as well as Lennard and Harlow.

As they had guessed, a squad of black and white monks awaited their arrival. But this was not a simple squad. At its lead was an ecclesiastical, followed by two members they knew all too well: Jenba Ansong and Brodil Otsoa. Their presence was unusual, but it was nothing compared to the sight of Kyaro Ansong, the mayor of the town, tied to a long pole at the hands and feet. His body was bloody and bruised, and his expression was one of pain and humiliation.

The twins were shocked and outraged. They couldn't believe that the sect would show such disrespect to the mayor. "What in the hell is going on here?" they demanded.

“We are purging the wicked.” The man in the large hat said in a nasally voice. “Are you two wicked as well?”

Jenba pointed at them and shouted, “They are the ones who wanted to bond their little sister to my son!”

“They helped turn my boy into the physician's sex slave as well.” Brodil chimed in. His voice was clear, but held no emotion.

The brothers were taken aback by Jenba's fervent accusations. She yelled at them directly, accusing them of untrue actions and situations, and naming them as accessories.

"We have done no such thing!" Niko yelled back. Neko placed his hand across his brother's chest as if to hold him back.

“Look there, they are perverts themselves too!” One of the non-descript members called out.

The twins looked at each other with confused faces. “You are now accused of perversion of the flesh as well. How do you plead? The nasally ecclestiastical asked.

“What?” They answered in unison?

“Perversion of the flesh, proposition of a minor, and sex trafficking. How do you plead?” The nasally man repeated.

"Not guilty, of course," Niko said.

"We have done nothing of the sort," Neko echoed.

"We shall be the judge of that," the ecclesiastical said. He waved his hand, and the rest of the squad moved forward to bind the brothers.

They could see every tooth in Jenba’s mouth as she smiled wickedly. She raptly watched them as they were forced to the ground and bound.

Thank you for reading The Soft underside; Canursid Tails vol 1

I hope you have enjoyed this story and continue reading through the next book.

A Slight Resistance Canursid Tails volume 2