“Lord Daniel?”
Daniel sighs. It’s not Aoloan. It’s Paet, the elder of the two young tigeress women. While possessing more features of a tiger than the gatonines do with cats, they aren’t much different in the grand scheme of things. One has attractive blue coloring with black stripes, while the other has silvery gray hair and fur where present, with dark gray stripes. Both of their eyes are vibrant jade-green, with cat-like vertical pupils. Though, their expressions are relatively gentle at the moment.
“I told you, Aoloan and Kera’tai are messing with me. Please just call me Daniel.”
Paet glances at Weya, her companion, and they both fidget.
With a sigh, Daniel asks, “What is it?”
“Commander Kera’tai mentioned that you collected all of the bodies felled in the battle.”
Daniel hesitates for a moment as he continues sorting small items in a couple bags. He replies cautiously, “I did.” He keeps his hand close to his hip, where his revolver is located. He still hasn’t fired it, but its hammer cycles properly, so it shouldn’t have issues.
“Did… Did she still have her revival potation?”
Again, Daniel hesitates to answer. He feels like they’re being sincere, and they aren’t trying to probe him as an enemy, but as an ally.
“Yes. I have it. Though, I don’t know which body is hers. I won’t revive the dragon.”
Paet shakes her head. She sinks to the ground and bows her head to the ground itself. Weya follows suit, and Paet pleads softly, “Please revive our [Mikadresselle]. We shall serve you in payment, and pay any price.”
“Mikadresselle?”
“Yes. In simple terms, she is our princess. Dattakoriens answer to the Demon Queen when she calls, but we are protected by the Mikadresselle. She is our voice. It… was… beyond her control that she became concubine to the Dragon Lord’s younger brother.”
Daniel ponders the information with a nod. While it’s definitely a tale incomplete, he believes the sincerity of the presentation of the story. From the context, he figures the Mikadresselle is close to a princess or duchess, and the ‘Dattakoriens’ -the tigerfolk- regard her as a high ranking official in that regard.
“Tell me about her. What is her role?”
Paet explains, “She answers to the Queen, and she chooses her warriors when battles are decided. It was my and Weya’s great honor to serve alongside her, as well as our comrades. But, without her, the Queen can order us as slaves, should she be so inclined.”
“I meant more of her personality. Is she a cruel person? Will she get along with a human?”
Paet confirms confidently. “She is open-minded and slow to judgment or anger. That you have treated the rest of us well will reflect highly on her. Her voice would be strong in aiding in your endeavors.”
“I don’t need connections right now, but I believe you. Would you give your life for her?”
Both Dattakoriens nod. Their feline ears flick nervously, but not in attempted deceit. “She is kind and wise. Much like Lord Daniel.”
“Ah. Flattery. Nice.” Daniel’s sarcasm is just for the sake of sarcasm. He has no objections about reviving a princess, since he has no one else to revive at the moment. Assuming she has the influence these two claim, it could prove to be useful down the road. But, more importantly, if he uses -even if it’s considered a waste- the revival potation on this Mikadresselle, then she can’t beg for the dragon to be revived in turn. He has only the one, after all.
Daniel agrees to revive her, “Alright. I’ll revive her. But, you have to make sure she doesn’t try to kill me. Agreed?”
The two tiger-like women nod in agreement. “Of course, my Lord.”
“If I have to kill her again, I’m not helping you.”
They nod. “We will defend you if she is hostile. But, I assure you, she will hear reason.”
Daniel agrees to revive the Mikadresselle. He invites them to pick out which of the bodies is hers. They can recognize her apparently rare golden color with red stripes, which is certainly not like any other tiger of Earth, but because all of the beastfolk were exotic looking with colors that wouldn’t be natural on Earth for the terrestrial creatures they resemble, he paid it no mind. And, Daniel recognizes the fancy shoulder pauldrons she’s wearing, as well as a fairly elegant outfit compared to the others. It’s tattered compared to what it’s supposed to look like, and because of the blood and injuries, she didn’t stand out against the other corpses. However, once she’s extracted, both tiger women confirm she is definitely the Mikadresselle.
Daniel then finds his potation bag and extracts the revival potation, identifying it via the dragon emblem on it; the most distinctive symbol of the five symbols present. Aoloan asks softly, “My Lord,... Are you certain?”
Daniel confirms with a chuckle, “Sure. Who else should I use it on, presently? If I need more, maybe I should collect some more. So long as they’re in storage, I have all the time in the world, right?”
She nods her head in astonished acquiescence. “I suppose…”
Paet adds to emphasize, “The Mikadresselle has a strong voice in the Court of the Covenant. She will be a strong ally for you, my Lord.”
“I’m sure.” Daniel’s reply is a little dismissive, though he’s confident enough it’s true. He feeds the revival potation to the Dattakorien woman. He’s skeptical that a deceased person will revive, but there is magic in this world, so he approaches his own skepticism with a cautious optimism.
And, sure enough, the woman’s body squirms and she coughs, taking a breath. Daniel then feeds her a healing potation and a blood restorative, ensuring her recovery is assured, since she definitely lost a lot of blood, given the wounds she has.
The two tiger women relax and bow. “Thank you, Lord Daniel.
“I’m not nobility or a master. PLEASE just call me Daniel.”
“We can not. That you showed such reverence for our most exalted, you are surely worthy of great prestige.”
Daniel sighs. “Where I come from, it’s just decent behavior to try to help others.”
The two stare at him, and he instructs, trying to deflect, “Take care of her. I’m going to continue sorting my inventory.”
They nod, and they carefully move her to one of the shelter shells, tucking her in and nursing her as they monitor her wellbeing. She’s certainly stable, and the healing potation restored her injuries, so it’s mostly a matter of time waiting for her to awaken. And, the sun is setting, so it’ll soon be time to sleep.
Daniel approaches Paet early in the evening. “Paet?”
“Y-yes, My Lord?” She fidgets, facing him with a rather docile presence.
Daniel asks, “You’re pretty strong, right?”
“I… Yes, I believe so, my Lord.”
“And, do you want to sleep with me?”
“Wh-!? Um, My Lord, I will do as you ask…”
“That’s not what I’m asking. I want to know if you, yourself, desire to be intimate with me.”
She hesitates, and he quickly adds before she agrees again under some misguided sense of obligation. “I’m hoping the answer is ‘no’. I’d like someone to keep Aoloan and Kera’tai away while I sleep. You can sleep as well, but I need someone trustworthy in my proximity.”
Paet points at herself, asking, “A-... And you choose me, My Lord?”
Daniel nods with a sigh. “I KNOW I can’t rely on Aoloan and Kera’tai to control themselves, and the goblins are subordinate to all of us and content with that subordination. That leaves just you or Weya. You seem most mature.”
Paet blushes and bows. “Y-You flatter me, my Lord. I… If it’s what you wish, I shall protect you.”
“Don’t be alert all night. Just be close to deter the other two. That’s all I want.”
She nods confidently. “I think I understand, my Lord. I shall not leave your side.”
“Thank you,” replies Daniel. “I just want a peaceful night’s sleep if I can attain it.”
She states a little more gung ho than he was planning on, “I shall ensure it, my Lord.”
“Thank you.” In any case, that’s one small problem solved.
They establish a watch rotation for watching over the Mikadresselle, whose name -or, friendly name, like the others- is Baeka. Baeka is resting peacefully with no signs of complication from the various potations Daniel used on her. She might wake up with a hangover, thanks to their alcoholic nature, but she’ll likely wake up, which is better than she was a few moments ago.
Daniel finishes his evening tasks and lays down to sleep, sleeping once more on his storage bags as a pillow.
True to her word, Paet keeps close to Daniel, sleeping in his shelter, but not cuddled against him the way Kera’tai did the last few nights. She is quiet and peaceful, and if anything, Daniel kind of likes having her around.
The next morning, Baeka wakes up as they’re preparing breakfast.
“Wh-... Where am I?”
Paet explains, catching her up on the battle and their proximity to Kera’tai’s village.
“A Feldrok sorcerer?” asks the Mikadresselle after it’s explained to her.
Daniel retorts dryly, “I object, but no one’s been listening to me.”
“But, you defeated our dragon leader, did you not?”
Daniel cautiously confirms. “I did.”
“And… you chose to revive me?”
He nods civilly. “Yes. At the request of your allies.” He gestures at Paet and Weya, and Baeka smiles at them. “Thank you all… My duty was supposed to be to Lord Red, but I am thankful to have been spared.” She bows to Daniel the same way the others did to plead for Baeka’s life.
Daniel replies gently, “That’s not necessary. Just treat me well, please. We’ll be out of each other’s hair soon enough.”
However, Baeka remains in the bowing position. “Please, Lord Daniel, Feldrok Sorcerer of the Eastern Realm; please save my people.”
Daniel stares at her for a moment. For the moment, the others are busy bathing themselves. Daniel asks, “What are you talking about?”
“Our people are suffering from a plague. The dragons promised a solution, but without Lord Red to keep his promise,... I fear our people will slowly wither and die.”
Daniel winces. “A… plague?” He’s far from a doctor, and if she’s relying on him actually being a sorcerer, she’s going to be severely disappointed.
She nods wearily. “Yes. It is afflicting more and more of our people every day.”
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Daniel hesitates. He can’t feign ignorance on solving a disease. But then, there are many things that he may be able to mitigate, given the advantages of antidote potations and his knowledge of modern technology.
Reluctant, but wanting to help if he can, Daniel asks, “What is the nature of this plague?”
“It is a plague the dragons have cured before with ancient medicine. It starts with our people losing strength and becoming weary. And, more obvious signs are losing teeth and blood, as well as wounds reopening even without new injury or strain. Eventually, curse shakes and death are close behind.”
Daniel listens patiently, and he tries to absorb the information. Whatever it is sounds like a rather elaborate disease, shutting down the victim’s body slowly and painstakingly. If it’s something similar to ALS -Lou Gehrig’s disease-, there’s almost nothing he can do to even slow the disease’s progression. But then, something sounds off about some of the symptoms she described.
Curious, he asks, “Tell me, Baeka; does the skin of those suffering this plague turn a yellowish color?”
She confirms nervously. “Y-Yes. Not long before death, and during the ensuing madness that overtakes some.”
“And, do they bruise from even light strikes that would normally never bruise?”
With wide eyes, she nods in surprise. “Y-yes! You know of this plague?”
Daniel sighs. “I hope so. Tell me, do you recognize this flavor?” Daniel withdraws a couple of different things from storage; some fruits that have a very citrus flavor, something very similar to raspberries, and something similar to broccoli -which disgusts him, but contains vital nutrients if anything else is unavailable-. “Do your people regularly eat any of these?”
Baeka is repulsed at first. “N-... No. We’re carnivores by nature. Foods like these induce homosexuality and weak constitutions.”
Daniel stares at her for a moment. “Wow… You… actually believe that?”
She stares at him in turn. “W-What do you mean?”
Daniel sighs. “Can you tell me how your people came to those two conclusions?”
“I… I’m not… sure…”
“I figured as much.” Daniel returns the fruits and vegetables to his bag. “I am fairly confident, from what you’ve described, that your people are suffering from scurvy. It’s actually a relatively simple affliction, but mysterious if you don’t know the cause.”
“I… I don’t know that I understand, my Lord.”
“In somewhat complex terms, it’s a deficiency in vitamin c; a vitamin found in many fruits and vegetables. Much as I hate the greens myself, fruits are a good source.” Daniel adds as he gestures gently with his hands, “With the symptoms you described, it sounds like scurvy. I bet, when the dragons provided their ‘cure’, your people recover pretty quickly.”
Baeka can only nod as she stares at him, hypnotized by his revelation.
“And, I’d be willing to bet the ‘cure’ tastes extremely tangy or sour.”
Again she is blown away. “Y-You can cure it?”
Daniel sighs. “There’s not really anything to cure. You just need to start intentionally increasing your vitamin c intake. Fruits, berries, vegetables… There are a lot. I don’t know all of them, but you can usually tell if it has a slightly acidic flavor, like these berries.” Daniel gives Baeka a couple of the raspberry-like berries, and she nibbles on one. She looks at him, asking, “This is the cure?”
“Like I said, it’s not a ‘cure’, per se. You need your people to start incorporating things like this into their diet. Farming them is a bonus. You can sometimes squeak by eating prey that contains vitamin C because they eat things high in vitamin C. However, if your prey doesn’t ingest enough, which can be affected by the region you’re in, you don’t get enough, and you eventually develop scurvy. Supplement your diet with fruits, especially, but vegetables as well, and you should see an improvement quickly.”
Baeka crawls on her knees, taking Daniel’s hand. “Please cure my people, Daniel.”
“I just told you…”
“You must present this wisdom to my people.”
“Why me? You’re a leader, aren’t you?”
“Y-... Yes. But, there are those who will object… We have been promised a cure by the dragons, so long as I abide by their demands… To suggest something else… It would be adjacent to blasphemy.”
Daniel sighs as he looks down. He murmurs softly, “Of course it is…” He looks at her, asking, “What am I supposed to do?”
She replies nervously, “Convince our people of the true nature of this plague.” She shrinks her posture a little, adding at a near whisper, “And… should they still refuse to listen…” She glances at Daniel’s “staff”, slung across his back. “U-Utilize your Feldrok magic…”
Daniel cocks his head. He replies cautiously, “You understand… My methods kill people, right? I can’t just demonstrate parlor tricks. If you ask me to intervene, someone will die.”
Baeka hesitates, but she stays steadfast. “I understand. If it means ending our reliance on the dragons, then so be it.”
“One last concern I have; will this not cause trouble between Dattakoriens and the dragons? If they’re manipulating you through such a basic ailment, will they not be angered to lose you as subordinates?”
She hardens her expression, but it’s not in anger at Daniel. “I once believed, like many others, that the dragons were a noble, proud, and elegant race. But, as… concubine, I saw behind the illusion. They are cruel to their own if they express any but the will of the Dragon Lord, which is bloodshed and death of lesser races. When our people first suffered from this… ‘scurvy’ disease, it is said that it was after a series of plagues had destroyed our largest cities, decimated swaths of farmland just before harvest, and poisoned the reserves.” She clenches her fists, digging her sharp claws into her palms. She nearly whispers the last part through gritted teeth, “And ever since, we’ve lived off only what we could hunt; the knowledge of what else was safe to eat lost long ago. And, every few years…”
Baeka becomes unable to speak as she trembles with rage, and Paet adds softly, “As carnivores larger than we are, our only option was to speak to the dragons. And, they shared medicine with us, so long as we provide tribute.”
Weya adds, “Regardless, we are nothing but servants to them now, and not only expendable, but actively hunted and killed by dragons for sport.”
Daniel sighs. “I see. I had no idea. I’ll meet with your people, Baeka, but I can’t promise I can save your people. Not without doing something about this Dragon Lord. I was able to defeat his brother because I was adequately prepared and he wasn’t. The Dragon Lord will undoubtedly be prepared for me.”
She reassures him. “If you can only save us from ignorance, if that truly is the cure to this plague, then that is better than nothing. Even if we simply have to keep the wisdom secret, we shall. Most of us don’t trust easily, but anything is better than what we suffer now.”
“I understand. Then, we’ll head out after our first task of the day. Kera’tai, we’ll return you to your village today. Aoloan, you may wish to remain here as well.”
Both of them ask, “Whaaaa-?”
“Kera’tai, you’re the commander of the militia that took away their Mikadresselle. I know it wasn’t your choice, but that’s the perception people who don’t know what I know would have. Aoloan,...”
The demoness accuses smugly, “You don’t have a good excuse for me, Daniel.”
Daniel halts his thought. She’s not wrong. She wasn’t a high-ranking officer or anything, and she’s likely the more dangerous of the two. Magic doesn’t directly affect him, but indirect effects, like magically summoned flames burning him, can still affect him. This means that he has no way of knowing for sure if he’s immune to hypnosis or other similar effects until he experiences them.
Daniel sighs. “Listen, I didn’t want to admit this, but where I come from, it’s acceptable. I’m not attracted to women. I’m attracted to men.”
All of the women present stare at him blankly. He adds uncomfortably, “Yeah, so,... I’d suggest we part ways while we’re on good terms. Thank you for your hospitality while we’ve been together.”
Kera’tai’s brain finally reboots, and she asks, “But… what about… conquering me?”
“Hmm? We’re even, aren’t we? I defeated you once, you defeated me once.”
He watches her face for a moment, and he can see the moment it registers; the small wrestling match that she ‘won’. “Regardless, I told you, I don’t collect warbrides. Now you know why. Please wish your friends and family well.” Daniel bows respectfully. “Take care, Kera’tai, Aoloan. Please see Aoloan and the goblins home safely, if you would.”
Kera’tai and Aoloan are both stunned, and they glance at each other. But, Daniel needs to move on. He had already resolved himself not to form attachments, especially after how close he was getting to Wenlianna, only for it to need to evaporate. He’s used to being a tool. He can mentally adjust when he’s just being used. He’s not helping Baeka overcome a simple ailment -assuming it is scurvy-, he’s going to likely have to kill someone. And, that will be a precursor to his real target in the matter, which is another reason he doesn’t want to drag along a bunch of companions.
Thankfully, Kera’tai and Aoloan reluctantly give in, though Kera’tai makes a point of warning, “You better come back as soon as your mission is done, Daniel.”
“Wh-... Why?”
Aoloan fills in, apparently thinking the same thing when Kera’tai nods in agreement; “You owe it to us to let us try to convert you.”
Daniel scoffs. “And, if you can’t?”
“We’ll worry about that later.” She smiles. “Come back soon, Daniel.” She winks at him.
He smirks. Of any of them, he suspects Aoloan is sharp enough to realize the truth. But, she’s going along with it, so he’s alright with that outcome.
With the three tigress women, Daniel joins them to head for their own village or settlement. He has a fair amount of rations that would last him, alone, years in the storage bags he has. However, it also contains plenty of fruit and vegetables, which should help get the afflicted back up to fighting strength as quickly as possible.
The real problem won’t be healing them, though. It’ll be dealing with the fallout of breaking the illusion that allows those in power to control the rest of the tigerfolk.
Daniel ensures he has his ammunition handy and that each weapon dry-fires like it’s supposed to. For the time being, he can’t replenish ammo, so he’ll have to be conservative.
But, he has enough if he’s careful to last a good long while; more than he should justifiably need simply for defending himself.
For now, he’ll have to see what he’s up against.
***************
The one known by lesser races only as ‘the Dragon Lord’ is truly a ruling lord in a loosely-formed empire. He stands above all, save the only being he seems to hold in some regard similar in level to himself; the Demon Queen. It’s unclear the relationship they hold, but regardless, he is left to his own devices because of his own immense power, as well as the power of the other dragons at his side.
He is the being she is kneeling before now. Not because she wants to, of course. She was born wrong. She is not a dragon, and the dragons never let her forget it. She doesn’t know why they hate her so much, but they do. And, she has been magically enslaved to the Dragon Lord.
She has no name. She is just ‘Slave’. In fact, she’s the only slave she knows of in the Dragon Lord’s employ, and it’s been that way ever since she was born. They look upon her like a monster; a wretch. Instead of horns, she has large, triangular ears on top of her head, covered in black fur matching her dark black hair, even though she can assume a humanoid form similar to the other servants of the dragons. Instead of a majestic tail with impenetrable scales, her tail is soft with bushy black fur. She is ugly to the dragons, in either her human or true form.
She never asked to be born.
But, she has been, and for now, she can only obey her orders.
“Slave…” His voice rumbles the room and commands all attention.
She looks up, waiting for instruction as always.
“I tire of looking at your wretched appearance. Prove you are not useless as well. Go to the Citadel and retrieve the treasure within.”
She flinches. She replies softly, “Master, the Citadel treasure… no one has been able to reach it… The feral Feldrok…”
“I did not ask for an opinion. Go. Do not return until you have the treasure.”
She can’t resist a direct order for long. She bows, replying quietly, “Yes, Master.” She departs for the Citadel, an ancient fortress of unknown origin. According to stories, which she only knows by overhearing the various servants and allies of the dragons when they gossipped, the Citadel is one of the last remnants of a society belonging to the Feldrok race, demonic monsters that once ruled the world.
The Feldroks are monsters that even dragons struggle to defeat, and they’re said to be capable of using all magic in the world, even some that has been forgotten since their near-extinction. So far as anyone knows, the Feral Feldrok is the last one in existence, and though it’s alone, Feldroks can live almost forever.
She doesn’t stand a chance, of course. The Dragon Lord knows this. He’s sending her to die or be stranded. And, if by some miracle, she defeats the Feral Feldrok, the Dragon Lord can claim the untouched treasure housed in the heart of the Citadel. The stories are varied, but one thing is true, the treasure is coveted by almost all living beings that know what it actually is supposed to be, which includes the Dragon Lord himself.
As she’s leaving, a messenger darts in past her, crying out to the Dragon Lord.
Her ears are powerful, even if they are ugly. She can hear him explain, “My Lord! I-It’s… It’s your brother!”
“What about him?”
“He’s… He’s been slain!”
She hesitates, but she can’t stop. She has to follow her last orders, and she was ordered to retrieve the treasure of the Citadel. However, she can feel the immense pressure of devastatingly dangerous rage surging in the Dragon Lord’s hoard, where he’s probably very close to killing the messenger.
She can’t disobey her orders, but she can choose how she carries them out. And, she decides to pick up the pace and disappear before she becomes collateral when the Dragon Lord’s sorrow and anger flare. He sent his brother to break through the lines and conquer the easterner fortress beyond the mountains. From there, they would begin claiming the territory around it before any of the other covenant leaders can respond, allowing the Dragons to control the resources for a profit. It was a sure victory, as the dragons are virtually invincible against any of the weapons the eastern Empire and its allies can forge. No blade can pierce or cut their scales, no arrow can pierce their hides, and no mount can defeat them in speed via land, sea, or sky. The only dragons defeated by easterners in history required thousands of soldiers in exchange and dozens of battles where fortresses were decimated.
But, it has only been a little over a week since the Lord’s brother departed to launch his attack. Anyone other than the dragon himself would take around a week to return to the Dragon Lord with news.
Which means, he was slain the very day he attacked the easterners.
While the Dragon Lord is likely to be furiously enraged, he won’t launch the retaliation yet. His power has made him complacent, but he knows that he dare not face an unknown threat if someone was able to kill his brother in a single day.
So, he’s going to send scouts to find this adversary and learn its weaknesses. The last thing she wants is to be part of that endeavor. Suddenly, trying to conquer the Citadel alone isn’t such a curse compared with hunting a dragonslayer.
And, if a miracle occurs, maybe she’ll meet the dragonslayer WITHOUT having orders to try to kill him herself.
In that situation, maybe even she will…
Tears fall from her eyes. She can keep her expression pretty stoic, but she’s not devoid of emotions. She never asked for the life she’s stuck in. She wants to be free. She wants to explore. She wants to see the world and eat food that has tastes matching the delightful smells coming from the meals served to the Lord and his kin.
She wants to have someone to talk to and do all of those things with.
She wants to be able to smile.
****************