***Noth - Mortal World***
***Sharid***
“This is the worst outcome ever! My epic journey to glory and salvation ended prematurely because I was too stupid to stay away from other humans! Although, in my defence, I have to say that I successfully escaped that fiasco at my hometown's gate. Then I trekked alone through the wilderness for two weeks before I somehow managed to stumble into a camp of bandits who turned out to be slavers.
“And to top everything off, I allowed myself to be captured like some inexperienced fool! As if I hadn’t learned the ins and outs of running away from evil men from the day I was born. Now I will be most likely sold as a lust slave! I wanna cry! Stupid life! Stupid curse! Stupid chains!-”
The young girl who is chained to the same tree as I am suddenly kicks me. “Miss! You are going to draw the slavers' attention.” She rolls her eyes. “And stop lamenting about the situation as if the world is at fault for your stupidity. Are you actually some senile hag on the inside? You actually deserve being caught if you make a habit of zoning out and talking to yourself. Which person with a shred of common sense walks right into another’s camp without checking out who the other party might be?” She huffs. “You sound like some maiden in distress who doesn’t know the ways of the world.”
I shut up, deciding that now isn’t the time to tell a girl younger than myself about my more than ‘liberal’ upbringing.
Still, my mouth is quicker than my common sense. “It’s not as if I am the only one who got herself caught,” I mumble.
Does it make me a bad person for being glad that others share my fate? By listening to the other prisoners I learned that the slavers attacked a small village earlier that day, overpowering the few able men and taking most of the women and children. Apparently, most of the men were out hunting when the slavers chose to attack.
For that reason, we had to march all day long since I was caught.
The bandits want to cross the border into the Zul Primarchy before anyone can catch up to them. If they succeed, it would likely result in us being sold on the Zul slave markets, destroying any hope of ever being free again. I heard that they collar their 'property' with magical bindings.
What horror stories I heard of the Zul makes the Church at home look like a cozy little cult.
Thankfully, the slavers stopped driving us forward when night fell and camped down for the evening. There are twenty of them and about fifteen slaves – mostly women and small children.
“Who cares! They will do horrible things to us once they feel safe enough. At latest once we are behind the border. Does it matter if it happens sooner or later?” I lament again, unable to share my worries with the little girl.
“You are a gloomy one, miss. Why don't we hope for the best and trust in our abilities and the gods?” she smiles at me, sounding like she genuinely believes in what she just said.
I chuckle. “Abilities and gods? Curse them all! I was on a journey to get rid of my abilities! And gods? The only thing I received from them so far were curses which made my life a living hell!” I spit on the ground to make a point.
“It looks like you had a hard life until now, miss. Care to tell me about it? Maybe I can help?” the little girl crosses her legs to sit in a more comfortable position – at least as far as her chains allow – and pats my shoulder.
I scoff and snap back, my mouth once more getting the better of me, “You are a little girl! Younger than me! How old are you? Twelve? Thirteen? How do you want to help me? You can't even imagine what I went through up until now.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth I already regret them. There is simply no good reason to vent my anger on a child. “I am sorry. Please, excuse me, but I am quicker to mouth off than is healthy for me. It always gets me into trouble.”
I slump down against the tree.
How could I have been so stupid to believe that I would manage such a journey alone! The real world is so different from a town. And how did I even expect to get into a magical academy with a curse like mine? I probably wouldn't have gotten past the capital’s gates!
“I may not look like it, but I lived in a monastery and received the best schooling possible from the monks who lived there. They thought I was too cute to be left on the streets. During my time there, I got to read many of their holy texts. So, if you tell me your story I may be able to lend a few wise words,” she replies, not sounding as offended as I feared. Only a little smug about the fact that I clearly misjudged her.
I sigh and use my toe to play with a stone while the sun slowly sets beyond the trees, diving the forest in darkness much earlier than the rest of the world. The sky is still blue, but the high trees see to it that everything is drowned in shadows. “My story isn't worth telling.”
She shrugs. “I want to judge that for myself. It isn't as if we have anything better to do.”
I turn, giving her dirty face a sceptical look. She really doesn’t appear like much with her brown hair and unassuming dark eyes. But I guess that those freckles give her a certain cuteness when she gets to clean herself up.
Her clothes, as well as those of the other prisoners, were already torn rags when I encountered them, meaning that they had to endure a lot more from the slavers than myself. How long does it take to mess up someone’s clothes like that? A week of ruthless running? Two?
After a few seconds, I conclude that there is really nothing else to do anyway – chained to a tree with the other prisoners as I am.
So I start my story, telling her everything about my life as the heir of the biggest whore-house in town. And about the curse that was cast on me by a perverted god! How I couldn't even leave the house without wrapping myself in a cloak like some mummy. My days of being hunted by hoards of morons because I messed up and spoke to a man.
I try to explain a life of being unable to have a normal conversation with the other gender. They would always get charmed by my eyes or my voice.
And how I made up my resolve to search for a cure to my curse and trained my ass off to be able to leave home. But I never found any clue about the gods who were involved in my curse, aside from the local deity from our city. But the deity didn't matter anyway. His meddling didn't affect me as much.
I made my resolve to travel and search around the world for answers. Just to find out that I was easy prey for a few slavers with ropes and sticks! I was lucky that they didn't rape me on the spot – though more than one of them used the chance to feel me up when they chained me.
When I am done, I look gloomily at the fire a few metres away, the bandits sitting around it.
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Aaah, it surely has to be warm there.
“You are a stupid little damsel, miss. To think that you lived your life like that until now is truly hilarious.” The little girl chuckles while blatantly insulting me.
“Whaaat?” I turn my attention to her and hiss, “How dare you to say something like that?” Didn't she listen to anything I told her?
“Miss, You lived your entire life without ever trying to control your powers – or using them to your own advantage. You just bathe in your own unluckiness while having your own little pity-party,” she explains with a smug expression.
I open my mouth, shocked. “Is that your wise advise?”
“Miss, after hearing your story, I have to say that all you did was complain about the gods. How the gods are unfair and cruel. But in fact, you got blessed by two gods and cursed by one. Two greater gods and one lesser are involved in your fate.” The girl tilts her head at me.
“Do... Do you know anything about this Angrod and Miruliru?” I try to crawl closer to the girl, but the chains stop me.
“Hmm. Let's see. Angrod is the god-king of the Realm of Chimera. Your soul seems to be under his jurisdiction. If I remember right, he is a very, very powerful being, although he isn't widely known because he normally doesn't concern himself with mortal beings. He is a god of Magic and Chaos.”
The girl takes a breath.
“Miruliru is a benevolent and nice goddess.” She winks at me. “She is wise and helpful and very kind. She is a goddess of Faith and Determination. You should thank her for placing those blessings on you, especially since they clearly countered some of Angrod’s curses.”
She tilts her head, thinking. “You must have done something very nasty in your previous life for Angrod to play with your soul like that, but Miruliru took pity on you and averted the worst, so your actions shouldn’t be irredeemable. Can you imagine your life if your mind had been male?” The little girl chuckles at me.
My mind froze when she started talking about the gods and it still isn’t working properly, but I somehow manage to ask my question. “Did your texts mention how I can get rid of the curse?”
The girl shakes her head. “Idiot. Didn't you listen? Angrod is a king among gods. A magical being beyond imagination and he apparently dabbled with your soul. I doubt that all the gods of this world together could take the curse off of you. Miruliru is a very strong god too and she could just help a little.”
I let my head fall. My hope is gone. My dreams and goals. All my work was futile…
And then the girl kicks me – again! “Ow!”
“Don't let your head fall – giving up that easily! Seriously! That's your problem! You just accept your abilities as curses, but you have to understand that they are more! They were given to you by a divine being and you got a list of them longer than most mortals can ever hope to achieve – aside from heroes! Use them! Don’t just accept them, learn to control them! Try it! Call one of those slave traders and tell him to loosen the chains and let us go!” She indicates with her chin towards the bandits.
“What are you saying? They would be idiots to do that.” I scoff. “There are so many ways this could go wrong. Haven’t you listened to my life story?”
The little girl snorts at me. “If your mind is locked in a cage and you are unwilling to leave, you may deserve your fate. Didn't one of your abilities give you the opportunity to change your fate? Use it! Use Angrod's power and make it your own! This so-called curse came from the king of gods! It is bound to be powerful!”
I take my time to think about it and then I decide to try it. Maybe she is right and I looked at this from the wrong direction. And let’s be honest; whether I get raped now or tomorrow doesn’t make a difference.
At least not much of a difference.
The girl is right that I am giving up too easily. I better play my cards while I still have a chance.
“~Hello? Guys?~” I call out, causing some of the bandits to perk their heads up. “~I am so alone here. Doesn't anyone of you want to come over here and talk?~”
Four of the slavers actually get up and come in our direction. Damn! I just needed one of them! Don't come here with all your friends!
“Look! The cutie is feeling lonely. Maybe we should entertain her a little?” A fat slaver already starts scratching his crotch while approaching us.
“No! I will take her alone! A fine girl like that isn't meant for fatsos like you.” Another slaver, skinny and with a wart on his nose, insults his colleague.
“Ah,” I try to insert myself into the conversation. “I wondered if I could do something for you and get a small favour in return.”
Another of the man leers at me, licking his lips. “You guys, this chick is wasted on you. You would just fuck her and be done with it. I would take my time.”
“Yeah,” the fourth nods his head. “You have to worship a lady like that – start by whispering a few sweet nothings into her rear end…”
I crinkle my nose, wondering if that last guy would actually be a decent partner if he had a little more finesse.
“What did you say?” The fat slaver shoves the others aside, clearly trying to be first in the row.
Men! They always just look at me with lust in their eyes.
I wet my lips and clear my throat, a little miffed that they are ignoring me to argue with each other, so I maybe put a little too much seduction into my next words, “~Uuum, no violence, peace – with a pretty please? I guess that if you brave men would prove me your worthiness, I could show you a little bit heaven? I like strong men!~”
“I will show you!” Suddenly Skinny’s irises dilate and he draws a dagger, slitting the Fatso's throat without so much as blinking an eye.
I watch in horror as the blood sprays everywhere in a wide arc. Me, the grass, the tree – even on one of the unluckier bandits as Fatso stumbles sideways, trying in a vain attempt to stop the flow of blood.
But Skinny must have hit an artery, leaving him no way of cutting off the flow of blood completely.
After about five seconds of shocked silence – while watching Fatso stumbling around like a headless chicken – the humongous man simply falls over with a thud, quite clearly dead.
I have never seen someone killed before, so I react like any sheltered woman would!
“~~~KYAAAA!~~~”
I scream in horror at the sight of the dead slaver.
Rallied by my distressed Siren’s Voice, all slavers at the fire jump up and rush over, wanting to assist the troubled female.
But before the rest arrives, the blowjob-guy stabs Skinny with his own knife from behind while the fourth draws his sword. The other slavers reach the combatants and try to stop the fight, but one thing leads to another as they pile against the fighting men – and a pile-up with long and pointy things is never good.
Take-my-time gets shoved from behind and somehow manages to accidentally sink his sword into blowjob-guy!
“~~~AAAAIIIIIIII!~~~”
I continue to scream with all my might and tears in my eyes as the casualties keep mounting!
Why are they doing this!?
Now completely enraged, the bandits start fighting with their lives on the line as insanity takes hold and a wild close quarters combat ensues with everyone against everyone! I don't even understand why they suddenly started to fight among each other after hearing my horrified voice.
Seconds later everything is over – a single remaining bandit standing among a field of corpses.
Right before he topples over onto his face, revealing a dagger sticking out of his back.
“Oh, gods! So much blood! Oh, gods! They killed each other!” I start rocking back and forth. “Why did they do that? They never did that before?” Is it my fault? Am I the cause for trying to put some power into my voice?
The other slaves only watched in silent horror as the scene unfolded before their eyes. What are they going to think of me? How lucky that they are women and that my power doesn’t work on children!
“I said you should call ‘one’ of them over,” the little girl comments, quite calm for the given situation. And then she screams at me, “Not start a fucking slaughterhouse!”
I shake my head while I look at her with a horrified expression on my face. “How should I know that this would happen!” I look back to the corpses which are lying so close to us, but still too far away! “How should we get the keys now!? Did I kill us?”
The little girl takes a deep sigh, closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Well. At least you finally saw what you are capable of. Maybe you will learn from this and start thinking of your powers in another light. Guiding mortals sure is rough. I will give you a little bonus since you are just a young – quite dumb – damsel in distress for now.”
Huh? Her voice and her aura changed?
I feel something heavy in the air and it's hard for me to breathe. It feels like something far bigger than me is all around me, pressing down on my very being.
The little girl stands up and her chains suddenly melt. The glowing metal flows off her skin like water and a cute dress instead of the rags appears on her. While humming a tune, she skips towards one of the corpses who I identify as the former leader of the bandit group.
She grabs a set of keys from his belt and throws them in front of me on the ground within easy reach. “Don't forget to offer some prayers to the gods from time to time. Especially towards me!” She pokes her thumb into her modest chest. “I will be mad otherwise! Helping someone twice without so much as a simple thanks isn't my style.”
I look up, but the little girl is gone.
“Miruliru?” I whisper.
As if to confirm my question, my handcuffs suddenly click open and fall to the ground.
“Smart mortal! Try to get a grip on your ‘blessings’ until we meet again.”