Born a Monster

Chapter 65

Alves

It was in elvish, of course. A language I didn’t read. I set it beneath the pillow, and let the world fade into the background.

I don’t even recall what I said to Black Snake when she woke me to report the mice were safe. I woke to find a point of Death mana missing from my pools.

Had I given that up willingly? I mean, I must have, by the terms of the new Pact. But – why?

There was a crinkling under my pillow. Right, the response.

.....

I got up to look for Cosimo, or perhaps Reynald. Nobody was attending the infirmary. That was odd.

In fact, I couldn’t find the day guards, either.

Tangars. Surely, Tangars was –

Tangars was not in evidence. The quartermaster’s room was in disarray, and blood seemed to be everywhere. There were even spots of dried blood on the ceiling.

Trapped in a circle of salt, a transparent woman of pale demeanor hovered just above the floor.

She saw me, attempted to lunge. “Tangars! Traitor!” she howled.

“So bad things happen to bad people as well.” I said.

“I’ll tear you limb from limb!”

“Good luck with that.”

“Don’t you turn your back on me! Tangars, I will kill you! TANGARS!”

Okay, so everyone else was out giving Tangars a funeral. Every external door seemed locked, and I had no key. I cooked myself a breakfast, and had time to clean up after myself.

Then I drowsed outside the door to Reynald’s office, the letter in my hands.

Cosimo kicked me awake. “I’m wrong!” He called out. “He’s alive!”

“Lord Cosimo? Do we have a translator of the elvish language?”

“Translator? Go look in the shrines.”

“Thank you, Lord Cosimo.”

“Where are you going? You look like you’re barely conscious.”

“I ought to have had enough rest to get to the temple of the sun.”

“Which Sandru has approved?”

“He hasn’t forbidden it, and time is of the essence.”

Cosimo shook his head. “If you were this diligent in paying back what you owe, you’d be free by now.”

Not all truths need to be spoken, and I didn’t want to spend time arguing with Cosimo.

It seemed so much further to the shrine; I had to rest three times, the last just across the street.

“I do not need to see the Hellene, unless she can translate elvish.”

“I don’t think anyone here can translate that tongue, but let me check.”

Oddly, it was the priestess of Magda Morrigan, in the shrine of war, who could.

“Ah, the alves. Children of the Fae, some say the truest children.”

I showed her the letter. She turned her head and spat.

“Low alvish. Perhaps meant as an insult.”

“I’m not insulted; I didn’t know there were different types of elvish.”

“Alvish. The proper term is alvish.”

“The First Fae predate the First Men, do they not?”

“Before the discovery of agriculture, the true Fae walked this earth. Then came civilization.” She turned her head and spat. “Anyway, three silver. One for each paragraph.”

I handed over the coin.

“Are you trying to insult me?”

“I am too tired to attempt any such thing.”

#

Well, she gave me a list of everything she had to do, and I compared what I had going on. Physically, I was obviously worse off, and she had the edge in sanity and serenity loss. It really isn’t my place to say what all she had going on, but – if you think your local priest or priestess just sits in their shrine all day sipping on tea, you are probably wrong.

Incidentally, this took us until dinner. Which I paid for, as part of the negotiations for the actual price of the translation.

When we finally finished, she said “I’ll have it translated tomorrow morning.”

I squinted at her. “I think you have it translated already.”

“And I think we both need a good night’s sleep. Don’t you agree?”

“How would I agree if I were an alf?”

“You’d waggle your ears.”

We both had a chuckle at that.

“I will see you tomorrow, then.”

MOST TRUTHFUL RHISHISIKK,

LET US DISCUSS THIS IN PERSON

WE AWAIT YOUR PLEASURE IN GREYWOOD

LARALATHLA, OF THE HOUSE OF ARCHERS

They used more and flowery words, but that’s the gist of it.

I almost clawed my own eyes out. That would delay us further!

“This is a favorable response, and you should accept the invitation.”

“What should I know about alvish culture?”

“Well, how much is it worth to you?”

Breakfast and some pocket change got me what I hoped was enough to not be executed for offending the wrong alf.

Then I had nothing to do but check with Amendae, and wait for Katherine. Oh, Gods, what could I do with spare time?

I was too wounded to risk training. My physical health was orange, and my serenity in the yellow. For once, sanity was a nice healthy green, in spite of the pain.

So, nothing physical or magical. Mental, then. Possibly academic, for the Scientific classes? No, I couldn’t focus enough.

I had all of two... okay, four development points. Wait, hadn’t I just spent all but two of them? Where had the others come from? Could I get more?

[Crafting class almost available for development: Carpenter, 81/100 XP to level 1. Focus on this message to learn how to unlock class, and earn 10 development points.]

And increase my divisor? No thanks.

The barrier I kept running up against was that my System didn’t keep logs of its messages. If I weren’t paying attention, such as when I was truly asleep, the message was just lost.

There were all kinds of things available – for development points – that would make the System easier to use. Ugh.

So I spent much of that day just exploring my System, and trying to figure out what it had done so that I survived having a sword thrust through my intestines.

Trying, not succeeding.

#

The next day, Florentia de Lys arrived from Whitehill to re-make the mystic ward around the guildhall. Raisa and I were among the six chosen to donate our mana to the new ward. After 29 mana points were converted, it came to three points of Five Elements Arcane mana, one point of Divine Heavens Faith, and eleven points of leftover mana.

So... yeah... Anyone thinking I was some sort of magical powerhouse, there’s your wake-up call. There were those able to contribute less, and those like Raisa whose contributions made mine look pathetic. All told, it was still barely enough to erect a basic barrier wall conjoined to the walls, windows, and doors of the guildhall.

It was nothing like what we used to have – and that got torn down by something more powerful than just Tangar’s dead wife. Who, incidentally, was still hanging around behind the counter in the quartermaster room, screaming and howling if the clerks there ever made a difference between what was said and what was recorded in their books.

I heard that as payment, she was allowed to drain the life from birds and small animals purchased in the marketplace to sustain her un-life. I know she would suck life from any of us, leaving behind only a dry husk. Still, it was hard not to feel bad for someone else who just wanted to live, and had to spend all their wages and then more just for the food they had to consume.

Every two days, I could donate another round of refined (also called second-tier) mana. I got to contribute two rounds and mostly heal before a lad from the inn came by to demand I pay for Katherine’s rooms.

.....

“I’ll be by the inn later to pay for her stay for several weeks.”

Oh, and my Maternal Biomass Loan was down to 2471/2471, still with the reminder that it was going away when it was paid off. So if I kept eating the way I was, I might be done with it sometime next year. Yeah... that wasn’t going to happen on the road.

“No, I’m not staying here and greeting people while you go off to enjoy elven hospitality.” Katherine said. “I’m going to get to tell my children what elves actually live like.”

I made pointless objections, which were proven false one at a time.

“Fine, but we’re walking.”

“Not while you’re still wounded, we’re not.”

And I did manage to avoid a cart, but our compromise was Dempsey, a mule who ate more foliage than I did, and insisted only on dried grass. (But not dried fruits, vegetables, or nuts.)

I left letters behind at the inn, the Guild, and with Amendae. No matter where anyone looked for me, I wanted them to find information rather than to think they were being abandoned.

In retrospect, paying scribes a copper to copy your letters for you probably saved a lot of mental stress.

The six day journey took us most of eight; I was getting tired of treating Katherine’s blisters, and she was frustrated with the rough callouses forming on her feet.

We came to a line of human skulls, mounted on the end of poles.

“Charming.” Katherine said.

#

The skulls where we met them all faced to the right, so we moved that way along the border until we came to a place where two skulls faced each other. We set up camp there.

The forage was plentiful, and included such hauls as small lemons and several doses of mint leaves.

Fruits, nuts, grains, vegetables, fungus – each serving of stew that night was worth twenty points of nutrition.

“By the gods, that’s foul stuff, but I swear I can’t stop eating it.”

“Feel free to have the other two servings.” I said.

“Ah, maybe later.”

“Might I have some?” asked a passing mink. “It smells delicious.”

So we spooned a serving into a bowl, and then the other one.

“Most generous, and many thanks.”

“May the wisps light your path.” I responded.

“Oh, I’m not leaving just yet. At the very least, I owe you some questions for such a small fortune in food.”

I washed pots while Katherine asked questions. Things I already knew about – Aware animals, basic alvish greetings, sayings, and customs that Katherine wanted to know.

I don’t know why she just didn’t ask me, but it hurt my feelings more than I wanted to admit.

Maybe she didn’t know that I already knew these things?

Anyway, we all had time to digest, and Dempsey got as much of an extra portion of oats as he’d eat. The rest went into a pile twenty paces upwind of the camp, topped with a piece of broken honeycomb.

I staked Dempsey out so that he couldn’t cross the border, but with plenty of slack to reach a bush with tasty-looking berries nearby.

And then, bloated with food, we set out our cots and bedrolls and fell into-

“I want to talk to my kids tonight.” Katherine said.

With Black Snake serving as her anchor, I invoked the rituals to get her into the same dream region as her kids. It was Rainbow River tonight, and both of us got Yellow stuck to our dream-shoes before we found the proper balance for the raft.

But with Black Snake to pull her out, Katherine was safe enough, and I could... zzzzzzzzz

When I swatted at the bug trying to creep up my nostril, I discovered it was the point of a spear.

“Aha! It’s awake! Admit you are a kobold, so I can watch Danielle eat twenty unripe berries.”

“Sorry, not a kobold.”

“Lies!”

“Protean Shapeshifter.” I said.

“See? NOT a kobold. That’s five fat, wriggling worms for you, Pippin.”

“Please stop thrusting your spear toward my eyes.” I said, sitting up.

There are many different breeds of alf. These were a shorter breed, perhaps two apples taller than a goblin, with their ears swept backward and apparently not mobile.

I produced my letter. “Please take us to Laralathla, of the house of Archers.”

#