Arrows of Desire 4.11

Pink and gold, the mirror-calm bay shone brightly as dawn crept over the horizon. Early. Too early. I had never been good at getting up in the morning, and it had usually taken me between three and five alarms to get out of bed for any shift or class that started before noon. The feline-like tendencies of my new body had only made things worse, and Nathan had needed to shake me awake to get me up at such an ungodly hour.

But the time had been chosen deliberately to avoid too much of a scene, and under the watchful eye of Laera and a handful of Guild members she trusted to act as guards the Caith prisoners filed out of the makeshift prison; something that had seen a surprising amount of use since it had been converted from an office to house the slavers.

I noted that Jalver was not amongst those that Laera had picked to act as guards. He had been rather vocal the night beforehand, in the Guildhall’s common room, about the need to ‘fight back’ against the Caith, and had gathered a sizeable number of angry and hurt men and women who felt similarly. Although Guildport had never been the most harmonious of places, with many dhampir members believing themselves superior to their beastkin colleagues, and with the tensions with Port Imperial, things felt… different now. The anger, the fear, it was raw and just a spark away from exploding.

The Caith had all been given rough-spun, brown woollen cloaks to disguise their identities, but their manacles still clinked loudly in the still morning air as they shuffled down the main street. Several of the early-to-rise merchants and shopkeepers peered out from their stalls and shops suspiciously, their eyes catching on green hands and wrists that poked out from a few of the cloaks.

A few darted away, and I saw Laera’s jaw flex.

“Faster!” she hissed at the shuffling Caith.

“If you removed our chains, we could go faster,” replied Itzcota, a young Caith woman who seemed to be viewed by the others as something of a leader, and had a reasonable grasp of Valorian.

We continued onward and just as we were just passing the massive well of the dungeon that dominated the centre of the town when I felt a few spikes of rage ahead of us, down in an area where many Guild members had set up tents on a field of mostly flat grass overlooking the now burnt dock.

“Laera, we have a problem,” I said, jerking my head at the encampment.

Laera looked over, cursing as the sound of shouting filtered up from the camp. Figures began to appear, led by a distinct, very tall dhampir man with a shaved head: Jalver, and, walking next to him, Velevir.

For the most part, the dozen or so adventurers weren’t wearing their armour: Jalver was in a long nightgown that seemed to be pretty normal for men to wear here, but would have been regarded as feminine on Earth; and Velevir looked like she had been fishing, with a rod over one shoulder, and just a dagger at her belt.

Still, even only lightly armed, they were all very dangerous people, all with access to magic or superhuman strength, or both in the case of Velevir. Their auras shimmered with red anger and pale green disbelief, not a great combination.

“Laera, what exactly is going on here?” said Jalver, striding towards the group.

“Nothing that concerns you,” said Laera. “Go back to bed, Jalver.”

“You’re- you’re letting them go!?” he said, gesturing at the some dozen or so Caith. “These fucking murderers!?”

“I am protecting this town,” said Laera.

“By giving the enemy detailed information about the layout of Guildport? Our defences? Our numbers?” said Jalver. He turned towards me and gestured. “That fucking doctor has gotten into your head, hasn’t she?”

“They, please,” I said, before holding up my Guild Insignia, which had a large black mark at its centre. “And if I wield so much influence over Laera, why do I have this?”

“Go back to your tents, all of you,”  said Laera. “We do not have the means to hold prisoners indefinitely, and I am not an executioner. And, yes, it was Charlie’s suggestion — but its also the only one that might stop this situation spiralling even further out of hand.”

“If you don’t have the resolve then-”

“This is not a discussion, and this is not a democracy: the Charter makes it clear that I have discretion in matters of branch security; so if you have a problem with me, take it up with the Board,” snapped Laera, her eyes beginning to glow faintly, and a few of her pink hairs swirling around her head with a faint flicker of flame. “Go back to bed. Now!”

“Make me,” said Jalver, crossing his arms.

“Don’t think I won’t,” said Laera, her eyes burning more strongly. “I’ve fucking had it with you undermining my authority.”

Jalver hocked and spat on the ground. “Tabbz will be rolling in her grave, seeing you lining up with her murderers.”

Even behind the shield of iridescence that usually obscured Laera’s feelings, the surge of searing crimson rage lined with granite grey grief was strong enough that it leaked through. Her hands balled into fists, her hair ignited into a halo of pink flame, and several of the Guild members blocking our way took half-steps back in fear.

Although she rarely delved, the one time she had she'd gone with Tabbeeza, Jalver, and two other Silver ranks, with the aid of maps they had blitzed through the first, and then second floors in less than nine hours. I had overheard plenty of conversations about how famous an adventurer Laera had been before her quasi-retirement, and how she had held the breach in the wall almost single-handedly during the Caith’s attack.

Laera was scary, and it suddenly occurred to me that was probably why she had been picked to lead the first self-governing branch out in the 'frontier wilderness;' she needed to be able to cow other people who were supernaturally strong in the event that they decided not to listen to her words.

“Don’t you dare abuse her memory like that!” said Laera. “Don’t you dare suggest I didn’t love her just as much as you just because I am not blinded by thoughts of revenge! Charlie is fucking insufferable, but this time they’re right! This has to end! We cannot let this get out of control or Tabbz’s sacrifice won’t mean anything!”

“Coward,” said Jalver. “You’re nothing but a fucking coward.”

“Get him out of here,” said Laera, gesturing to two Iron rank beastkin adventurers, a man and a woman who both had serpentine eyes and large fangs, and who looked enough alike they might have been brother and sister. "Before I do something intemperate."

The pair glanced at one another, before stepping forward and grabbing Jalver. He scowled, and for a moment I thought he might fight. But then he huffed, and but didn’t resist as they led him away.

“This isn’t over!” he called back. “I’ll get the Board involved! I’ll have you removed!”

Laera turned away and closed her eyes as the crowd began to slowly disperse. There were a few angry shouts directed at her, and the rage was just as potent as when they’d arrived, but thankfully it hadn’t exploded into violence. This time, at least. The situation was clearly not resolved.

Velevir was one of the few who loitered, looking and feeling conflicted. I could feel her anger and grief, but also worry directed towards Nathan and I. One of the Guild members acting as a guard made to move her on, but I waved them off.

“You’re both… going into the jungle?” said Velevir, looking at our bags.

“Yes,” I said. “We might be a little while, maybe a week or so. Sorry we didn’t tell you, Laera wanted us to keep it a secret.”

“They killed our friends,” said Velevir, gesturing at the Caith. “You trust them not to knife you in your sleep?”

“They seem to, like, respect Outlanders or something,” said Nathan, somewhat articulately. “And Chezza doesn’t sense them lying.” He clapped me on the back, hard. I stumbled slightly. “They say we’re good, I trust ‘em.”

“I don’t think they’ll betray us,” I said. “They seem at least a little interested in making some kind of deal.”

“You think you can trust savages?” said Velevir.

“I don’t think they’re ‘savages,’” I replied, trying not to let my irritation show at the language she was using. “I think they’re people. People we can reason with.”

“They live in… mud huts,” said Velevir, wrinkling her nose. “I’ve heard they eat people.”

“The Merfolk have never mentioned that; they’ve had a pretty positive relationship with them in the past,” I said. “That sounds like propaganda to me.”

“Goddess, your naive, Charlie,” said Velevir. She shook her head and turned to Nathan. “We’re just letting them go? After everything they did?”

Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. “What, we gonna just execute ‘em?” he said. “We ain’t got a proper prison, or, you know, a court and stuff.”

“They’d do it to us,” said Velevir darkly. “They came here to kill us.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t seem a good reason to kill someone,” he said.

Velevir stared at him in shock; I stared at him in shock.

“Like, just cause someone’s a dick, doesn’t mean you should be one too,” said Nathan. “Yeah? If Charlie’s right, if we can stop this fighting… then that’s more important, isn’t it?”

I pinched myself. Was Nathan making an argument against retributive justice. Was this a dream? Was I high? What was going on? Surely I hadn’t rubbed off on him that much?

Velevir sighed heavily, and seemed to accept defeat. “I don’t know… just be safe, OK? That jungle is dangerous, even with a healer as good as Charlie. I don't want you getting hurt.”

Nathan stepped forward and, in a surprisingly tender movement, hugged her. I pinched myself again; reality remained stubbornly the same. “We’ll be back,” he said. “Just a few days, yeah? Someone’s gotta watch Chezza’s back out there.”

Velevir pushed herself onto her toes and gave him a surprisingly passionate kiss.

Nathan reciprocated, his emotions radiating such deep affection and attraction that it made me turn away, embarrassed and feeling like a voyeur. Sometimes I really wished it was easier to tune the emotions of other people out; I lived in what was essentially a boarding house where every single room was well within range of my empathic senses—sometimes it was difficult to fall asleep with all the distraction going on.

“Be careful,” said Velevir when they broke apart.

“Yeah, no worries, I’ve got this,” said Nathan,

“You too Charlie,” said Velevir, giving me a hug.

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A.N. I kind of forgot it was Thursday, what with it being Christmas and all. Sorry for the delay, and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it.

This is released four chapters ahead on my Patreon, and updates Thursdays.

I also have a finished fantasy novel that can be read on Scribblehub, Shattered Moon, and an episodic space-fantasy/horror/doctor-who-esque series, Mishka the Great and Powerful, that updates every Saturday, and Marci of the Dreadfort that will be coming to Scribblehub soon!

I also have the eBook of my first novel available on Kobo, Amazon, and my Patreon!