Arrows of Desire 4.12

The jungle of Rorrovia, or ‘the Homeland’ as the Caith simply called it, was a strange, wild, and magical place. Beyond my trips to Port Imperial and Laemist, I had never really interacted with the nature of Alaria. It had been the strange, slightly fearsome looking sprawl of greenery that extended beyond the wall of the settlement. A great, psychologically infinite unknown realm full of strange sounds that I would listen to sometimes late at night through my open windows while writing in my journal, putting together basic books on things like germ theory, or reading my books on magic.

In some ways, it looked similar to Earth jungles that I’d seen in media: a world of explosive vegetation, with thousands of different plants covering the densely packed forest floor, winding their way up the tall, verdant trees, and even hanging from the canopy far above. After Guildport with its browns and whites and blue of the sky above, it was all so overwhelmingly green.

There were also, however, things that marked it as clearly alien: large, carnivorous plants that watched us with beady black eyes from halfway up the trees; circles of mushrooms I was advised in no uncertain terms to stay away from; a large, two headed panther-like predator with a scorpion tail which I sensed coming and the Caith saw off with a cacophony of loud noises and bangs; and a calm, beautiful, tranquil waterfall and splash pool that looked so inviting but when I turned away to show Nathan had vanished when I looked again.

The small group of Caith I was with moved effortlessly through the scrub, wending their way along unseen paths and moving with supreme confidence in their direction. Personally, I’d lost track of where we were heading as soon as I’d gotten too far away to sense the outskirts of Guildport behind us, and I made significantly heavier going, despite the fact I was now stronger than most of the Caith.

Itzcota, a towering, but somewhat lithe Caith woman who looked to be roughly around my own age had taken it upon herself to make sure I didn’t ‘fall behind,’ and although I wasn’t as much of a clutz as I’d once been, I’d relied on her steady arm several times when balancing on logs across fast flowing rivers, or scrambling up slippery and rocky slopes. She had elaborate, braided hair that was gathered up in a ponytail behind her head, was wearing a loose tunic, tough, rough spun linen trousers, and intricate woven leather sandals. She also several tattoos on her chest, arms, and legs which might have had some kind of cultural or spiritual significance, or, else, she just though looked cool. They did.

“Thanks,” I said as I took her hand and jumped down off a log onto the bank of a one of the larger rivers we had crossed, where the others seemed to be stopping for some kind of break.

Two great, plant-covered bluffs rose up around us, and I could see several very large birds circling in the blue sky above. It was somewhere in the mid afternoon, and hot, although I’d more or less acclimatised to that, and seemed to be sweating less than several of the Caith. Not Itzcota, however.

I knew there had been spellcasters amongst the Caith, those with mana cores like adventurers, like me; perhaps Itzcota was one such person? Was that a potential way to defuse this conflict? To get Caith to start joining the Guild…?

“Here,” said Itzcota, handing me a hunk of hard, slightly sour bread which had some kind of spiced meat baked into it. It clearly wasn’t that fresh, but tasted good enough.

“Thanks,” I said again. “And thank-you for showing Nathan and I to your, um, camp? Town? I really hope we can come to some kind of long term peace.”

“You are the reason this ‘Guild’ is negotiating, yes?” said Itzcota, raising a dark eyebrow.

She was a remarkably centred person, with emotions that were, for the most part, calm blue, with only the occasional streak of nervous lime. Interestingly, although she clearly regarded me as strange, neither she, nor any of the other Caith had had the slightest bit of hatred or revulsion for me since they’d learned I was an Outlander. They’d had plenty for other people back in Guildport that morning, but none for me or Nathan.

“I suggested it, yes,” I said. “Although Laera agreed. She isn’t a bad person, she’s pragmatic but fair, mostly.”

“Why is it so important to you though?” said Itzcota.

“You mean apart from not wanting the only place I know in this world to become a warzone?” I said.

Itzcota hummed, which after a few moments I realised was probably supposed to signify agreement or concession.

“My world went through something very similar to this,” I said, gesturing around vaguely. “And the people in your shoes… it wasn’t good for them. They got enslaved, killed or driven out, mostly. I don’t want that to happen to you. To anyone.”

“Perhaps here it will be different,” said Itzcota. “We are not ‘primitive,’ no matter what the red-eyes say.”

“Your magic certainly might even the playing field,” I agreed carefully.

“But?” said Itzcota.

“But the dhampir, they’re organised, and there is so much money for them to make here,” I said. “The Mercian empire, it’s massive from the maps I’ve seen. Your tribe, or community, how many people are in it?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I am not going to tell you that.”

Oh. Right. We were technically at war, weren’t we?

"OK, well, the dhampir have got millions of citizens,” I said. “And they’re all unified under one government. Even with your magic, even on your home turf… long term, those don’t seem like good odds to me.”

Itzcota nodded slowly, tearing off another chunk of bread from her bag and handing it to me. “Uncle talks about the need to make alliances with the other tribes,” she said. “To focus on our common foe—the red-eyes.”

“That might help too,” I said. “But can't you see it would benefit you if Guildport wasn’t your foe as well? If we could work something out? Port Imperial’s entire existence is based on taking more and more of your land to build an ever greater number of plantations, but Guildport is just interested in the dungeon. I know they didn’t ask you to use it, and I know that was wrong, but maybe we can make it right? Maybe it can be… I don’t know, both a Guild town, and a Caith town? Some of your people could even join the Guild? Take part in delving the dungeon? Some kind of… council, with Caith and non-Caith on it to work out disputes fairly? Paying you to use the land… I don’t know. There has to be a way we don’t have to fight, that we can live together without bloodshed.”

Itzcota nodded slowly, before standing. “If that is possible, I would also like that future,” she said. Her aura bloomed with friendly green, although her face remained mostly passive. I hadn’t actually observed any of the Caith smiling before, perhaps it wasn’t a real thing in their culture? “Thank-you, Charlie, you have given me much to think about.”

She wandered off to talk to the others, perhaps about what I said, and Nathan took that as an opportunity to sit down next to me and offer me a wineskin.

“Hey Chezza," said Nathan. "Doing OK?"

“‘Chezza? Why do you keep calling me that?’” I said, accepting it and taking a sip of some kind of watered-down spirit. “Ugh, that’s foul.”

“Pretty rough, yeah,” he laughed, taking it back. “And yeah, it’s an Aussie thing to give your mates nicknames: Charlie, Chezza. You don't get to choose, sorry mate.”

I rolled my eyes, but wasn’t able to keep a smile off my face. Nathan had… well, he wasn’t as insufferable as he’d been before. And all of the off-white disgust that had tinged his emotional aura when he’d been addressing me was gone, so he didn’t seem to be queerphobic anymore — or, at least, not towards me.

“Got a question for ya,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow.

“So, Vel and I…”

“I’m an empath Nathan, I knew before either of you did,” I said. “Also, you snogged in front of me.”

“Oh, right, ‘course,” he said, his green cheeks darkening up a little bit. “Well, I know you ain’t a chick, but you’re good at sensitive stuff, at dealing with people. I want to… I don’t know, get her something? A gift. It’ll be a month soon. Girls like that shit, yeah?”

“People in general usually like gifts, yes,” I said. “But I don’t actually know anything about the cultural norms of dhampir dating. Their society isn’t like ours; it might mean something you don't expect. You’re probably better off asking her if there is anything she expects or wants directly. Communication is central to any relationship-” Something I was also shit at. “-and even more important when you’re involved with someone from a radically different culture.”

“Huh, guess so,” he said, scratching his dark stubble.

“Velevir will probably appreciate a gift though,” I said. I thought for a moment. “Probably something practical. Or fishing related? I think she likes fishing? You like that too, right? It could be something you share. Or maybe a romance novel? She loves those. Although you’d have to get a new one, I think she has lots.”

“Yeah-nah, I was thinking of maybe getting something enchanted?” he said. “I was talking to Hannar, she reckoned she could do a vambrace that did like a projection of the time? Like a fancy watch? She's always taking ages to fish out her pocket-watch when we're in the dungeon.”

“Sounds like you don’t need me after all,” I said.

Nathan shifted nervously. “Never had a girlfriend before,” he said. “Don’t want to fuck it up. I want to be a good bloke, you know?”

“Just talk to her about how you feel, and be honest, and I’m sure things will be fine,” I said. “She’s into you. No idea why.”

Nathan clapped me on the back hard enough that even as a mana-reinforced adventurer I winced. “Thanks, Chezza, owe you one.”

He made to move off, before frowning and hesitating. I felt a surge of green nervousness and a hint of peach shame flicker through his aura, followed by annoyed brown a moment later when I arched my eyebrow and he realised that I’d sensed it.

“I’ve, uh, I’ve been sort of meaning to say this for a while, but… never, you know, found a good time,” he said. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, and some seconds crawled by as he searched for his words. “I was… I was a cunt to you, when we got here. Said stuff that…” He cleared his throat again. “Stuff that must have hurt. I didn’t know-” He stopped himself; his brow furrowed. “Nah, that’s bullshit, I did know it would hurt. But I- I thought you… deserved it or something. I’d never met someone like you before, a non-binary, you know; I’d just- just watched some shit online…”

He laughed uneasily and rubbed his hands together nervously. His aura was almost entirely lime green nerves by this point, whereas mine was… I was just shocked. Nathan was apologising to me? First he wasn’t acting like a bloodthirsty chud, and now he was apologising? What was happening? Had he been secretly replaced by a body-snatcher? This was a fantasy world, that had to be a possibility.

“It was all fucking dumb though—nasty. I’ve been… you know, thinking about what you said to me, back after I hauled you out of the dungeon; when you get messed up bad,” he said. “And I think- I think I get, at least a little, what you mean by ‘dysphoria.’ I get it sometimes when someone has a go at me for being Caith — I think, anyway…” He cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry dickheads like me give you shit for just being who you are. That sucks. I hope you’re happier as you are now.”

“I, uh, I am,” I said, totally thrown by how genuine he was being.

“Awesome,” he said, tapping his hands against his leg. I could sense that he wasn’t quite done though. “Anyway, I just wanted to say sorry, yeah? You’re a great mate, and you didn’t deserve that shit I said. No one does, not for just being themselves, right? I regret it now.

"I don’t want to be that bloke anymore; I don’t want to be cruel. Coming here, meeting Vel and you, even that little psycho Mousington, it's the best thing that ever happened to me. Anyway, I hope you can forgive me, and… and if you can’t, I get it, and I’m still sorry.”

This had not been what I was expecting. It was one thing to stop being such an arse, it was another thing to try and own it, to apologise. I really hadn’t thought he had that in him. Sure, I believed academically that all people had the capacity to change, to grow beyond themselves, but I’d been disappointed so many times that I guess I’d never really believed it in my heart.

But here was a guy who’d been misogynistic, racist, and transphobic to a frankly comical degree, positively oozing machismo, and yet he was… apologising. Earnestly apologising; trying to make amends; showing that he had grown; being vulnerable in a way that I would have never thought him capable.

The cynical part of my mind wondered if it was just because he had a girlfriend who could throw him through a brick wall now, but the optimist in me, the tired, battered, and beleaguered thing that it was, pushed back on that hard. That wasn’t fair.

Velevir had probably helped, but he’d still gone away and thought about the stuff I had said, reflected on it, realised that you didn’t have to be like that. That you could be kinder, gentler, and that that wasn’t weakness, didn't make you 'less of a man'—whatever the fuck that meant anyway. I was sure there were still a whole lot of rough edges he’d still need to work on, but we all had those, and the fact that he was willing to apologise for what he had said was a bigger step than I’d ever expected him to take.

I sniffed, and realised I was crying.

“Fuck, sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to-”

I reached over and hugged him. He tensed, but then wrapped his arms around me and hugged me back, relief flooding his aura.

“You were shit to me,” I said.

“Yeah, I was,” he agreed.

“But thank-you, this means more than you know.”

“Huh?” he said.

"I want to believe people can change; that the world can be better than it was yesterday,” I said, letting him go and taking off my glasses to wipe my eyes. “I’ve got to. So thank-you; and I forgive you, Nathan.”

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A.N. 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!