“Barracks?” Deckard asked where I was heading once we got off the teleportation platform and walked up the stairs to Labyrinth Square.

“Where else?” Did he even have to ask? He knew full well I was about to have a magic lesson with Aspen and no horned rabbit skin or meat to sell. 

“I’m coming with you, Little Beast.”

“To talk to Rayden?” If I had to guess, it would be about me.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “If she has time. But mostly to check on the girls and boys; see how they’re doing with our barefoot dare.”

My eyes inevitably fell to his and my dirty feet. Well, unlike his, mine were covered in dried blood. The price for my weakness. Should my skills be at higher levels, I wouldn’t bleed. Deckard’s training was one way to get them there, though. In this one day of log kicking, [Striving Mule] jumped a level, [Unbending Resilience] two, and [Wrought Hide] advanced three. Not much in the grand scheme of things.

But not every day could be like the day Idleaf woke up, where my life was on edge and world-shattering moments were happening with me in the middle of it all. I needed to build my strength on solid foundations. Something that, according to Deckard, should not be rushed, no matter what a star, miracle, or prodigy I was.

Honestly, I didn’t mind. Even though my goal was to get stronger so I wouldn’t have to worry, which hadn’t changed, it was nice that things seemed to calm down. Today, in particular, with all the hard training, was unusually peaceful. No beasts, no slavers, no mind mages threatening to imprison my mind, and no Idleaf.

Seriously, where was she? With Esudein or Zeewet? Was it envy that I felt? It couldn’t be.

As we reached the barracks, thoughts of her left me.

“Madam Grey!” saluted the gate guards, both with strange grins plastered on their faces. The reason wasn’t hard to guess and was quite obvious at first glance. Both gate guards were barefoot. Quite a surreal sight to see the man and woman otherwise clad in the armor of city guards without shoes.

“Freedom for the feet?” Deckard declared, and they both echoed his call, amused. After that, they let us in.

Inside the barracks where my mentor parted with me, I found almost every guard without their boots, giving me a strange knowing looks like they were on to the thing. Some, like Deckard, even called: “Freedom to the feet” when they saw me, whereupon I had no choice but to reply in kind. It was ridiculous, odd, and kind of funny.

The other thing that struck me was how many greeted me, far more than ever before, and the way they addressed me. So far, I’ve been nothing but Grey to them if they decided to address me at all. And honestly, I didn’t mind. When I was called that, it made me feel like I was treated no differently than anyone else.

Now, there were hardly any who called me that. It was either Miss Grey, Ms. Grey, or Madam Grey. Some even ventured to call me Lady Grey. Which I understood was a term of address used especially for women of breeding or higher class, a woman of authority, one with a noble title belonging to the Sahal aristocracy. Not for those of low status, like me.

The guys here called the women most often simply women, gals, lasses, or like Deckard girls when they thought she was young or wanted to flatter their youthful appearance. Ms, Miss, or madam then when they wanted to be polite. Skirt, love, sweetheart, or worse, when they didn’t. Not a lady.

That implied they regarded me as someone genteel, and even though the Imperial Chief Healer had warned me that the possibility of me being one would arise, I was worried about how the City Lord would react when word reached him of people calling me lady without my status being officially confirmed.

A worry for later, though.

“Hey, Korra,” Aspen greeted me as I stepped into the Training Hall, this time on time. Neither too late nor too early. “...or should I call you Guardian, like the others?” I knew what she was getting at. Outside of Miss, Ma’am, or Lady Grey, the most common address I heard from the city guards was Guardian. As weird as it sounded to be called like that, it was a title I had to get used to, though. Or at least it didn’t rub me the wrong way like Lady Grey.

“I’ll be glad if you keep calling me Korra.”

“Korra or Korra’leigh?” Aspen asked, the edge of teasing in her voice.

Actually, I was fine with either, so I shrugged. “I’ll leave that up to you.”

“Killjoy,” Aspen muttered, adjusting her collar. “Well, Korra, Idleaf’s not with you?” 

“You’ll be surprised, but no.”

She raised an eyebrow. “It sounds to me like you are both glad and missing her at the same time.”

Damn! Really? I did, didn’t I? “She’s...elsewhere.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to call her? She was a great help yesterday.”

True. She was. Her guidance of my mana had shown me the way that would otherwise take me days, weeks, and even months to find, let alone learn. Mana manipulation was something that took Aspen three years to master.

“Well, I’m not going to have her on my back all the time and need to learn to control the mana myself, to build a solid foundation.” I admit I drew heavily on what Deckard told me today. But thinking about it, was learning no matter what any different? Whether it was magic, martial arts, or cooking noodles, if one didn’t have a solid foundation, even noodles could be burned. I found it the hard way when I was making dinner one day back on Earth. It took me a few days to get the stench out of my apartment.

“Traiana’s tits, I had a whole speech prepared about how it’s not good to rush things. Especially not in magic, and now it seems all my efforts were for naught.” Even though Aspen tried to sound like that, I knew she wasn’t pissed. If anything, she was glad my success yesterday didn’t go to my head. She, too, seemed to get her mind around me learning mana manipulation in a few days and was determined to rein in both her and my enthusiasm.

“I would love to hear it.” I offered.

“It’s not that good.”

“Then why mention it?”

“Because I racked my brain with it.”

“So, you’re not giving me the speech?”

“Is it needed?

“I don’t think so. I’d love to hear it anyway.” I was simply curious about what she came up with.

“I, for one, am more curious to hear about what happened in Drunken Filly,” Aspen changed the topic, and even though she wasn’t as smooth with it as she thought, it made me look at her feet.

“You still have your boots on.” I know, kind of a stupid thing to say. It was so obvious. Still...Curiosity got the better of me. “You weren’t there last night?”

Aspen smirked, the gloom in her eyes. “I haven’t been in that tavern since I quit the Castiana City Guards. Actually, I haven’t been to any tavern since I got this,” she tugged at the collar around her neck. “I’m not allowed to leave the barracks.”

Understandably, Rayden wouldn’t just let her run around the city as she pleased after what she’d done. On the other hand... “That’s pretty harsh.”

Aspen shrugged, nodding. “It is what it is. Considering that I could have ended up in a slave market sold into the hands of some horny idiot or self-important bitch, I can’t complain too much. I could use a drink, though.”

“Sorry, there’s only gear and food in my storage.” Kind of sad, now that I thought about it. However, if the City Guards did not assign bottles of alcohol as a necessity for the survival of the guards, there was no chance of the shortfall changing anytime soon. My hoard has been too modest to afford to buy alcohol on my own.

“Shame.” Aspen shook her head, sounding like having at least one bottle was a must-have thing a girl needed to have on her. Well, everyone had their own priorities.

“It’s better to learn magic sober anyway,” she said at last, pointing to the ground, and launched into her prepared speech: “Sit your ass down and perk up your ears, Guardian...”

 

***

 

I left the barracks feeling happy and disappointed at the same time. The letdown was that I only got one level in [Mantle of Magic] during two hours of magic lessons. If I pushed further and used the skill more, I could definitely reach level ten with it, thus Tier II. Only as Aspen delivered in her speech and I was determined to do anyway, I consolidated what I had learned yesterday and barely used the skill at all.

On the plus side, [Heart of Magic] leveled up as well, and I was getting good at manipulating mana, at least by my standards. What’s more, I was allowed to use the barracks bathroom again, which I felt a little guilty about, and most importantly, they treated me to a proper dinner at the mess hall.

Like most of the city guards, I found the cook without shoes, but not pissed to see me - meaning I shouldn’t have to worry about one of them peeing in my food. Although it’s questionable whether I could tell if they did. How did the piss even taste? Well, it wasn’t something I was willing to test, so I just enjoyed the food.

With a full stomach, I then hit the city, my goal a bit more grounded as it was not bars and taverns but the library. I had my spirits high and hoped to catch Mr. Sandoval, the librarian, today finally. He couldn’t keep the library closed forever. At least, that’s what I thought and was telling myself to get rid of worries.

Still, I walked up the few steps leading to the library’s front door with my fingers crossed and bated breath. There was a good chance the door wouldn’t budge, just like the last two days. Then when I took the handle, and it moved under my hand when I pushed, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders: the library was open.

Concerns for the well-being of the librarian gave way to new worries, though. I walked in with a tight throat, not knowing what reaction to expect from Mr. Sandoval. Will he be happy to see me, or will I find his attitude towards me changed like so many? Seeing him afraid of me would be hard, but I would understand, or so I wanted to believe. So much had changed in the five days we hadn’t seen each other.

The library took my breath away, just like the first time I visited. It wasn’t its size, which was neither small nor too big, neither the style that resembled old libraries of Earth. What took my breath away yet again was the silence that reigned there.

“The sight of your astonished look will never tire, Miss Grey,” said the librarian. The old man peeked out from behind one of the bookcases not long after the door shut behind me. He was smiling under his long grey beard; his eyes shone with delight, and a little shaky voice carried the joy of seeing me. I was still welcome here.

“Mr. Sandoval, it’s great to see you,” I said as Sage wagged like crazy behind me.

“Likewise. It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it? I see you’ve changed a lot,” he said, still a little shakily, gesturing farther into the library. “Shall we sit under the windows?”

“Yes, please. I have so much to tell you.” I don’t know why, but he made me feel younger. Not like Idleaf, whose presence let youthful energy run through my veins, but it was more a kind of nostalgia that made me feel around him like a little girl talking to her grandfather.

[Librarian: lvl 77]

“I see you’ve leveled up again, Mr. Sandoval. Congratulations.”

The librarian chuckled, stopped, and turned to me. “Thank you, but I don’t think it’s necessary to accredit an old man to one level. Look at yourself. You were still a [Slave] the last time I saw you. Now, you are level 113. A little longer, and I’m afraid all I’ll see will be a question mark.”

True. A little more levels, and it would be so. 

“As I said, a lot has happened,” I said, awkwardly scratching the back of my neck.

“And I’ll be delighted to hear it,” he said with a smile, glanced somewhere behind me, and took a step once more toward the tables under the library windows. Those were pretty much as I remembered them. Sitting at the tables under the windows gave the impression that the library was at the foot of the mountains and not in the middle of a busy city.

“Wait!” It wasn’t nostalgia or serenity that hit me as I settled down; it was something he said. “You don’t see me as [Slave] anymore?”

His eyes flashed with sadness and apology. “I figured that with your level, you went through class evolution and didn’t choose any class from the slave tree. After all, I saw how much you hated what you were forced to be. But don’t despair. From what I know, it’s usually around level 120 when the system starts reflecting your new class.”

“If at all, right?” I said as I cooled down my zeal, remembering what the Imperial Chief Healer and Deckard had told me on the day of my class evolution. “It’s about which and how I use my skills.”

“Indeed. You don’t seem as lost as when you first came here.”

“Sorry, it’s just...most of the skills I have are from my new class...I simply wish others would stop seeing me as a slave.”

“Just give it more time. Besides, I think your class is the last thing on people’s minds when they see you.” There was tension in his voice, like he was too damn anxious to tell me something. But what? I couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew, that he knew about Idleaf and me. How could he, though? Unless someone told him about me, which I didn’t see as likely, or he didn’t see me walking through the city, he shouldn’t. Was that some kind of rumor he heard then? Some may have already spread through Castiana and especially the city’s underworld. The librarian didn’t strike me as someone to listen to them or visit those places, though. Was it my fading guardian marks he was hinting at then? Most likely. It was time to come clean.

But where to start?

“You see, Miss Grey...” “Mr. Sandoval, I...” We spoke at the same time and laughed awkwardly a breath later. 

“You first,” smiled the librarian, motioning for me to begin.

Me? I scratched the back of my neck, racking my brain. “I don’t know where to even start...”

Mr. Sandoval exhaled nervously. “How about if I get the tea? I find jartine particularly soothing. Then you can tell me about your Class Evolution.”

“That sounds wonderful...” It really did, whatever the jardine was.

By the time he returned with a tray of cups and a pot of hot jartine tea, I had my thoughts sorted. The tea came in handy nonetheless. It was lovely and pushed away the rest of the jitters I felt, as Mr. Sandoval said it would. In that relaxed mood, when I stopped sweating my ass off and the old man seemed to calm down too, I told him about how I got the Deviant of Humanity class.

The librarian found it quite peculiar that I chose that one, considering how I felt about my mutations. However, he was thrilled to hear that I had come to terms with them and accepted who I was.

“I went to see a friend of mine who owns the book Creatures of the Old World: Sand and Dunes by A.T. Sunglide. Quite a rare piece, which I thought might hold the secret to the mutation of your ears,” he said, eyeing the sails on my head while sipping his tea.

“You no longer think they might have originated in the fennec foxes?”

“No, I still do; that’s the best clue I have so far. However, in my search, I came across a reference that the fox species living in the former Terran Federation I was looking into has its roots in the southern deserts.”

“Oh...and do they?”

The librarian sipped his tea again, a bit of guilt in his eyes. “I haven’t gone through the whole book yet. It is quite extensive and detailed.” Sure, and he didn’t want to miss any of those. Sadly, that meant the origin of my ears had to remain a rough guess a little longer. Not that I mind. Although they were hard to get used to, and I still struggled with the noise, I learned to live with them to some extent. However, knowing where they came from would help me see if I should expect a surprise like with my mane.

When I told Mr. Sandoval about what happened to my hair under the pressure of battle and fire, he eagerly started taking notes, almost choking on his tea as I let my mane grow to the length of my body in front of him.

“May I?” He asked, hinting at touching my hair.

“Go ahead.”

“Curious. They really are chilly,” he gushed as he took one strand of hair into his palm. “This opens up new possibilities...maybe some beasts that live in the north. Their abilities often reflect the environment in which they live, how they’ve adapted to it...or it could also be some sort of coping mechanism for hot environments.”

“Like deserts and dunes?” I added to his loud musings.

He looked up from the hair he was stroking in his palms and smiled. “Why not? Maybe in the book I’m studying, I’ll eventually find the secret to both your ears and mane.”

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” 

“We’ve talked about this before, Miss Grey,” he stopped me before my thoughts could go any further. “I do it because I enjoy it. Now, even more than ever.”

His warm smile and the gleam of delight in his old eyes warmed my heart. He truly found passion in finding traces of my mutations in books. That enthusiasm of his was remarkable and what’s more I could see him eager to tell me more, probably about some other finding he made. Yet I had so much more to tell him, too.