Chapter 30 Grasping for Straws
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“I need more information, what should I expect from this ‘Divine Ritual’, what options do we still have?” I muttered to the reclining wermage while pacing back and forth across the room.

We’ve spent no time talking on our way, Domina was unlikely to talk about sensitive matters even with the protection of a silence spell, and I was still in a daze back then.

She frowned at the way that I spat the name but sighed in response, “It is good that you are focusing on the task at hand, I expected you to lash out-”

“My Domina,” I interrupted her, “Aikerim. Can we not spend the time showering each other with praise? Feel free to punish me later for my ‘brazenness’ but your time is precious and mine is running out. My family is at a stake and I barely know anything about this event, to begin with.”

She didn’t look particularly happy with my cutoff but nodded nevertheless, “This is a Divine Ritual of Gratitude,”

I've read about it in one of the books given to me. One of the wermage-centric holidays of sorts. Wer and murks had yearly festivals. The onset of Spring and the Last Harvest celebrated the beginning and an end of the farming season, The Longest Day and Longest Night marked the solstices and told us of the coming change.

Wermage's most common festivities were at least ten years apart, many even longer than that. The last Ritual of Gratitude was held before my mother and her brother were born. The next one should’ve been in twelve years or so. Instead of the fifty-five days it was right now.

Correctly understanding my frown, Aikerim continued, “I was first informed of the upcoming change a few tendays ago, right after your visit to the Primary Manor. Kiymetl had been pushing for this and few other dates back then, myself included, but our attempts had been fruitless. Even soap didn’t help. By today, I had no expectations that it would actually happen on this particular date.” She frowned, “This is indeed too soon, there will be a lot of commotion.”

I rubbed my itching forehead, “So that explains why she would choose it. The commotion could help us, since I am the only one who knows how my family looks. But it might also hinder us, and I don’t like the fact that she chose Chimgen that easily. I’ve made no mentions of this to Albin nor anyone else for that matter. Why would she know so much?”

Domina didn’t flinch from my gaze, “I made sure that Sulla would be discreet in his enquiries. If she somehow knew about my interests through him, they would amount to nothing more that I haven’t said during the bath.”

“Was it prudent to reveal your weakness so quickly? What if she was just fishing for the best candidate to hurt your standing?”

“She wasn’t. You’ve heard her say that the decision was already chosen. While she has the power to state the decision, once the statement is made it is beyond her to stop it. And the reason I spoke out is exactly to help our chances.” Aikerim looked at me with a glint in her eyes, “By revealing my ‘weakness’, as you said, I employed all seven Pillar Manors into helping you to buy your family out. Rituals are sacred, but having seven most influential Houses secretly vying for the safety of your family would definitely improve the luck on your side.”

I closed my open mouth, “That I did not realize, you have my thanks. They would try to fleece you for many concessions however if they somehow managed to grab my family.”

She waved me off, “They would be surprised by how much I would be willing to pay for a few farmer slaves.”

“And if Shebet offers more?”

“Then they might be informed by a new ‘discovery’ by the Kiymetl Alchemist. A discovery that might threaten their ability to prosper. Or, if we feel grateful, a discovery that could help them instead.”

I sighed and plopped myself into a sofa. But the feeling of relief still didn’t come. Things were being done and measures were being taken, but all I could do was sit and wait.

And I hated it.

“Will that be enough?” I asked quietly, hoping to placate my sense of unease.

Aikerim sighed, “The slaves that are gifted to the Gods are few in number and are usually young. They are often younger than you. But I will not lie and say that there is no chance for them to be picked. There is also very little one could do in these circumstances, unless one dares to incur the wrath of the Gods. And gain nothing in return.”

I gritted my teeth in frustration as she continued, “Any movements or any attempts to interfere with the festival would be noticed, believe my words for they are more than true. If not immediately, then sometime after. And will be dealt with accordingly. There were Manors in the past that are no more than names in the scrolls, both large and small alike. You do not want to be seen as the one opposing the Gods. I do not want to be seen as the one opposing the Gods. The best course of action is to let the Divine Ritual happen and be ready to strike as soon as it is over.”

I lied there in silence, my eyes staring without focus at the beams of the ceiling. Aikerim observed me quietly, allowing me the time and quiet to compose myself. But the room itself loomed down over me. The omnipresent runes stared back at me. Dull marks of wermage presence. Their patterns felt as if they were carved on my skin, foretelling my fate. And the fate of my family.

“I need time to think.” I eventually gave up on trying to find the perfect solution on the spot, “I agree with you that doing anything rash would be monumentally stupid, but I can’t sit and do nothing either. I will head out to the Alchemy building in the meantime. Even if I can’t come up with anything worthwhile at least I will deal with the snake issue as fast as possible.”

I stood up and stretched, my thoughts picking up speed once some semblance of a course was set. “And by the way - the golden thread is usually thinned by pulling it through series of smaller holes, only to be wrapped around a silk thread. Let me roam the riverbanks and I could turn a silver thread into a gold one. For a fraction of the cost that the House of Shebet incurs by making it.”

She said nothing as I got up, merely acknowledging my statements with a slow but full nod. Deep in thoughts herself.

“Erf,” her voice caught me right at the door, “Pillar Manors never Host themselves, so they would not rise too high above others. Chimgen Manor will bring plenty of slaves and other offerings to choose from, but they will try to offer their best, simply not to look too stingy. Is either of them skilled in crafts or otherwise noteworthy?”

“Just murks. Farmers. Slaves,” I chuckled bitterly as I opened the door to the fresh air of the evening. “I am the only one, My Domina. I might share my skills with others, but there is just me.”

I waved at Viter to come over and turned around to face Aikerim. “There is only one Navigator for each ship. One Tree - one Fruit - one Erf. There won’t be less, but there aren’t more either.”

I bowed to her and left, walking past the caretaker slaves wiping wooden floors to the mirror shine. Something that my mother had been doing in the past herself. Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut, but I didn’t feel like trying to. Not as if she would understand the deeper meaning behind these words anyway.

“How was the day?” I asked my guard instead.

He shrugged, “The furnaces had been running hot all day. No sign of the lamura.”

I nodded along as I kept walking. Listening to his report about the day. Apparently, lamias were called lamuras in Emanai. Yet another word so close yet different. The lack of her presence deep within the manufacturing area of the manor was expected, but it never hurt to be ready. This is why I had him shadow me everywhere when I would move around. Even inside the manor.

Especially inside the manor.

He didn’t look like he minded it much. On the contrary, he was quite eager to follow me around. I wasn’t sure whether that was due to how effortless the task might be, compared to whatever Irje might foist on him. Or he was just eager to establish himself. Being a supervisor or a personal bodyguard was leagues better than turning back to grunt work or worse - life at the fighter pits. Clawed wer weren’t seen as much of a commodity in other areas.

That, and many of us, that were born into slavery, had been taught a certain expectation throughout our entire lives. Lazy slaves get whipped. A hardworking one behaves as a proper slave should, and with these actions, one is likely to receive better treatment and bigger meals. Freedom too. Either at the end of their life or even earlier, if one collects enough tips from his work.

I tipped the slaves under my command. Not a lot, so that the practice would cause a commotion within the manor and bring too much heat on me, but enough to keep my conscience placated. Obviously, my stupid generosity was eagerly welcomed, although Irje spun it as the incentive to work hard and quiet. I let her handle the details as she knew the intricacies much better.

Viter was also included in these payrolls. And that definitely affected his desire to stay under my 'employ'. The only ones who weren’t paid were Irje and Yeva. Mostly because I refused to see them as my slaves, simply mine.

Well, and the fact that they either held or had access to most of our money anyway.

My guard stayed outside as I crossed the entrance to my lab. And with him - my lighter thoughts about the day. Everything was fine inside the manor and that was good enough.

Aikerim had done a significant amount already, but she still cared mostly about her family first and me second. And my family was even lower than that. I had no questions that she would try to do quite a lot to help me save them from their possible future, but she would be unlikely to risk as much as I was. Domina would throw her money, and her influence to solve it, things she has plenty of and likely to recover her losses almost instantly after. But she would baulk at anything that would pose a danger even to myself.

I walked up to the set of blackboards I’ve ordered for the lab. A chalk already in my hand.

I needed more power and tools to increase my options. For that, I needed the trip to the shuttle as soon as possible. I had no intention just to twiddle my thumbs for weeks as the whole city would prepare for their fancy ‘gods of magic’ to ‘receive’ their offerings. And Aikerim would be extra twitchy if I decided to step off in the direction of Chimgen city anytime soon.

So I needed an excuse to go. Something insane in their eyes but easily achievable from the trip. Something like electroplating. Especially electroplating gold onto silver or other metals and easily tanking a lot of other trades, including the golden threads. I knew I could probably build my own power generation, even a chemical one. But that meant I would be wasting my time on something that was still present in the shuttle. And the whole purpose was to get to the said shuttle, and not just to gift Aikerim yet another golden egg.

The nanite containment consumed a decent amount of energy, both to preserve and keep the nanites operational in a user-friendly ‘installation’ shape. And it worked flawlessly for untold amounts of time. It would still be operational even now. The rest of the interior looked rather beaten up but some things should have retained their functionality, especially if I could jury rig the power source to work like a portable generator.

Perhaps I would find even more advanced machinery that somehow survived rot and decay, and not waste my time growing it from seeds. Then I might even risk a raid on the Chimgen Manor. Wermages and their gods be damned.

In the meantime, my hands were drawing formulae on the board. I needed to have my case tight to convince Aikerim why I suddenly wanted to roam a day travel away from Samat. I will have my power source, but I will have to dissolve gold in water too. And for that I needed cyanide.

Well, depending on how the ball will roll, I might need cyanide for more than that.

If I was to risk poisoning a wermage, an extremely fast poison with a small lethal dose would be ideal. They breathed the same air as we did. They grew identical hair as humans did. I was willing to bet my chances that they also used mitochondrial respiration.

My hands kept writing.

Squiggles on the board as well as notes on the wax tablet. These would not be erased. That would be my shopping list. There were a lot of creative uses of things that had nitro- or azide in their names. While I had no intention of hurting anyone, but a makeshift breach charge might open some doors previously closed to me.

Especially slave holding pens.

Absentmindedly I added zinc to the list. Aluminium would be a pain to purify, but zinc metal could be bought. Resultant thermite might be less efficient, but I would be cutting bars and shackles, not solid steel a few fingers thick.

But I didn’t feel better. The list grew and grew and with it - my frustration.

Every new purchase looked at me as yet another step I would have to make. Another detour to my family’s safety. All the intricate solutions I could find were most likely riskier than simply waiting for the ritual to be over and quietly purchasing them after. Both for me and my family.

I gritted my teeth.

Apart from harebrained solutions, the list contained things with question marks. These I did not know if I could acquire at all. Things that would not be available in Emanai unless the country won the geographical lottery and had readily available deposits. Deposits that they could recognize and, most importantly, mine out of the ground.

“Oi, Erf!” came the burly voice from outside, “The sun has set!”

“Got it!” I yelled back to Viter.

I grumbled quietly but set aside the chalk. I desperately wanted to stay here for the whole night, but I could see how far I’ve already spiralled down. The only thing that had good potential was the trip to the shuttle. Everything else after that slid down the slippery slope of destruction and revenge. The blackboard looked back at me with numerous poisons, explosives, and other caustic chemicals.

Sighing to myself, I wiped off reaction diagrams from the board. Just symbols alone could draw suspicion, the fact that these symbols represented the multitude of elements and not just Water-Earth-Fire-Air-Flow would only waste my time with too many questions and accusations. The only one, who knew some of the chemistry, was Yeva, and even she did not know these squiggles for obvious reasons.

I trudged back to my home with my bodyguard right behind me. I didn’t notice when, but my retinue changed along the way. Instead of the hulking but mostly mute tiger, I was enveloped with the soft and welcoming cougar. Irje quickly noticed my general state of mind. Or, more precisely, the lack of it, and she didn’t ask any questions as we continued to walk.

I collapsed into their hands back in our house. My girls listened quietly as I’ve told them the tale of wermage greed and selfishness. Their faces grim and understanding. I lost myself in their gentle touches, speaking without focus as their caresses tried to dispel my frustration.

Irje shined a light of promise with her own revelation. Apparently, the Sneak had been practising vigorously with Flow any time she had found herself alone and free. And she had a lot to show for her efforts. The ball, that caused her so much trouble previously, easily jumped into her palm. She could even slightly nudge other objects by now, the ones unassisted by the runes.

The speed of her progress foretold an extraordinary future. The future that she promised to me. The future that I had no desire to ruin with my desperate attempts to save my family. Despite her eagerness to lend me a hand and, especially, to participate if I decide to break horns of a certain werdrake.

I chuckled mirthlessly at her antics and descriptions of her future grandeur as she unsteadily tried to float the ball around her. If not for the current news, I would have definitely pushed for another celebration, a feast to commemorate her steps into the world of magic. But not tonight. No matter what I would do, it would ring hollow with my thoughts occupied elsewhere.

A set of small arms cradled my face.

“You are moping, Erf,” Yeva observed.

“I am,” I easily agreed, unwilling to hide my state from them, perhaps unable even. “I was thrown into this pit of manure and all that I could come up with so far is mostly dragging others with me, not pulling my family out.”

I nuzzled into her lap, inhaling her scent. Despite working with the soap chemicals and doing different glass mixes, Yeva rarely had any weird smells on her after work. She washed daily, most likely finding the new smells even more irritating than we could possibly ever do.

“And worst of all, my ideas suck,” I mumbled into her stomach, eager to complain to someone, who actually understood chemistry, “I got ammonia now, but I can’t turn it into nitric acid because I lack the catalyst, and I don't even know if Emanai has platinum for sale at all.”

Yeva hummed, “You were planning on using that ‘Ostwald’ process? Because you didn’t have the power for the other one with magnets and lightning?”

I silently nodded, ecstatic with how quickly she was picking up the knowledge that I gave. Irje was learning too, but she was clearly a more hands-on girl and already busy with everyday tasks. Especially now, that she put all her effort into magical training. In the meantime, Yeva soaked up my more esoteric knowledge like a sponge.

Truly I was blessed by having them with me.

“Can’t you just make some from saltpetre and oil of vitriol?” An innocent question interrupted my tiny spark of bliss.

“Ah but you see, this actually required me to be smart,” I meekly offered, a bit ashamed of my lack of mental flexibility. “I don’t know why I was stuck thinking I needed tons of it right now. Something like that would give me enough material to work with, in a reasonable time frame.”

“Did Yeva just best you in the knowledge of Alchemy?” Irje teased, picking up on what had just happened. Only to laugh at the scandalized gasp from the girl cradling my head.

“That she did. And I am proud for having both of you around. A mage and an alchemist. Soon I will be fighting others to keep you to myself instead.” I smiled back at her.

“And you finally stopped looking like a raisin with all that frowning. Good job, Yeva!” Her hand easily covered Yeva’s head, messing up her hair.

Curly blond squeaked indignantly and slapped the offending hands away, only to turn back on me, “You know well that you would have figured it out yourself. You are just tired, angry, and grabbing at straws.” Her fingers gently combed my locks, “These ideas are simple ones. Ideas of the frustrated Erf. Not the usual Erf, that thinks a few steps ahead and in the new, unknown directions, unlike everybody else. Rest, my love. Rest and recover. And I am sure that on the morrow you will find an answer to your problems.”

Her fingers worked wonders on my tired body. Her words, soft and full of gentle emotions carried me to the gates of dreams. I lied there, semi-awake and enjoying the soft hum of their hushed conversations, without trying to recognize any words. All my thoughts had come unwound into a formless limbo, surrounded by the softness of my bed, the supple flesh of my lovers, and the gentle touches of their hands.

It was easy to let go of my anger and frustration, while surrounded by love. I had cast aside these fuzzy thoughts, content and assured in her promise. I wasn’t alone anymore. Whatever problems I had, my new family would be there to help me out. And together we would overcome it. That, what made the family strong…

Family.

My eyes snapped open. Fully awake.

“I will be heading out into the city tomorrow morning,” I spoke to the startled girls.

“Aside from purchases that I might require, I need to meet a certain Devil.”

And explain to him, with crayons if necessary, how much his sister had done fucked up.

 

 

As usual, expect the next chapter next Thursday - August 5th

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