That had been a lie.
They had left the little canyon housing her not-vuti for the field of akaikai trees. The key was timing. Once the northernly wind came in, the valley of trees often encountered rain. Not true rain, but little showers, often in bursts. Immediately after, all of the flowering plants in the grove would blossom for however long they could. The wasps in the valley used the nectar to make honey, stored in their nests for lean times ahead.
Ba’an was going to get that honey.
“Let me get this straight,” said Lukios. “You want me to…keep this fire going and keep throwing in sambi-sahi leaves? And then…fan the smoke toward…wherever you are?”
“Yes.”
“And while I do that, you’re going to…just put your stick into the wall and take out some honeycombs?”
“Yes.”
“And the smoke will make them too drowsy to attack you.”
“Yes.”
“…Ba’an.”
“Yes?”
“You live alone.”
She sniffed and refused to answer his obvious observation.
“Ba'an. This is a two-person procedure.”
She ignored him, looking between the cracks in the cliff face for tell-tale signs of a wasp nest.
“Ba’an. Ba’an. Have you actually done this before?” Ah-ha! Success. There was a wasp nest, glued tightly into a crack in the cliff wall.
Lukios had come over to stare into the crack too. He made a noise of distress.
“Holy fuck. Ba’an. Ba’an. Those are—those are horned desert wasps. Know what we call ‘em? Murder-wasps. Ba’an, let’s go back. I’m serious. I don’t want to die over honey.” She flapped her hand at him, nonchalant.
“It will be perfectly safe. You will not die. I will not die. Not even the wasps will die. And we will have honey. Honey!”
“Ba’an. I’ll buy you honey once we get to the city. I swear on my name. This is…a terrible idea. Just…I can’t even describe how bad this idea is.” She rolled her eyes. Like his name meant anything to her.
“But I want honey now. For dinner.”
“We have to survive to have dinner.”
She sighed loudly. “Oh. I was wrong.”
He perked up. “Yes, yes, exactly! This was a terrible idea. Let’s head back.”
“No,” she said patiently. “I was wrong. I thought you are a man. But no, you are a boy. Afraid of wasps.”
“…That’s low.” He glared at her, crossing his arms. “I can’t believe you’re calling me a child because I don’t want us to get murdered by wasps. This is ridiculous. Ba’an.”
She sighed. “Very well.” He stared at her, waiting for the other sandal to fall. “You go. I will get honey. Alone.”
He didn’t look surprised at all. He glared at her with a sort of clenched-jaw look before he ground out, “Switch.”
“What?”
“I said switch.”
Ba’an stared at him, confused by the sudden change. “Why? You are afraid of wasps.”
He sighed at her. “How much sambi-sahi at a time?”
“Only a handful.”
“Okay. Whose handful?” He held up his hand, which was much larger than hers. “I don’t even know how these leaves work, or how to tell when to throw some in. So switch.” She stared at him.
“But…you are afraid of wasps.”
“No. I’m afraid we’ll die horribly over honey. But I have reach. Ba’an, switch.” Ba’an continued to stare. She could tell by his stony expression that he was serious. But…
“But…I am the one who wants honey.”
“Don’t worry, I noticed.”
“No. I am saying…it is more dangerous here.”
“I know that too.”
“You are not making sense.”
He continued to glare. Abruptly, he sat in the dirt. “I am not moving until you switch with me.”
What?
“That is…now you are being ridiculous!”
Wordlessly, he looked up at her, elbows on his knees. He raised one hand and rested his chin on it, as though to say he was ready to really wait.
Ba’an worried her lower lip between her teeth. This was an unexpected development. She had thought he would just leave if he wasn’t man enough, but no, he wanted to switch.
Perhaps this had been a bad idea.
Ba’an was confident she could survive wasps, provided it was not the full fury of the entire nest. She was a witch. Even without her coat she could use magic, though it was much more limited. Lukios was just a man. He would be stung, possibly to death. That was why she had wanted him behind the smokescreen—they wouldn’t go after him. The smoke would also make them slow and lethargic, and some of them would even sleep.
She began shaking her head. “No, Lukios. You do not understand. I am—I can—” He looked at her, expression patient and placid. It was as though whatever stupid decision he had made had given him peace. How aggravating. Ba’an floundered, trying to think of what to say. Perhaps she should simply tell him she had magic?
But he was an outlander.
Sometimes, witches were captured and sold in Dolkoi’ri slave markets. Not often. The K’Avaari preferred death to slavery, and witches had more ways than usual to kill themselves. But sometimes, very rarely, they would manage to capture a witch and keep her alive, though never for long. She had heard they were worth a small fortune.
Ba’an didn’t think he was that kind of man. But if there was one lesson she had learned well, it was that one never knew another fully. There were shadows in the soul, always: dark places, full of teeth and claws and jagged edges, hidden inside where no one could see. Sometimes the one who harboured the shadows did not see them, either.
Ba’an’s hand went to the necklace of teeth hanging around her neck and she gave it a nervous little twist.
Lukios’ eyes never left her.
The silence stretched on.
“No,” she said, finally. “I will not be killed by wasps. But you will be.” He only raised an eyebrow at her declaration.
“Really. Are you perhaps made of metal?” His eyes swept pointedly over whatever skin was exposed on her arms and legs. “It doesn’t look like it.”
Ba’an scowled and stomped to the little fire that he had already started building. Lukios frowned as he watched her finish and spark the flint and tinder against the kindling.
“You can’t be serious.”
Ba’an glared at him. “I am. Stay here.”
He started to stand. “Ba’an—"
She pressed her hand against his shoulder and he thumped back into the dirt, startled into compliance. His eyes on her face were wide.
“Stay. Here.”
Lukios shook his head, placing his hand over hers. His hand was pleasantly warm, though his fingers were all hard muscle and bone. “Ba’an. I’m serious too. If you really, really want to do this, you should let me poke the nest with the stick. I have reach. And, quite frankly, I probably run faster than you do.”
“Lukios.” Ba’an looked him in the eye. “Believe me. They will not sting me—much. They will sting you. To death. Understand?”
“No,” he said, “I don’t understand. Explain it to me.” There was something deeply piercing about his stare, and Ba’an dropped her eyes. “Ba’an?”
She shook off his hand. “You are impossible. Like an old strifa. Stubborn. No, worse. Like two old strifa.” She saw the corners of his mouth twitch up, very briefly.
“I know. I warned you, didn’t I?”
She glared at him, then kicked dirt over the fire. “Fine. You win. When we are at Kyros you will buy me honey. Many pots.” She continued to glare even as his lips curled into a smile. “Many pots.”
“I promise. I’ll buy you as much honey as you want. Other things too. Whatever you want.”
She turned around and ignored him. “Bring the sambi-sahi too.”
“Right.”
Ba’an stomped away, taking the cliff trail wordlessly. It was irritating how easily he kept up with her, even when she was striding quickly to leave him behind. Stupid long legs. At least he knew enough to keep his stupid mouth shut.
Ba’an ignored him all afternoon, annoyed. She had finally run out of salt rocks, which meant her food now tasted flat and flavorless. There was only so much she could do with what she had, and she did not eat as well as she had with her tribe—not even close. Aside from that, it embarrassed her to serve simple fare every day—a guest was a guest, even if he wasn’t staying much longer. Wasp honey was not as good as what could be bought in Kyros, true, but it was something.
Ba’an scowled at her plants as she weeded. She liked sweets as well, which were, of course, nearly impossible to come by in the desert. It was wasp honey or nothing.
“You still mad?” Lukios ambled up the path to her garden, expression not nearly as contrite as it should have been. “I made you a snack.”
“Thank you,” she said, stiffly. She was still angry, true, but she never said no to food. Hunger was hunger.
He crouched across from her watching wipe her fingers on a cloth she had dampened using her watering pot. He had baked her some mushroom wrapped in mus’ka leaves. The flavour was smoky and meaty, but she knew it would have been better with some salt—or honey. He was grinning as he watched her eat, inexplicably pleased at the sight of her putting food in her mouth and chewing.
He was a madman. No one should have been that happy watching someone else eat. It made no sense. She offered him half her portion, trying not to look begrudging. It was rude to eat alone, though—she was very hungry.
He waved his hand airily. “Nah. I’m good, thanks.” He reached over and began finishing her weeding. He had gotten very good at spotting the weeds from the herbs these past months; Ba’an thought it was a shame he was an outlander. His ability to learn seemingly anything in a short span of time would have been a great boon to any tribe. He was clever and strong, and she did not doubt that he was badly missed.
“This it?” Lukios gestured to the pile of weeds.
“Yes. I will dry them on that mat over there.” She pointed to the spot in the cave directly under the sun hole. He nodded and put the plants into a basket, and she watched, munching, as he spread them in neat, even rows.
Once she was finished eating, she rose to help him and they made short work of it. “Didn’t know you could eat this stuff.” Lukios picked up a stem with leaves and waggled it in the air.
She only nodded. Normally she would not eat balu’ta, using it for weaving instead, because it was very tough and stringy. But food was always scarce now that she lived alone, and she had fallen into the habit of wasting nothing. Once dried, she would powder it and use it to bake with. It did not make very good flatbread, but food was food.
Lukios was watching her again. Ba’an stared back at him, raising a quizzical eyebrow, but he only grinned.
“Oh yeah,” he said, “You’re still mad.” He stood up and offered her his hand, which she promptly ignored. “Definitely still mad,” he said, and she could hear the hint of laughter in his voice.
Why did he find everything so funny?
Insanity. That was why. He’d laugh the entire way to his grave, she was sure.
“And now you’re thinking awful thoughts about me, aren’t you?” Lukios leaned over so he could put a finger on her nose. “I can tell. You always get a wrinkle right—here.” He ran his finger over the bridge of her nose, and she scowled at him until he retreated, though his grin never drooped or faded.
Ba’an raised her chin and glared down her nose at him—or tried to. He was very tall, so it did not work very well. Lukios only chuckled, very quietly, before speaking again.
“Oh, Ba’an. I’m sorry we didn’t get your honey. I’ll get you as many pots as you want in Kyros, really. Really.”
“They are only wasps, Lukios.”
“No, they’re horned desert wasps. Just ‘cause I’m an outlander, doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Like fuck, those things are scary.” He shuddered dramatically. “I still can’t believe you wanted to poke them with a stick.”
“I grew up in the desert, Lukios. The dramatics are not necessary. This is the usual procedure.”
He looked at her skeptically. “Your people poke at wasp nests with sticks to get honey?”
“…Yes.” It was not technically a lie. Normally it took many people to manage the procedure, but Ba’an had magic—more magic than any normal witch. She was certain she would have managed.
“Uh huh.” He gave her a disbelieving look. “Bet you it takes more than two people, though.”
She glared.
“Yup. Thought so.” He raised his hand again, presumably to poke her again, and her glare deepened as she stepped back.
“Do not poke at my nose, Lukios.”
He raised his hands in the air in a ‘Who, me?’ gesture. “Nuh uh. Thought you’d look pretty with one of these.” He grinned and gave her a very elaborate bow with a flourish at the end. A bright red bus’ka flower appeared in his hand, as though by magic. She blinked. Now where had he been hiding that? She eyed the folds of his clothes, puzzled.
She schooled her expression before he could see it, though she did not think she succeeded by the way his grin widened. Ba’an only raised her eyebrow again, this time rather archly. “So, I am so ugly I need a flower to make me pretty?”
“What?” The grin dropped from his face, and he looked genuinely flustered. “Wha—no. I wasn’t—”
Ba’an tried to turn away quickly to hide her smile, but she was too slow.
“—ah. Oh, that was mean, s—Ba’an. Real mean.” He gave her a wounded look and put his hand over his heart. “You shouldn’t degrade a man’s sincerity, Oh Great-Witch-of-the-Cave. It’s cruel. Cruel.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “I am not a witch, and this is a nur-vuti. Do not call it a cave. It is rude.” Of course, it really was a cave, but it was discourteous to say so out loud. It wasn’t as though she wanted to live in an unfinished vuti.
“Okay. Cranky-Healer-of-the-Sands? Grumpy-Lady-of-the-Nur-Vuti?” He stepped closer and closer, and Ba’an found herself moving backwards, craning her neck to scowl up at him. “Pretty-Lady-with-the-Mean-Scowl?”
“Now you are reaching.” How ludicrous. He was back to grinning again.
“About what? You being pretty?” He laughed a little, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you think I’m lying. Even your scowl’s pretty—unless—is that why you’re so cranky all the time? No one ever told you how pretty you are, even when you scowl?”
What?
“That makes no sense, Lukios. Why would I be cranky if I thought my scowl was not pretty? No, wait—no one scowls to be pretty, Lukios. This is a ridiculous conversation.” As many of their conversations were, naturally. He was insane. Ludicrous. He was lucky he was so handsome, because no one would put up with him otherwise, she was certain.
And Ba’an was not flustered. She was not. He was only a mad outlander man who said the most outrageous things whenever the mood took him. Ba’an was not some silly girl to be charmed, she was a witch, a—
He dipped his head down so he could look down into her eyes and she squeaked in surprise, nearly falling over backwards. He reached out and gripped her about the waist, pulling her close to keep her from tumbling.
When he spoke again, his breath stirred the hair that had escaped her bun. It tickled. “Careful! That’s a pretty steep hill. Can’t have the healer become the patient now, can we?”
“It is your fault, Lukios.” She put her hand on his chest and pushed, but he only let out a soft chortle of amusement. He did not budge, not even a little. It was like an ant pushing at a boulder.
Lukios always radiated heat, like a rock that had baked beneath the sun all day. His warmth was seeping into her through their clothes. The hem of his chiton brushed her dress and she was suddenly aware of what lay beneath it—skin and muscle, bone and soul. She could feel the strength in his arms as he held her up.
She felt her face go hot. It was very annoying.
“Okay. It’s my fault. Here’s my apology.” He reached down and she felt his fingers in her hair, tucking something in between the strands. When he released her the bus’ka flower was nestled behind her ear.
“One flower is a poor apology,” she groused, but she did not pluck it from her hair. It was a sweet gesture, though she was determined not to say so. He would be gone soon, so there was no point in being friendlier than she already was.
“True,” he said, and pulled her even closer. Ba’an blinked, staring up into his eyes as his grin broadened. “How about I—”
“—Stop talking and check the traps? Very good idea. Go, Lukios,” she snapped and broke away, hastily retreating down the hill. The spots where his hands had been felt cold now, and the fact that she noticed bothered her intensely. “I will prepare…dinner.”
As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she realized they had just had lunch only a few hours before. The sun was still high in the sky. By now her cheeks were flaming, which she knew was stupid. Knowing it was stupid made them even hotter, which only served to aggravate her further.
Ba’an was not running. She was not. She was walking quickly. Very quickly.
Lukios was still staring at her from the top of the hill. Even from this distance she could see that he was grinning.
“Whatever you say, Ba’an!” He gave her a very Dolkoi’ri salute as she scrambled as quickly as she could while still remaining dignified to the not-vuti. She scowled to herself as she entered the kitchen—and paused. On the counter was a pot full of bus’ka flowers from the valley.
Oh.
She felt her cheeks go hot again. Tentatively, she reached out and touched one of the large, waxy petals with her fingers. They only bloomed for a short time, right after the rain. Their sweet scent had filled the small space of the not-vuti, and Ba’an’s mouth stretched into a smile as she leaned over and sniffed them.
Hm. Perhaps she ought to make something he liked for dinner.
Gathering honey, aborted as it was, had been the second last thing on the list. Ba’an had her herbs, and she spent the evening preparing them—she hung whatever had to be dried and took down whatever was already dry to make powders. Powders were not as potent as freshly made decoctions and ointments, but they kept much, much better and were easy to measure out and sell.
Once everything was ready, they would leave for Kyros. Lukios would be able to send a message from there to whomever, and he would finally go home. Ba’an would sell off everything she could and buy as many supplies as she could manage on one trip before returning to her not-vuti.
There was one last thing on the list.
Lukios was well enough to make the hike back to the road.
She had given him his things back by the time he had been able to stand and wander around on his own. She had gone back to the site before he had woken the first time to pick up his clothes and weapons. The truth was that her power was limited—she could not take that which was not living flesh and blood with her when she used her coat. So she had ended up taking him naked back to her not-vuti, which meant that she had had nothing to clothe him with. She had had to haul everything back on foot.
That had been…unpleasant.
Lukios had wanted to go back to the site of the attack at least once. Ba’an had told him everything she remembered: the number of bodies, what they had been wearing, where they had been laying. She had told him about the empty carriage too, which he had seemed to find particularly disturbing. Even so, he had insisted on seeing the site for himself, though she had told him that by the time he was well enough to walk there, the attack would have been discovered and reported and the road cleared.
She would take him there, though. She had a feeling this was much more personal than he was letting on. After all, he was a man. He was not likely to admit why he was so adamant on seeing the site for himself.
She would take him to the road so he could have his peace. Then, she would take him to Kyros.
Do i smell lOvE in the air?
Could be!
Or maybe he just needs a bath?
that's been so obvious even my dense ass noticed xD
@Mortuos Hahah, glad it was obvious! Thanks for reading and commenting!
Idk, because of the power imbalance it almost seems like Stockholm syndrome. Hurt guy trying to help but getting constantly emasculated.
Not to worry, Lukios is not very easy to emasculate and he has a naturally massive ego. And he's definitely had worse.
I would say there are more *elements* of Nightingale Effect rather than Stockholm syndrome, since the latter tends to be more indicative of an abusive relationship, not merely a power imbalance. Do you find the relationship abusive?
@bokhi a little though only because lukios is not actually saying anything. (My guess would be because of the fact he is at her mercy) the fact this is never addressed is a little disturbing.
@bokhi also can't get out of my head that the set up is a bit too similar to Steven king's misery. The female lead has good intentions but wasn't the antagonist in misery just trying to save the heroine she loved? I probably am the only one that thinks that though.
@melchi Now I'm curious. Which behaviours would you say are abusive?
Re: her mercy
Lukios in the current chapter has free movement and full control of his body. I'm not sure what you mean by him being at her mercy here, because Ba'an does not wear her coat at all in her house (the MacGuffin of Power) and all she can do without it is suck out souls via skin-to-skin contact. Can you elaborate?
@melchi I think there are only two very superficial points of similarity: physical isolation and the roles (healer/patient). Spoilered for a brief discussion of Misery:
I'm not sure how you've come to the conclusion that Annie's intentions were "good" since I think most people would not consider trapping a writer and mutilating him to keep him writing to be a morally virtuous action or even thought. [Edit: even in terms of pure intention, I don't think most people think fans' entitlement attitudes constitute "good intentions", tbh. Most people outside of fandom think that's kinda bratty, at minimum.] Even more so when we consider she was an actual serial killer. I think the entire novel has a very, very different tone and approach, even aside from the modern real-world setting.
Annie also went in the opposite direction of Ba'an: more movement restriction (I believe Annie hacks Paul's legs* off or something like that, which is the opposite of what Ba'an does), more drug use (not less and tightly controlled), no intention of setting him loose (Ba'an is the opposite--she wants to rush him home because she's a cranky hermit cave witch).
Those are just the rough points, but looking even at character motivations, there's really no comparison. There's no comparison thematically, either, so I don't really see the connection (there are lots of novels in the world with superficial similarities).
You're welcome to think so, of course--I'm only saying I just don't see it (and I suspect that your closing comment is true too--I've never had any other reader say anything similar, though perhaps someone just hit the back button without commenting! Impossible to know.)
*Edit: It was his foot, not his leg(s), lol. Misery's old and it's been a while.
The isolation aspect can also easily turn against her, too: Lukios is some dude she picked up off the road. She has no idea if he's an axe murderer or not and he is significantly bigger and stronger than her. She is also an exile, which means aside from physical isolation, she has no social, psychological, or emotional support should he prove to be a danger to her wellbeing. Further, I find it curious that you've made some abuse considerations for Lukios, but none for Ba'an: between the two of them, it's Ba'an who has suicidal ideation from being cut off from all human contact. This would make her spectacularly vulnerable to emotional and psychological abuse, which is
exactly what happened in the first draft. He seduced her, used her as a glass cannon to become emperor, then burned her coat once he was done to make sure she could never move against him. That version of Lukios was an asshole. Smart and a really great antagonist, but also a real asshole.
She also gives him free reign of her domicile with zero supervision, which means he can poison her with the herblore she taught him, or take the axe he uses to chop wood to kill her in her sleep. (Actually, she gave him his sword back too, but he's big enough that he won't need it if he wants to kill her--he can definitely just smash her skull open on the counters or something while she's cooking with her back to him.)
Tl;dr: It can go both ways, and I'm not sure how you're picking up Lukios being too frightened to say something since he had no issue telling her off about the wasps, manners be damned. But I'd be interested if there were any key conversations that you thought were particularly frightening for Lukios or abusive toward him!
@bokhi
For god's sake, their relationship is obviously not abusive. For starter, Lukios doesn't even know that Ba'an is a witch, (he might suspect it at this point but has no proof), therefore he has little to no reason fearing her. I swear people today more often than not are completely blinded by their own imagination projecting itself into anything that is put in front of them. Instead of letting the actual story speak for itself, and just enjoying the ride.
This is like two deeply hurt and lost people finding that unconsciously desired company in one another's presence. It's hard to call it love at this point, I believe, it is more like a sense of infatuation fuelled by a large amount of gratitude. On both side.
Ba'an is simply happy because she is not alone anymore, while having help and someone to talk to. Real tsundere that one... Also, based on the descriptions, and the spartan society, the guy is basically a walking eyecandy who by the way also saved her LIFE from the storm. And probably from jumping off a cliff by his presence there. As she had someone that needed her help, which made her existance meaningful.
While Lukios is obviously happy to be alive, being in the company of a beatiful lady, who saved his LIFE and behind the cold exterrior is basically an entitled caring mother hen, and that is as cute as it realistically gets...
Of course he would feel attracted to her, like come on... what else do a man need in such circumstances? Forgotten by the outside world, forced to rely on each other, while being the only man and woman in hundreds of miles... Jeeze, there is something to be said for a hopelessly romantic situation. Like, if someone doesn't start to feel that way in this circumstances than they are probably emotionally ret*rded.
@bokhi After he gets better it sorta dispels some of my early worries. Like you said the thing with the wasps. If he really was afraid of Ba'an then why did he risk her wrath by doubling down like that.
Early on it wasn't really what was said but what wasn't being said. The focus was very much on Lukios and Ba'an in their own little world. His lack of opening up to her and trying to joke / keep a cheery attitude seemed like a coping mechanism to fend off despair. (And yeah, I didn't know what nightingale effect was so agree it is more appropriate.) With the story being in 3rd person very limited it is hard not to speculate. I saw him trying to move around even when he was supposed to stay in bed as grasping at whatever sense of agency he could get his hands on.
Again, in this chapter it proves that wrong, just the first few it is hard not to despair at the really terrible blow Lukios is forced to swallow.
@melchi
Well, he is a battle-hardened veteran. Has multiple earlier now healed wounds (scars) even worse than the one he suffered now. There is the saying those who live by the sword, die by it. I mean, he at this point probably is used to such outcomes, at least as much as a man can get used to that. (Obviously, he wouldn't feel entirely stoic about it, but it is reasonable to believe that he is less depressed than most would be.) To begin with, it is kind of hard to pity someone who kills people as a profession.
In the next chapter, I believe it turns out why he was so restless as well.
Also, it was already mentioned that he maybe is just the type that can't sit without doing something. There are people like that... And yes, it is often because they are not at peace with themselves, and don't want to stay alone with their thoughts, but that is not always the case either.
I don't think that them being lost in their world is strange at the start. I mean, if I was the one who brought home a complete stranger with a critical injury and started nurturing him or her back to health, I wouldn't really have one clue how to speak with him or her, especially after living alone for who knows how long. Not even mentioning the disabling fact that they could barely speak with each other. Language barriers and all.
It is perfectly normal to have a thick sense of awkwardness lingering in the air, on both sides, in such circumstances.
However, I guess I must accept that some of Ba'an's internal monologs thinking about eating the guy's soul or letting him die are pretty cold. Alas, she never acted upon such thoughts. It could have been considered internal jokes, or silent complaints. If she wasn't a witch, that is.
In this case, I believe that it is her animalistic instincts, or the monster hidden inside coming to the surface at times... the one she might live in some sort of symbiosis or stuff, but we don't know about that right now. What matters was that her conscious thoughts and intentions were clear. She could have left him to die, but she didn't.
That should be enough to feel gratitude.
Also, I don't get what you mean, third person descriptions being limited? I mean... their thoughts are written down from a third person point of view just as well as it would be from a first person... They are showcased either way. It wouldn't make any difference if it was written in first person...
@melchi Thanks for the response! I was pretty surprised by the interpretation (I have actually more activity on TSC on RR and WP than on SH to the point that some readers used to DM me their comments, and this is the first take I've had saying Lukios is the one in danger), so I appreciate you taking the time to clarify.
I can sort of see where you're coming from, but my suspicion is that you're probably applying a very modern lens to characters that are not from modern or WEIRD (Wealthy, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, Democratic) cultures. Keep in mind, I've built TSC using an evolutionary and cultural psychology lens (and of course this naturally integrates anthropology and archaeology), so you can expect every character introduced to have unusual or even objectionable moral views and actions. Personally, I don't think the world is "grimdark" per se, really just more realistic based on the historical record, but I think on most web novel sites that tag would apply. Just FYI in case you hate grimdark!
I actually forgot to mention this before, but if we consider that what you purport is true (Ba'an thinks Lukios doesn't know she's a witch, but Lukios knows she is one), then I'd say this also gives him some power: he has better intel, and he has a military background. I don't believe power is just about physical strength or capacity for violence, since we know in the real world, a big bear of a guy can still be abused by his much smaller female SO if she is more comfortable with emotional and psychological abuse than he is with violence. So the mindset is very important and not just raw power or capacity. Ba'an has her soul hunger, but it comes with a deep sense of shame. She's also very strict and law-abiding, since she gives him guest rights and follows them through even though she's an exile in the middle of nowhere: there's no one to come down on her for breaking social norms. She follows them anyway!
Lukios, as @Yokem has pointed out, is a battle-hardened veteran. The thing about being a good warrior and soldier is that you actually do have to use your brain and strategize for maximum success, so I personally wouldn't think of Lukios as a helpless meow-meow regardless of his physical status. He got where he is by being very good at killing and winning, and he's good at killing and winning because he's got a very good brain.
Personally, I suggest you reread the first 5 chapters again after reading "Recovery" (mild spoilers):
Lukios is definitely not helpless. He's strategic, and Ba'an's so arrogant that she never even notices how dangerous this guy actually is or even what he's up to. In fact, she doesn't ever realize this, ever, even when Lukios himself points out how dumb and careless she was about the whole thing.
Re: POV
I actually use a POV referred to as "close third person", which is very much like first person but without the first-person pronouns. You can expect every POV to be unreliable in that the characters have their own biases (I think Ba'an's are pretty obvious by now--she's pretty xenophobic and arrogant, and she comes from a very harsh culture. Her blunt verbiage is pretty typical for K'Avaari witches, so Lukios, who somehow mysteriously spoke K'Avaari in Ch. 2, probably knows that already).
Re: Restlessness
I think @Yokem has already covered this really well, but I'll just add that it's not unusual for high-energy patients to be restless, especially the younger males (ask any elementary school teacher, lol). If you're used to running around outside and like being active, being bedridden is horrible torture, lol. Granted, I know that the younger generations are not quite so active, but Lukios comes from a world without screens or smartphones. He's used to being outside and doing stuff, which is also why he cuts so much damn wood. Aside from all that survivor's guilt, he's bored out of his mind, lol.
Thanks for the conversation! =D
(And sorry for all the digressions, lol. Apparently I still love blah-blah-blahing about TSC and it never gets old, lmao.)
@Yokem Wow, this is 95-99% accurate. I don't really have anything to add, lol, though I think some later chapters might surprise you. (But hopefully in an amusing way, lol.)
Thanks for the response!
@Yokem This is impressively on-point, lol. I'll show you one of my favorite RR comments once you're done reading "Rescue", tho. It really is more of a comedy situation than a horror situation, imho, and would make a smashing '80s era fantasy adventure story, complete with femme fatale...
Re: POV
Yup. I use something called "close third person", so it's meant to sort of replace the first-person narrative and still have a very personal experience. =)
Thanks for reading and commenting!
@bokhi Yeah, most users on scribble hub are very quiet. There are a few places where chapters have a lot of comments but it is mostly because of author's reply turning into a conversation :P
@melchi Other SH authors must have iron wills, because I can never say just one thing about TSC, lmao. Thanks for the chat. =)
@melchi Yes, that is pretty true! But if you compare it to Archive of Our Own, then SC will look like a nest of beehives. Mostly because of their crappy search engine. Which is not even really crap, just ridiculously complicated to use, or annoying at best.
@bokhi
Hah, I can only imagine... and people wonder why so many become absorbed by conspiracy theories nowadays.
About the POV to be honest, I had to roll up the chapter and recheck it to realize that it is not written in first person to begin with... So based on that, I would say it's working.
Sometimes ago, I was practically slapped in the face with the sobering fact that a large amount of people don't understand standard writing basics anymore. They simply don't read physical books, or books that are written in a physical book form, and or just don't understand English on a good enough level, which is the lesser problem.
And I also familiarized myself with the concept of "wall texting". Now that was an adventure of its own kind. I was like sooo confused, that people were losing (track) and probably themselves (based on the comments)... and in this case quite the literary way, between the lines of my story. Like did they ever open any physical books? Or did they stop reading Shakespeare because he was wall texting?
Ah... aside from jokes...
It's probably that my eyes are so f*cked up that I don't even feel a valid difference between reading on a monitor or through a book anymore... Anyway, in the end I caved in and separated the paragraphs into what I call, light novel format.
Very grudgingly, if I might add.
@Yokem Lol, I will admit I can't read anything "deeply" on a screen. If I have to do any serious reading, I have to print it out (I'm seriously dating myself here, aren't I? ). I use a laser printer for this, and let's just say...in 2022 I went through 2 heavy-use toner cartridges, lol. (And don't get me started on how expensive books are now. Oooouuuch.) I still read things online, though, but only for leisure. The scrolling drives me a little nuts, though, haha, and I always have the "page turn" animation enabled in my ebook readers. Weird, I know, hahahah...
I think the wall of text/text-walling is due to reading on mobile. Paragraphs that are reasonable become huge on mobile, lol. I have also cut up some paragraphs (and chapters), since TSC was originally written in novel format. I'll admit I feel a bit of trepidation, since I know if I want to go back to novel format I'll have to go through and edit that all over again...especially since this draft is different from the previous one. The endless editing loop of dooooom!
@bokhi
Now that is interesting, this gives further validation to my growing suspicion, that I might evolved into some special screen reading sub human spices. It simply doesn't bother me even if I read on mobile phone, laptop, pc basically anything. Not exactly the super power I dreamed of as a child, but it's something to start with.
Ah... the editing, yes... don't get me started on that.
@bokhi To tell you the truth, I don't even notice the paragraphing. I entirely use a screen reader and headphones for web novels. Just plop on a set of headphones, tell google assistant to "read it" with the chapter open and take a walk for 20 mins or so. (This makes webnovels with really short chapters kinda a pain but works extra good for long ones.)
It is also problematic for authors that don't tag their dialogue or for authors that have a character with a lengthy internal monologue that seamlessly goes on while they are talking. (I don't think that is good writing for a fiction anyway)
@melchi What program are you using? I tried to do that but every program I found required me to highlight the text to play it. I ain't got no time for that when I'm out for a walk!
@Yokem Now that is an amazing super power, indeed, lol. I'm seriously thinking of getting those special blue light glasses because I do so much work online, so I am somewhat envious, lol.
@bokhi if your phone is android just hold down the power button to activate Google assistant. It should be built in to the phone already. At least newer ones . Then tell Google assistant to read it. Like I open the chapter in chrome then just activate Google assistant then select read it.
@melchi Oh, I see. That explains it. I have Google assistant disabled, lol. It's too damn creepy, ha. Thanks for the info, though! Good to know! =)
@melchi I do that sometimes as well.
@bokhi Oh, come to think of it I have those, but only a weaker version, because the other type changes everything to have a slightly blue color, and I don't really want that in everyday life. Kind of annyoing.
On another note, just download edge browser and it has an inbuilt function without requiring any location tracking or similar bullsh*t to be turned on. You can even choose from a variety of voices to read any text for you. If you want to listen to english literature with an Uganda like accent you can have it. I just listened to the entrie Robinson Crusou novel in a single day just about a week ago.
@Yokem Thanks for the tip! Going to try it out later today!