Chapter 7. Talk to the Fist
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I spit the blood out of my mouth as I observed my adversary. Despite the explosive beginning he patiently waited once I landed on the ground. Standing close but well out of my reach.

Without knowing, he gave me precious time to prepare. The time that I had no intentions of wasting by forcing him to act once again.

Time for my skinsuit to envelop at least my torso.

Navigators never left their skinsuits behind. Once grown, they became an integral part of our biology and were safely stored in subdermal pouches when not in use. They were also designed with quick deployment in mind. The inner fibrous layer was split into multiple spools of exoskeleton muscle fibres that would envelop my skin in the first protective sheath and assist me in the physical tasks if needed. Once they were set, they would drag the second layer of protection out on the surface. The ganoid scale layer. Rows upon rows of highly mineralized enamel plates designed for extreme hardness.

I made sure to make them of a similar colour to Aikerim’s white scale mail. If someone would notice it, I would prefer them to think it was an expensive gear rather than an outright impossible one.

The scale layer would convert any physical impact into a blunt force, which would then be absorbed and spread out across my body by the flexible but viscous muscle layer. The scales would likely break if the force gets excessively large, but that is why they were scales. Each one was alive and would regrow if it would get lost or broken.

This whole process could be lightning fast too.

If I wasn’t dressed in summer short-sleeved tunic and was trying to avoid unnecessary attention that is. Rapid envelopment would not only shred my clothes to pieces, but it would also reveal my hidden tricks to all there were to see.

As such, tiny snakes of dull black slowly crept around my torso as I lay on the ground, hidden away by the linen of my shirt. My arms and legs would stay uncovered but they weren’t that critical. My head? Well, I had a thick forehead for a reason.

Especially since I once again was walking around the manor without any guards. That would teach me to be extra prudent next time around. Speaking of guards — I had to find where Viter fell off to. Haven’t seen him around since I was back.

I felt a hint of concern, the faint worry of a tree-ship. Internally smiling, I gently pushed the enquiry away making sure to add appreciation to my emotions. Lif was too far and in an unknown location, any assistance would come in late, and likely to endanger her more than help me. My situation wasn’t dire yet anyway.

“Are you going to crawl on the ground all this time?” Sulla raised his eyebrow.

“Well,” I carefully started to get up, making sure he wouldn’t reach me with a single move, “You weren’t attacking, which meant I was doing something right.”

“I do know that you had brought a wer with a broken leg,” Sulla made a step forward, “But perhaps I shouldn’t have waited for you.”

I took an equal step back. “What is this about?”

“I am not here to talk.” He frowned, only to harrumph when I kept my distance once again, “This is about your freedom, kid.”

“You want to fight me because of it?” I was still unsure what did he wanted me to do. Definitely not kill or maim for that I was certain. Aikerim mentioned Sulla when we talked about my freedom but she was even less obvious than him.

He scoffed, “If I wanted to fight you, you would have been on the floor already, bleeding. I want to see your strength. Show me, or stay a slave forever.”

Well then.

I stretched, hearing the soft but comforting rustle of fully deployed scales on my back, and took a better fighting stance. Legs wide to keep my balance, arms up high and guarding my chin, ready to stop another blow.

Too high, in fact.

I also tried a few jabs in his direction that had absolutely zero chance of hitting him at all. I had the strength and speed but I had no training in hand-to-hand combat, especially gravity combat. Navigators attacked through their ships, not with their hands.

Sulla tsked seeing my actions, “Pathetic.”

Before I could utter anything at all, a huge blow landed into my gut. Hard enough to make my feet slide on the ground. His fist planted right on my wide-open stomach, a wave of warmth over my skinsuit as the only feeling of impact.

Right where I wanted it to be.

“Huh?”

I stopped faking my guard as I grabbed his arm. My other fist slammed into his face point-blank again and again. He knew how to dodge and fight better than me, but all I had to do was keep him close and keep him occupied.

Besides, his fist was strong but he was nowhere close to Albin.

I felt my feet get kicked out of me as I fell back on the ground, his arm wrenching out of my fingers in the process. I bounced immediately backwards only to see him put a distance between us this time.

That wasn’t good. He was trained and smart, and now he was wary.

Sulla blew the blood out of his nose, only to frown as he noticed the large bruise forming on his forearm. Right where I held him. “Impressive, I admit. This is not a strength of a murk.”

“I have an Alchemist title for a reason,” I pointedly reminded him, “That doesn’t mean I only make powders to make my enemies sleep or die foaming at the mouth.” I patted my belt as I spoke to remind him I had other, deadlier methods too.

“Good. Come with me.” He turned around and started walking away as if nothing happened.

“Perhaps I need to grab Viter,” I scratched my head as I started to follow him, “Something tells me that this was just the beginning.”

“The tiger wer?” Sulla answered without turning his head, “He is recovering after training with Irje.”

“Training…” The images of Irje’s muscular arm popped into my mind, along with the tiny scratches and bruises. “What would require something that intense?”

“Haven’t you guessed already by now? Your freedom of course. Or did you think that all Domina has to do is say a word?”

“I came from a farm manor,” I reminded him, “No one gets free there. You work until you grow old and then you die. There had been some rumours that, if one worked hard enough, Domina would set them free, but no one believed that load of crap. After that, my time in Kiymetl had been rather busy. While all the codices Aikerim Adal tasked me to read were about how Emanai worked as a whole, how to distinguish the rank of a wermage by their sash, and how not to offend them afterwards. As far as I recall, none of them was called ‘ten easy steps to become a free murk’.”

Sulla barked a laugh, “Such codex will make mountains of gold for its author. If they would survive long enough to see the profit.”

“So, what’s the catch then?” I prompted, “I know that I will have to defend myself more often once I am free and my sadaq was in agreement with my thoughts. However, the Irje’s training and your own attack make me think that I would be hunted as soon as I take down the amulet of Kiymetl off my neck.”

“Because you will be, in a certain way.” He waved me down the path I never had the chance and opportunity to explore that much. We were heading toward the general living quarters of the Kiymetl. Place where cousins, uncles, and other relatives lived at. These of status to expect certain treatment based on their relationship rather than work they provided, yet not that closely related to live in the inner courtyards, where Domina and her immediate family lived.

This was a place that Aikerim made sure I would avoid.

Probably for the best, as I could imagine what kind of nasty web of intrigues I could’ve landed myself into when I was just a new teacher yet blessed by the Golden Gestr on my neck.

I was already seeing the calculating eyes on me, both by foxes and minotaurs alike.

Tarhunna’s side of the family lived here as well.

For a quick moment, I wondered how would they look at me once Anaise would officially move out of the inner courtyard and settle into my estate. Would they be slavish to the husband of the Lady of the House? Or would they resent me for spoiling their precious flower? But these thoughts quickly passed away as Sulla started talking again.

“Emanai is besieged by enemies on all sides. Other states are eager to see us fall, while creatures of the Forest will feast on our bodies once they find the soft flesh. And Emanai does not tolerate any weakness or rot within. You either perform your Purpose or you are made to Serve. Most take their Purpose with pride but anyone could challenge it. And to successfully challenge it you must prove your worth. Not with coins and concoctions but with cold steel.”

“A military conscription,” I summarized his words.

“Precisely. If you seek a better status — you need to prove to Emanai that you can defend it. The Manorat needs to know that if a calamity strikes, you can pick up your sword and spear and march toward the enemy. And be more than a nuisance on the battlefield.”

We passed another set of gates and I noticed the increase in steel and leather. A multitude of new noises assaulted my ears: clangs of steel, yells of an instructor, and repeated grunts of people sparring and exercising. The omnipresent smell of sweat and oil.

Apparently, we walked all the way to the guard barracks combined with some sort of manor’s training grounds.

“How long does it last?” I asked as I observed the wer and wermage activity all around me. So this is where Kiymetl guards would come from. And where they would disappear after their task was done.

“For normal murks — depends. You could march the drills and protect the caravans for two years. Or participate in a single campaign that would declare you worthy. A campaign that could last less than a year, or more than five. If you survive that is, as even the caravan duty would claim a certain number of murks and wer in a year. Do all that, and you could take a title of freed murk from Domina rather than a subordinate. Stay for more than five years and get a stipend from Emanai Manorat. Twenty — and you will receive a plot of land to call your own.”

The last part was concerning.

“Freed murks can’t just buy land?”

Sulla stopped and turned around to face me. “Freed murks can’t afford land, kid. Even these twenty years of service would give you but a tiny plot near the slopes of the Babr mountains. The only place inside Emanai where creature attacks still occur. And yet many do this eagerly, despite the chances of them never reaching that age.

“Make no mistake, Your position is special even among the few murks favoured by the Houses. Every year thousands of murks join Emanai Arms. And less than a hundred would be promoted out of Manors. Skilled artisans, artists, teachers. Companions. They will join the forces from a much more favourable position both due to their patron’s influence as well as the skills they possess. You will be among their kind.”

“Skills?” I prompted.

“Anything. Ability to read and write. To shape wood or hammer steel. Even singing songs to the commanders and generals. They will find where you will be most useful, and if they don’t, Aikerim Adal would force them to make a position for you. What matters, in the end, is that on the field of battle you will likely be a runner to deliver missives rather than a warrior in the first lines. Your duty would be as short as possible too — Domina wouldn't want you to waste your time digging latrines.”

He nodded at the wer training nearby, “But that doesn’t mean you will slack off with training either. Domina is taking a high risk to send you away and she expects you to come back safe and sound. That means you will be ready for battle even if all you will ever do is pour wine for the generals. Understood?”

I couldn’t help but stand straight, “Yes sir.”

He frowned, “My name is Sulla, not Ser. No matter. Facing enemy combatants or even weathering the volleys of war mages would not be your most pressing concern. That spot belongs to the creatures of the Forest.”

That made me gulp. Throughout my entire childhood at the farm, these were the bogeymen. The Things that cared not for your begging and all they knew was hunger. Having obtained some wisdom, I’ve realized how irrational my fear was back then. But that didn’t mean they weren’t deadly. They were just very unlikely to reach that deep into Emanai without encountering any resistance on the way.

They simply weren’t a priority for me to waste my time over.

Until now.

Now I would likely train for the possibility of meeting one of them face to face.

My fists clenched as I shook the worry away. This was a price for my freedom and the freedom of my loved ones. I promised my mother that I would set her free and I promised myself that there were very few things I was unwilling to pay to get that.

And the possibility to face a magical beast was an acceptable price in my mind.

Especially since I had the time to prepare for it, and a powerful House that was unwilling to see me dead just as much as I didn’t. Now Aikerim’s previous statements about me being ready had made a bit more sense. And why my battle prowess seemed to change her opinion on it.

Sulla nodded, apparently finding my expression acceptable, and pulled out some sort of a seal. He passed it to the nearby guards who immediately opened a door they were guarding. A passage slip of sorts.

“Come inside.”

 

Anaise Kiymetl Hilal

She gently swirled the cup of honeyed wine as she observed the room in front of her. Quietly waiting until the other two would stop squirming around. Anaise didn’t show anything on her face but patience, even forcing her tail to lay still lest she would spook one of them.

As the Lady of the House and Domina-to-be, Anaise had spent considerable time learning about sadaq-at and her own future role within one. The role that she would not have here but a role that she gave up willingly not to lose her Erf to the two in front of her.

She wouldn’t show her displeasure, however. Anaise had enough awareness to see how territorial Erf was of his sadaq. And she preferred to be one within it rather than turn into an interloper. Especially since his loyalty would spread to her through the sadaq. And his loyalty was worth it.

Perhaps he wasn’t a daimon as he told her multiple times but by his actions alone he might as well be. Whatever knowledge he possessed wasn’t just a curiosity, for it contained a hidden power within. Her lips twitched as her cheeks grew red, his sparse musings around her breast had unlocked something within her magic. An idea of curved lines somehow fuelled her spells in unusual ways. And allowed her to bypass the problems that her teachers claimed as unsolvable obstacles for centuries.

Yes, she was definitely willing to share.

But that was not the challenge Anaise was facing right now. Erf asked for things many would consider outrageous, but he gave back equally. The other two members of sadaq would not be that easy.

Anaise could see the lingering unease in their bodies as the tallest wer hugged the lithe murk close. Irje and Yeva. She should take their names to memory.

No matter how trusting Erf was, she was still a threat to them, and that needed to be addressed early.

“In less than three tendays the Divine Ritual will begin.” Anaise started from far away. “With the festivities lasting for a tenday at least. During that time I will have my Entrance Feast as I reach my twentieth birthday. As members of our sadaq, you will be welcome to attend, but I will understand if you find large crowds of wermages… unpalatable.”

“Thank you… Anaise.” Irje still struggled with calling her directly by the first name, Yeva merely nodded silently.

“While these celebrations would be eventful there will be another feast right after. When I will publicly announce my entrance to the sadaq.” She pressed on despite the tense air, “During that time I would expect you to sit beside me as it is proper for these of equal status.”

Irje sighed, “Thank you. Your offer is most generous.”

Her tail swished, “This is not an offer. While this outcome is not the optimal I’ve wished for, I intend to stay. And I will not, as Erf tends to say, burn bridges while doing so.”

“You did not have to join.” The quiet girl whispered.

“And you did not have to offer me to Erf or entice me with the conditioners. Yet, here we are.” Anaise cut her off immediately.

She planned for this conversation this entire morning and had a few years of education on her sash. Erf had mentioned that Yeva had a sharp mind but she clearly did not have any formal training in debates either.

Anaise plucked a grape, “I did not set this meeting to start petty fights. You might have met him sooner than I did, but don’t think that a few tendays would matter when we are talking about years. I will fight to keep him, and if you decide to oppose me for choosing what you asked Erf to offer, I might just win. Patience is a wermage speciality after all.”

Yeva huffed, “Why did you set it, then?”

“There is the Summit of Speakers. The meeting of the Manors that rules over Emanai, which my aunt attends as the Speaker of Kiymetl. But there are other meetings that serve equally important tasks. Just like the one where Sophia Shebet Chasya, the Censor of Emanai, had pressured my mother to bring Erf to. Despite the events that occurred there, they serve as a link between the Manors beyond the Speakers of Pillar Manors or the Listeners of other Houses.

“I desire to establish something like that here, in this sadaq. I expect that all major decisions will be made with all four of us present, but I wish to have regular meetings just among ourselves. Both to learn more about each other and have means to resolve conflicts in a more private manner.”

Irje hummed, “That does sound like a good idea, especially now, when we are rather unfamiliar with each other. But there will be no pressuring or forcing anyone to stay or leave. We will all come out of our own volition and talk like members of one sadaq or don’t speak at all. And If I feel it necessary I will get Erf involved.”

“Agreed, that is something anyone of us should do.” She confirmed, seeing Yeva nod as well.

Good, she had her way in. With this alone, her task for today was done. In time, they should stop fearing her title as much and start seeing her as one of them. And, once the walls of mistrust would be broken, she could talk to them with reason about much more crucial aspects of this relationship. All Anaise needed was patience and, as a wermage, she had plenty of it.

Twenty days should suffice.

“Then I would like to start now,” Irje interrupted her thoughts. “We have discussed this between ourselves but that was before you joined. Children.”

She felt a cold bead of sweat roll down her back. Anaise was definitely not ready for this kind of conversation. “W-what about them?”

“I am aware that we need to wait until we all are proclaimed free or subordinate. None of us wishes to have them slaveborn. Even if yours would technically not be. But as his first, I want to have his first child.” The cougar wer forcibly proclaimed as if daring her to say anything otherwise.

“To think that I would even consider something this soon!” Anaise exclaimed in a high pitch, incredulous at the accusation. “I am turning twenty within days! As a wermage, I am not planning to have one before I turn at least fifty or even seventy!”

Her tail swished with indignation, the nerve of some people.

“But you are fine with me having the first? Even if it might be a firstborn daughter.”

“Ah, that.” She sighed, “Yes, that would be appropriate.”

Irje frowned, “Despite knowing that firstborn will have the right to claim all that is his?”

“I believe that I could support my own and give them titles of my own. Yes, Erf would grow in wealth considerably in the future but that doesn’t mean I won’t grow as well.” Anaise sniffed, “If you worry about it that much — you should worry about Yeva instead.”

“Still, you are wermage while he is a murk without a Spark. Do you even plan on having his children?”

“I do not know, yet.” She looked away, “As I said, this is not something I had thought about, until today. Wermages don’t sire offspring that early, despite the Heat. We have other things to worry about. Just like you worry about slaveborn, I wish for my future children to be born in wealth and safety. Something that takes time to build.”

Anaise turned back and looked her straight into the eyes, “My mother was waiting for your child all this time, curious about the strength of his seed. I will follow her advice and do the same. And when your child is born I will discuss my choice with him.”

XXX

I stood at the entrance of the room, slack-jawed. My eyes greedily took in the visage of an alien lifeform. Its body, suspended in midair and occupying most of the space inside. So drastically different yet so undeniably familiar.

“This creature was slain by Domina herself,” Sulla spoke beside me, “During her time on border duty.”

Aikerim…I knew you were strong, but.

Damn, girl.

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