We walked well into the night before finding reprieve. The time was spent with me getting 'caught up' with current affairs from fat man, whose name I learned was Thornton. Narrow eyes, named Constable, was Captain of the Sanct, who are the guard that are trained to protect the Temple of the Divine and its leaders, as well as form the top rank of the military. Thornton was a member of The Council, which were a group of 12 men that governed the land in the absence of a Divine person, and acted as advisors for the Divine when present. They were originally out in the wilderness to complete the final leg of training for some Sanct initiates; a live battle with a dangerous beast of some kind. Each initiate had to hunt down their choice of one of several deadly beasts. If they are able to satisfactorily fell one of the beasts, they pass their exam and become formal members of the guard.
I also learned the scary man, as well as all the other horned men, had no names. Sometimes a human caretaker may give them a name, but otherwise they were nameless beasts. I questioned why, and was just met with the response of, "They may have names amongst themselves for all anyone knows, but they are not worthy to be officially named unless deemed so by someone who is. They are but servants of the divine, and that's all they will ever be."
Subsequently, these peoples' oppression was so great, they weren't even allowed to speak! I asked why all of them hadn't said a word, thinking it was just some military obedience thing. The people around this place thought of them so lowly, that it was an insult for a Drath to utter anything in the presence of a human. It caused me to feel guilty for thinking they all had the personality of a wet noodle. I wondered what kind of people they were behind the mask they were forced to wear…
The moon in the sky was high when we arrived at a sort of cabin deep into the woods. I was exhausted, having had to have been carried by scary man most of the way. The wounds on my legs kept tearing and bleeding, causing me a lot of pain and to lag behind the rest of the group. It made me feel useless and weak, though scary man seemed to have more of a problem with me trying to be independent than letting him carry me–anytime I’d ask him to put me down and let me walk, he’d pick me back up after only a moment.
The cabin itself was huge, three stories tall with many windows. Some windows were dark, others had dim flickering light indicating a flame. What would be the foyer of the cabin was brightly lit, however, illuminating the front of the building like a beacon. Off to one side was a large barn, which was completely dark inside. Surrounding the entirety of the back of the property was a fence reaching up to the second story of the cabin, made out of huge staked logs like what you would see in a medieval fort.
Inside, the entire first floor looked to be common area. A bar sat on one side filled with tables and chairs, wooden mugs lining a cabinet next to seven large barrels with spouts. The other side had a fireplace, with some comfortable yet worn armchairs and ottomans. Everything was lit by fire-filled lanterns that gleamed unusually bright, though I couldn't tell if they were powered by gas or candles. I couldn't see a wick, but I also had trouble believing a place this far in the middle of nowhere had gas lines.
The very center of the room held a small kiosk, where a young man stood reading a book. He looked up when he heard the door open, and frowned when he saw us.
"I don't want any more trouble," he said, holding up his hands. "Please leave."
Constable, having led our little caravan, crossed his arms and opened his mouth to speak, when Thornton hurried forward and began whispering to him. The man in the kiosk looked at him incredulously when he was done speaking, then locked eyes with me. "A woman?" he asked.
Thornton nodded, and gestured generally toward me as he said, "And she is injured, do you have any healers about?"
"I'm afraid not," the young man replied. "I barely have enough hands to gather the resources for the Inn. One of my Drath took a healing course some time ago, I could see if she still has any knowledge in her. It's better than nothing. In the mean time, here are your keys for your rooms. It's on the house this time, pending no more broken furniture." He glared at Constable.
The young man handed the keys over to Thornton and then scurried off, and he began to distribute keys. He handed Constable a key, whom promptly headed up a staircase off to the left without a word to anyone else. He then handed the next key to me, and there was one final key he pocketed into his robe. I looked over at the group of young men, then back at Thornton. "What about them?" I asked.
"Oh, no, Drath do not need accommodations. They will be fine sleeping on the ground, or in the barn if the horses will have them."
I gawked at him. "You don't even give these people a roof over their heads?"
He gave me a curious look. "You really aren't familiar with anything here? Where is it you originate from? Or maybe you perhaps have amnesia?"
"Florida," I answer plainly.
"Is that part of the Eastern Empire?" he asked quizically.
I just stare at him blankly, not processing what it is he said. "The what? Do you mean like China or something? Because surely you know which state Florida is, it's our county's southernmost state. It's only several hundred miles from here. Please tell me you're joking with me."
"Oh, do you mean the State of Fauna? Their people still follow The Divine practices, so I don't see how you would have gone this far without being accustomed to our ways…”
I just stared at him with an open mouth, trying to think of what to say. I was starting to get a sinking feeling I wasn't in the United States anymore, or that I inhaled some spores from the luminescent fungus from the cave and was having a seriously realistic trip.
"Regardless, we can recoup in the morning when hopefully you have rested enough. Your guardian will assist you in getting situated." Thornton then waved away the other young men, who exited out the front to scramble and find their places to rest, and waddled up a different staircase to the right.
The young man from the kiosk returned at this time with a young woman that looked to be my age, maybe 27 at most. She had the same distinct eyes as the soldiers in our group. They seemed to glow, almost, a soft and gentle blue against black sclera. Her horns were small and wound into compact curls, making me think of cute little cartoon sheep I used to watch as a kid. Her hair was in a short bob, clearly cut hastily and with little skill, and the clothes she wore were so worn, I wouldn't be shocked if it was the only set she owned. It was abundantly clear to me that EVERYONE saw Drath as beneath them at this point, and they were certainly akin to slaves around these parts.
He motioned her toward me, and she did a deep curtsy for me before timidly approaching. Her eyes and hands simultaneously went to the cuts on my legs. Her fingertips gently caressed the surface of the wounds, like a feather brushing over my skin, but the cut on my thigh in particular made me wince and grunt as she examined it.
Scary man immediately tensed and let out a loud growl at her, which made her wince and shrink back from me. I put a hand on his chest and pushed to get him to back up, but of course it was like trying to push a brick wall. He didn't move. "Bro, chill," I said, annoyed. "I'm fine, let her do her thing." I turned back to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, he's just tired and grouchy. Ignore him."
The young woman's eyes flashed to the towering hulk I still felt standing behind me, then back to my wounds that she slowly started to feel again. After a moment, she reached into a small pouch tied to a belt around her waist and pulled out a small glass jar and several strips of fabric. She dipped the fabric in whatever was in the jar and began gently dabbing it onto the cuts.
It. Fucking. Hurt. Like she was literally rubbing fire into my wounds. I just couldn't help but let out a loud cry. I immediately felt scary man tense again and I threw my hand back and placed it on his chest to hold him at bay. "It just hURTS, I SWEAR IT'S FINE," I said through an increasingly tight grimace.
The young lady began working quicker as she noticed scary man becoming more and more unsettled with my discomfort. She finished just as I was sure he couldn't hold himself back anymore, and he immediately relaxed as she backed up to the man that worked for the inn.
"It's not much, but it will keep infection at bay," he said with a crooked grin. "We are at your service, Your Grace. Please let me know if there is anything at all you need." He grabbed a stack of assorted linens from behind the kiosk and handed them to scary man, then bowed and motioned toward the stairs, which I took as our invitation to head to the room I was allotted. I looked at my key, which had a tag on it with letters I couldn't recognize and the number 4. Seeing as I couldn't recognize this place's made up language, I handed the key to scary man and gestured for him to lead the way. He bowed to me slightly and began the ascent to the room.
The rooms were labelled with the numbers, so in reality I likely could have found the room myself, but the odd lettering on the tag threw me off. Scary man unlocked the room for me and opened the door, stepping aside like a true gentleman to let me in first. I hobbled my way in, taking in the quaint style. It wasn't a super large room, but it had a decent sized queen bed with comfortable looking dressing, a stand mirror, a bedside table and a large wooden chest that sat at the foot of the bed. I turned to look at scary man, who began closing the door to take his leave.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on," I said, yanking the door back open. "Where are you going?"
He looked at me blankly for a moment, then sat on the ground outside of the room, beside the door.
"Oh, no, I don't think so. Get in the room."
Scary man didn't move.
"What happened to 'following The Divine's orders'?" I asked him snarkily. "I said get your butt in here, I’m not staying in this room by myself.”
He then immediately got up and entered, standing awkwardly in the center of the room.
I looked over him, a heavy feeling of pity welling up inside of me. He had probably never been offered an actual room before, never had a jolly conversation with someone...all his people ever knew was work and obedience, it seemed. While his armor seemed well kept, his face had small red scars that flecked his skin indicating he was a seasoned warrior. All in all, he was a handsome guy after you got past his intense aura.
"Do these people treat you badly?" I asked in a lowered voice. “Do they hurt you?”
Scary man looked at me blankly.
"Listen," I started. "I’m not like these people. You are allowed to speak to me. I WANT you to speak to me. I understand you are used to not being allowed to say anything, but I am asking you to please talk to me. The way these other people are treating you isn't right. I want to help."
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There was a long heavy silence as he regarded me and my words, and finally he spoke. "If it is your will, Your Grace, it shall be so." His voice was deep and silky, and it threw me off as I was expecting something more husky or burly. It had a depth that echoed through me, and despite being soft it still boasted a sense of power.
I sighed in relief that they hadn't simply cut out his tongue. "Excellent. Let us start with formal introductions, then. My name is Suzanna, what's yours?"
"My name is what you will it to be, Your Grace," he said, bowing.
"No, no, no,” I snapped. “One, stop calling me that. I'm not this divine being you think I am. I'm not your queen or whatever. My name is Suzanna. Second, I know you have a name. Not one some random person gave you, your REAL name, the one you got from your mom.”
He kept his eyes on the ground and thought silently before answering me. "My mother called me Valthorix, before I was culled."
"Oh, that's a wicked cool name," I said excitedly. "It sounds so mysterious, too. I like it!" I hobbled over to the bed and patted it. "Why don't you take off your armor and lay down? I'm sure you're tired."
Valthorix tried to hide a very confused look at me. "...on the bed?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah? Where else do people sleep?"
"My kind are not permitted luxuries," Valthorix stated. "It is forbidden."
I rolled my eyes. "Theoretically, I am your boss, right?"
"You are the only authority that exists here, Your Grace. Your will is my bond, your words the only law."
I clapped my hands together excitedly. "Excellent. Not my pleasure to hear, but I can make that work. So, I'm the boss, I make the rules now, right?"
He nodded at me.
"New rule, then. You sleep on a bed."
He opened his mouth I assumed to protest, but nothing came out. I smirked, knowing there wasn't any way he could object to an order from the deity he thought I was. I may not like how whipped he was, but I could use that to my advantage until he was able to come out of his shell and stand up for himself. Once that happened, I hoped it would spread like wildfire among all of them and they'd gain their independence.
"Excellent, now do as I say and get out of that uncomfortable getup and start to relax. And I mean RELAX. You're not getting up for anyone or anything but yourself." I took the linens he had been carrying and put them in the trunk that sat at the foot of the bed, and noticed a set of towels among them. My eyes brightened and I picked one up, holding it so Valthorix could see it. "Are these for showers? Do they have showers here?"
"We occasionally have rain showers, yes, but those are specifically for the springs, Your Grace."
I clenched my jaw. "My name is Suzanna. Where are the springs then? I would like to wash off all this blood." He began walking towards the door, and I tutted him. "I said you're supposed to relax. Just tell me where they are."
"Your Gr-Lady Suzanna, it is my duty to protect and serve you. I must not leave your side."
I rubbed my face in exasperation. "Okay, baby steps then. I'll tell you what, we'll go together, and you can wind down in the spring before sleep." With that, I motioned for him to lead the way.
He brought me downstairs and out a large set of doors that led to the back of the property. I could tell the giant fence was to enclose several hot springs that spanned a few acres of the land so they were strictly for the use of the inn's patrons. Each spring was partitioned off so every group could have some privacy, and I chose the one farthest from the door. I sat on the edge of the spring and took one of the towels, dipping it in the warm water, and then began to wipe the blood and grime off of my body.
Valthorix stood behind me and just watched, and after a few moments I sighed and gave him an annoyed look. "I told you to relax, my guy. Take the armor off, chill in the water, get some R and R."
He hesitated, then began stripping. Each piece of armor hit the ground with a loud thud, and I began going back to cleaning all the nasty crud off. Valthorix then passed by me, entering the water, and I realized that he had no actual clothes on under the armor. So he was completely naked. I froze, trying extremely hard not to blush, and tried to think of what needed to be done next.
"So, uh, they don't give you anything to pad your skin under the armor?" I asked, slightly shakily.
Valthorix shook his head. "My flames would char them, it would be a waste."
I bit my lip. He was going to come out of there at some point, and while he was most certainly a LOT to look at, I wasn’t used to having a live show. I honestly didn't think he'd get in there butt-naked, but I guess I did say to take the armor off and get in, and that's exactly what he did…
A woman Drath walked by, carrying a basket full of things that looked to restock the spring alcoves. Soaps, wash cloths, and what looked to be fragrance oil. "Excuse me, do you work here?" I called to her as she passed.
She craned her neck to look over at who was calling, then quickly scurried over and bowed for me.
"Am I allowed to ask for a set of new clothes? For him," I clarified, pointing over at Valthorix.
The woman stared at me blankly, and I could tell my request confused her.
"He smells," I whispered to her. "I don't like them when they're stinky. And we’ll probably need some more of whatever you have there.”
She emptied her basket next to me, did another quick bow and hurried off. I hoped it meant that she would be back with what I requested. In the mean time, I went back to painstakingly cleaning around my wounds, careful not to wipe off any of the medicinal cream that had previously been applied. I also began to make conversation with Valthorix. I wanted to know what this place we were heading to was like. I also wanted to know more about him and his people.
He spoke of the Temple of the Divine, which was home for The Divine, the members of The Council, and contained the barracks for the Sanct. It also contained a hall where people could come to physically worship The Divine. He also spoke about the sheer size of the city itself; it was the capital of the country, and was one of the largest cities in the world. Many come there seeking salvation or refuge, and it was also the world's largest trade port.
When I asked of his life, his family, his past, he simply said he could not remember much. They sell the children of Drath fairly young so they can learn their trade, then get sold again when training is complete to the highest bidder. A long silence had settled when the young woman returned with a mound of worn clothing, though to the touch it seemed like soft and comfortable material. I thanked her and she went on about her duty.
I tossed some of the soap and a wash cloth over to Valthorix. "Get clean. You'll feel better and sleep nicely."
I focused on cleaning myself while he did his thing, and used the reflection of the still water to fix my face and hair. My blond curls were in complete disarray, and had small sections that were matted with some dried blood. As I scrubbed the blood out and tried to smooth the frizz, something about my eyes in my reflection caught my attention. At first, they were just the same bright emerald they had always been. After a moment, the color seemed to swirl and become cloudy. But just like that, they returned to normal. Did that really happen, or was I seeing things?
I of course finished before he did, even with the painstaking amount of time I took to clean my hair. I took the opportunity to step to the other side of the partition while he hastily clothed himself, and heaved his armor onto his shoulder to haul back to the room. When we got back, I let him pick his spot on the bed, which he unshockingly took up most of, and then took position on the other side and drifted off to sleep.
At some point, I woke up freezing my butt off. It hadn't been so cold when we first arrived, but the temperature took a steep drop sometime after falling asleep. The covers were thick, but not thick enough to hold in enough heat, apparently. I looked over at Valthorix, and he seemed to be sleeping soundly. I gently scooted closer to him, and his glorious warmth radiated off of him under the covers that made it like a heated blanket. Nothing makes you sleep better than a cold room and a heavy warm blanket.
The sun shining into my face woke me up the next morning. I felt like I had slept well, but my legs were so stiff from the wounds trying to scab over. I shifted to get more comfortable and noticed that Valthorix had ended up with an arm around me sometime in the night. As I moved, he removed his arm from around me and regarded me blankly.
"Thank you for keeping me warm last night," I said shyly.
He nodded and got out of the bed and began to strip. I immediately threw the covers over my head to give him privacy, waiting until I was sure he put the last piece of armor on to get out of bed myself. He sure wasn't shy, was he?
There lay a pile of clothing on the chest at the end of the bed, and Valthorix held his hand out to draw my attention to it. "Are they clothes for me?" I asked.
Valthorix nodded and held it up so I could see it was a simple dress that looked handmade out of cotton. "The owner of the inn wishes it to be an offering of peace," Valthorix said. "He dropped it off when the sun rose."
He set the dress down and reached for me, and I could tell he was going to try to assist me in dressing. "No, no, no, I got it," I choked out.
I did a modest style change, putting the dress on first and removing my old clothes from underneath. After we were both fully ready, we headed downstairs to see everyone over at the bar. The Drath were just standing there, quietly awaiting orders, and Constable was complaining to Thornton loudly about everything he could think of.
"You've nearly wasted the whole day," Constable spat at me.
Thornton huffed. "Thy Grace was in a terrible state, she needed her rest."
Constable rolled his eyes at him. "If The Divine is such a highly regarded being, they would be a little more sturdy, I'd think."
"The Divine is made out to be what we need in our current time," Thornton replied. "Only a handful of Divine have been strong or swift, and they were so because we were in times of war. Be thankful that is not the case now."
"You could also have woken me up if you were in that much of a hurry to leave," I added. "Or better yet, I would have been just fine if you left without me."
Constable grunted. "A little late now for hindsight. They made you food. Take it, and let us move. We have several days of travel yet still.”
A Drath woman brought me a large plate with an assortment of of fruit, cheeses and bread, and a small separate plate of cooked meat. The meat was rather bland, and after a bite or two decided I didn't like the game-y taste it had. I looked up at Valthorix, who had sat himself next to me at the small table we were given, realizing they had not fed him. Of course they don't feed them either, they probably have to go and hunt for their food like savages…
I transferred the meat onto the large plate as Valthorix seemed to interest himself in another group of male guests that seemed rather rough. They kept throwing us wary glances and muttered amongst themselves, which seemed to agitate him greatly and put him on edge. Once I had the plates arranged to my satisfaction, I pushed the large one over to him, making sure almost all of the food was given to him. I left myself a small piece of bread, two pieces of what looked to be dates, several grapes and a few cubes of the assorted cheeses. He was a growing boy, after all, and it wasn't like I couldn't stand to lose a few pounds.
Valthorix snapped out of his fixation on the other group at the sound of the plate scraping across the wooden table, and looked at me quizzically after he studied it for moment.
“You need to eat, too,” I said quietly. I handed him my utensils since what I left for myself were finger foods.
He regarded me with a blank expression for a moment, which I assumed had some sort of mixture of gratitude and amazement, and then proceeded to pick up the entire assortment of cooked meat (which were pre-cut into bite sized chunks) with one hand and shoved it into his mouth. I watched with wide eyes as this man basically inhaled the entire plate of food I gave him in mere seconds.
After I watched him swallow the last bit of food and stare back at me silently, I looked down at the remaining food I had on my plate, then back at him. “Are you still hungry…?” I pushed my plate slightly toward him as an offer.
He put up a hand to turn my offer down. “I can hunt my own nourishment, you need to keep your strength,” he said as quietly as possible.
I gave him a look and made a motion to my entire body. “I'm clearly not starving to death.”
“Females need much more to keep them healthy,” he responded. “You may not be as small framed as others, but going without will make you susceptible to illness. Please, eat your strength, Your Grace.”
I shot him a dirty look at the ‘Your Grace', and he shrank back slightly.
“Lady Suzanna,” he corrected sheepishly.
I left out a ‘pft’ at him and started picking at my own plate, deciding to eat only the cheese and packing the rest into a linen cloth to take with us. Valthorix didn't seem pleased at the meager amount of food I consumed, but I figured I'd get snackish on the road, and despite the ordeal I'd been through, was not very hungry at the moment.
Valthorix whipped his head back around at the group of men that caught his attention earlier, and a low, guttural growl bubbles out of him. I followed his gaze to see the men starting to make their way over to us. The most burly of the group led them, and as they got close enough I could smell that they reeked of B.O. and who knows what else. I tried to cover my nose discreetly, and it didn't help. I ended up leaning into Valthorix’s freshly washed hair and tried to inhale the smell of the soap he used to clear my sinuses.
“What's this?” He said in a sauntry voice, his stank breath seeming to permeate through the very fabric of existence. “A pretty thing like you being so nice to a Drath? And a misbehavin’ one at that.” I could essentially hear a scraping noise as he raked his eyes away from me to fall onto Valthorix, who seemed to be trying to make himself larger as to be a shield between myself and these thugs. “I'd think your trainer would have taught you to respect your masters enough to keep your mouth shut. No one wants to hear the worthless thoughts in that head of yours.”
I leaned away from Valthorix slightly so I could glare at them, making sure to keep his hair over my nose. I wouldn't be conscious if there wasn't some sort of filter from the smell. “He had no mad-ter,” I said through my clenched nose. “He is his own perdon. And I want to hear hid thought-d. I like him.”
All of them erupted into a caucus of laughter. “My dear, all Drath live to serve the people. We are all his master. If you like, I could demonstrate by ordering him to spread you for me. I can share more interesting thoughts with you than this thing can.”
Valthorix immediately stood, taking my air filter with him, and grabbed the smelly man by his collar. He lifted and slammed him into the table we sat at. The man’s lackeys stared in disbelief as their leader crashed straight through the table and then through the floorboards, now a heap amongst splintered wood. Smelly groaned, signaling he was still alive but likely down for the count.
“Hey, you can’t assault someone, you dirty quad,” one of the remaining men spat. He lunged for Valthorix, followed by the rest of the men. They all tried to grapple him at once, and it was slightly comical to see four average sized men trying to bring down this 6’6” tank.
Grabbing one of the men by the back of his neck, he lifted him effortlessly so that their eyes were level. The man slowly dropped his look of anger as he took in the emotionless stare (of what I imagined to myself as being rage) Valthoric kept his face painted with.
I leapt up and put a hand gently on Valthorix’s arm. “Please, no more hurting,” I said quietly. “Violence isn’t the only answer to anger.”
He looked over at me, not loosening his grip on the man. “No one speaks like that to the Divine,” he growled. “They are not worthy.”
I snorted. “That’s what got you mad? I thought for sure it was because they got too close to you with their stank.” I patted his arm. “Let him go then. That’s not worth the bill you’re gonna give the ol’ cap for breaking the inn’s table.”
My personal tank reluctantly released his captive, and they scrambled to dig their smelly friend out of the buckled floor boards. They had to literally drag him away, a trail of splintered wood following behind them as it fell off his clothes.
