Chapter 86: Twice Stung

Subject: Inis Location: Otemrest Borderlands - Trade Road The injection was ready. "This will be my second dose. Off the top of my head, confounding variables include dose buildup, Blight energy accumulation, differences in cognition, location, method of replenishing vira, and too many more to count. But my back is against the wall. There is one thing I should mention. I've used the most potent seed in my possession, with veins of deep orange and just as large as the last." The soft hum of the headset told her she was all set on memgel. Now that she was no longer hyper-focused on preparing the distilled blightseed concentrate, Inis could see that her travelling partner was staring slack-jawed. As he watched her level the needle to her flesh, he looked like he was going to try to stop her. But the promise he made kept him silent. He wrung the flesh on his wrinkled arms until it left marks. And yet, deep inside, there was a glint of interest. He did care for her, as a stranger could, but he also wanted to see what she was about to do. "The needle is loaded and the potion is ready. I wish I knew what was in this Hexknight's potion, for experimental integrity's sake. It could greatly affect the results. But I suppose this is no longer an experiment. It's desperation, and I cannot pass out from exhaustion. Begin." The needle went in painlessly, but that wasn't the part she feared. It was what immediately followed. Searing anguish. She howled into the trees until she could no longer hear her own voice. The bright sunlight burned her eyes in a different way, and she had to force herself to continue breathing. Focusing on each breath kept her sane. A dull *thud* alerted her to the potion falling from her spasming hand from involuntary muscle twitches. Inis reached out for the potion, helplessly, unable to even bring it to her mouth. The shaking fought to spill the contents of the life-saving brew. Wordlessly, or maybe soundless to her alone, Inis's partner supported her back and brought the potion to her lips. She greedily drank the ambrosia. "This is because you chose a potent vessel. Fight, Freeze, Flee. You've taught me the value of flight, of not killing what is not immediately useful to me. Now I know why they will run from us. You should run more often," a voice whispered in her inner thoughts. It was her own voice. Between shudders of pain, Inis could see mounted soldiers approaching from the side path she had prevented Mertalo from taking. They'd taken too long, and her screams had most likely drawn the impatient bandits in for the kill. Inis's eyes drifted closed while Mertalo was very animated, trying to bargain for her life. "He is weak. They will keep him alive for a time. You know this, so I know this." Where was that voice coming from? "She's some kind of addict noble... looks to be outta 'er mind. Bag 'er and drag 'er an' that strange wagon away. Keep the other one live. Could be 'er driver, could be a distant family. No matter what way, we'll need someone to kill as an example to make the trade go smooth." "Red, can I have--" "No you may not. Get a move on, we're too close to that damnable Arlcada to relax." "Rest. I'll protect you now," the voice whispered again. Subject: Mertalo Location: Otemrest Borderlands - Unmarked Trails "How in Pulse are we supposed to unload this junk!? I don't even understand what any of this stuff is and it's making me angry just thinking about how much of a waste of time this was!" The hotheaded bandit continued to rant and fume all the while, as they travelled in the direction of the wilderness camp. Inis and Mertalo were, of course, restrained and gagged. They travelled on sternen, which were large beasts of burden. Slow as a sterne was, it could carry a decent weight and uneven terrain didn't slow its long legs down. sternen had long horns protruding like handholds on either side, which they used to bash each other in mating competitions. The flesh of the creature was a sign of its kill count. This was because a sterne would consume the flesh of the loser of a duel, and it had the effect of hardening the skin and diluting the skin pigmentation, gradually transforming a newborn onyx to a ghoulishly studded ivory. Their behavior made their appearance all the more unsettling. The beasts could live longer than humans, but nearly a third of the population was domesticated. These bandits rode specimens in the upper tiers, meaning they'd either trained wild sternen that had already killed, or they'd pitted them against wild or captive sternen and allowed them to cannibalize the loser. Think, you old fool. They only look barely experienced enough to have survived this long. Not a lick of ambition, just survivors. I could probably take one, if I'm lucky. But I'd die soon after. "We don't choose what we catch. Accept it and move on. Who knows, maybe we'll find some use for it all, or maybe someone will pay for them." "We should just kill and release, and hunt down some more. She's pretty and all, but I don't like the empty look in her eye. Damaged goods." "We will not kill them unless we have to. You know how this goes. Now shut up and keep up." That's the way it was. Ex-mercenaries and really anyone with a criminal record that managed to get away from their work camps would end up in the wilderness. If they survived, the things they had to do changed them. If they weren't already the sort to take whatever they needed to live, they became that way. Or, they died sooner or later, the prey of the sort who were suited for the life. Mertalo was old and experienced. He'd seen more than a few undeservingly die to mercenaries, even if they didn't exactly deserve to live a long life, either. That contradiction lay at the heart of humans, faron, cartemi, and really most live things in general. "They could have at least brought us some new gear, Red. My blade's rusting, and come first frost I'll be swinging around a dagger." The man currently wore a longblade at his waist. Sheathed as it was, it was impossible to judge its present quality. Even so, Mertalo took the man's words into account when sizing up the situation. They'd captured their prey, so there was no need to lie. Inis can beat them. I know she can. The mage was not unconscious, though she didn't seem fully "aware", either. Her eyes stared off at nothing in particular, but she seemed to be paying attention to the argument happening around her. Perhaps she was patiently waiting for an opportunity. "That Grey will come through with new weapons like he always does. Supposed to be magitech, this time. And that other one? She will find us more lucrative targets. Meeting her will be a revolutionary turning point for us, just like I said." Who could they be talking about? Mertalo hadn't a clue. "You're using words I don't know again, boss," the lackey complained. "It means she will point us where we can make more coin, and faster at that. Be patient," the leader Red clarified. "Aye aye, 'nuff said." "Besides, didn't you say those other weapons had the 'military look'? I heard one of the people in the other clan say a knight ordered them to help with some hush-hush village extermination work to the South. What if this is proof that we are getting the chance to take their place." Government-sponsored attacks on the nation's own citizens. That sounded like the Shroud he knew. "Yes, that they did," the leader answered. "You all know how much trust I place in my eyes, right?" There were murmurs of agreement. "That woman was no knight. She carried herself like she was familiar with the blade, but she was also proper, like a lady. Knights can be nobles, but that lady was something else. Maybe she was the leader of the knight that met with the Kobalt Clan. But, this time, it will be Routhire Clan's chance to ride waves of blood to the South or, wherever there's killing and coin." A Hexknight? Could it really be that a Hexknight was giving the orders to these bandit clans? Boisterous cheers echoed through the wood for some time, and Mertalo took the opportunity to glance at Inis. She looked much the same, but something about the tensed muscles in her face left the impression that she was overcome with anger. Ironically, the trail was taking them closer and closer Mertalo and Inis's intended destination, a remote village where they hoped to meet up with a passing convoy travelling the lengthy journey to Maliscade. Fewer convoys seemed to be travelling that way nowadays, and those that did were laden with predictable merchant's supplies and bereft of citizens. This was all information Mertalo picked up by listening in at the usual watering holes and trade stalls. Passively absorbing the general flow of goods and people in Shroud was as natural as breathing now. It was a special group who had made him this way, and there wasn't a day that went by where he didn't wonder how their century-spanning mission was fairing. They told me to focus my attentions here, so that's what I'm doing. But they didn't expect anything from me because I wasn't "like them"... Mertalo didn't travel with them for a very specific reason. Firstly, he was but a boy when he travelled with them. Secondly, he was different. There were special people walking among mortals, and he was in the latter category. He had long since accepted his station. They'd left on good terms. Power was amorphous, and it didn't take being a mage like Inis here, to make a difference. These bandits would learn that today. Sure enough, after some time, Inis had begun to softly whisper to herself. Mertalo couldn't make out any words, what with her being crudely gagged and all, but her eyes shone with a comforting arcane brilliance. "Hey there, stop leaning on me or I can't focus on what little path there is to see," the underling riding with Inis complained. "What's going on?" a bandit called back to his companion. "Whore is passing out here. I think... she's..." The man slumped over on his sterne, slowly slouched drunkenly in his saddle. He managed to shake himself to alertness. "Why am I so... tired?" Inis's gagged whispering intensified, and she pressed her forehead hard into the man's back. The two of them slid along the sterne's left horn and toppled off their ride. The bandit leading Mertalo noticed the mishap and steered his steed over to the "accident" site. This was no accident. Inis had done something to him. "Get up you lazy drunkard. I told you not to drink when we're on duty. I said I'm not covering for you anymore." There was no response. Inis wasn't moving anymore. "Hey boss, Flayer's fallen asleep! The girl's out like a light too." "He's what?! Alright, we'll need to have the both of them each ride with someone else. You take his sterne back with you. Can you handle that?" "Yes, she is well trained. Almost want to thank those mercenaries we stole them from." "Feel grateful later when we're back at the camp. We're too close to the road. Besides, mine's the same way, and I think it only got more obedient after we had them butt heads with the mercenary's other steeds." Red stroked the scruff on his chin, admiring the bluish flesh of his mount. "Yes, boss." They roused Inis "awake" and continued on their journey. This incident repeated itself once more, with Inis's new rider falling off with her again. This time, knowing there was no hiding the signs of magic in her eyes, she closed them as she fell and pretended to have been knocked unconscious. Mertalo saw through the ruse, having the best seat to watch it take effect, he almost felt like laughing, but that would give away the game. These bandits didn't know Inis was a mage, so he wasn't worried in the slightest she'd overcome them. "Don't tell me he was drunk too..." "He wasn't, I swear!" another underling exclaimed. The leader looked around, peering into the trees all around them. "Someone's messing with us! Maybe they're watching right now?!" The bandits searched their immediate surroundings before turning up nothing. There weren't enough people to take the others back while herding the unmounted sternen this time, so they dismounted and began to discuss what to do next.