Chapter 11: Freedom

The pavilion located in the southern end of Koringrath made for quite the relaxing locale. With one of the great oceans only a few miles west, the salty breeze could be both felt and smelled off the occasional wind.

Sehn sat with his five other traveling companions. He shot each of them a look of disgust, which they deserved. Once again Cah’lia was trying to order him around. The way things were going, he might really have to smite her.

“Sehn, at least take a few bites,” she said. “This food was expensive.”

They were sitting in one of the finest eateries Sehn had ever seen. Elvar did not offer much in the way of staff-run eating locations, with most venders preferring to sell their food out of small kiosks. But in the Human-run Koringrath, these types of waiter-based eateries were a common sight.

The diamond shaped marble tables were enclosed in a vast dome. From the ceiling down to the floor, the building was held aloft by stone pillars, and pristine glass windows let in the morning light. It was quite decorative, and Nero had almost passed out upon first seeing it.

“I did not ask you to order me food, Cah’lia,” Sehn said. “I will accept it, however, as the first of your many offerings to the Great Sehn. But next time get me something I actually want.”

Cah’lia looked ready to spring out of her chair. “Sehn, you haven’t eaten anything aside from that ridiculous fruit since we arrived here. Eat some of your food!”

Sehn let out his mightiest laugh. Did the foolish woman know nothing?

“Cah’lia, I have become so powerful over the last few years that my body no longer requires nutrition. Now, you can either remain silent, or I can—”

Sehn was cut off as a breadstick was shoved in his face. He fumed with outrage and anger as he curled his nose at Cah’lia. He devoured the admittedly good-tasting food in two quick bites, a display of his power, before turning his murderous eyes on the Elven woman.

“So, Cah’lia, you wish to die today, do you?”

“Sehn,” she said, a grin forming. “Rillith and Daniel have eaten all of their food, and they ordered huge portions. In fact, even Nero ate about as much as them. Do you know what this means? It means that they are the champions of eating. I think I even heard them mumble something like, ‘We’re only eating this much to prove we’re better at eating than Sehn’ or something like that.”

Sehn worried his heart would explode. “What! So they wish to engage in open quantity-warfare with the Great Sehn! Hah! I shall devour every last morsel and then some. Step aside, Cah’lia. It’s eating time.”

Twenty minutes later, when they emerged from the pricey but classy eatery, Sehn felt as if he was going to be sick.

But at least I won, he thought clutching his bulging stomach.

They walked together through one of the less dense merchant areas, stopping to examine items of interest. Patrick eyed a new blade, while Daniel and Rillith made rounds inspecting the wares of tailoring merchants, examining the fine cloth that could be found in Koringrath.

They split up soon after. Nero decided to drag Cah’lia off on some ungodly shopping spree, and Sehn was stuck following behind. People scrambled in and out between shops. Some stood around merchants for just a moment before walking away with a new item, while others spent hours haggling, buying, and selling.

Sehn decided to venture off on his own, walking aimlessly. For as long as he could remember, whether he was in the trade district in Elvar or roaming the paved streets of Koringrath, he preferred to let his mind wander as he took in the sights. He had found some of his most prized items this way, by walking at random and seeing something he liked.

In the corner of his eye, he saw the gleam of a reflection as it bounced off a metal item. Sehn turned and walked toward the shop from where this shining object originated. He recognized the strange, ball shaped items on display. The merchant smiled as Sehn approached the booth.

“Greetings, Elf, are you a fan of the throw and catch?”

Sehn ignored him and eyed the wares. Nero had been going on forever about the Dwarven engineered throw and catch. The children’s toy looked uncomplicated, yet the Dwarves seemed to be the only beings in the world that could make them. It was quite simple, really. The small ball would stick to the fuzzy catcher and could be thrown back. Two people would toss the object back and forth, and it was supposedly fun. To Sehn, it looked ridiculous, but maybe if he bought it for the little Elf, Nero would stop bugging him so much. Sehn could play the game from horseback and probably even in his sleep. Perhaps it would keep Nero occupied.

“How much?” Sehn asked.

“Not much one for small talk, are you Elf? I like that. So, what say you we skip the normal negotiating phase and cut to the chase. Three thousand Elvens.”

Sehn cursed under his breath. It was the last of his money. He slammed the coins on the desk, grabbing the two balls and catchers before walking away.

Whatever, he thought. Once I have acquired the great treasure I shall have enough money to buy this entire city.

As Sehn left the merchant behind him, he wondered where he should go next. He only made it one step—and stopped. His legs wouldn’t move.

“Odd,” Sehn said aloud, attempting yet another step. But still his feet would not move. He tried for the third time to make his stubborn legs cooperate, and then gasped as a sharp pain rushed to the front of his mind. He stumbled and dropped to his knees.

Unexplainable emotion soared into him with such furious haste that Sehn felt the desire to weep. It was a sensation of warning. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. It made him tremble, and he dropped the toy he’d bought for Nero on the paved ground.

What is this, what’s happening!

A picture began to form in his head, a vivid, detailed description. It was so unmistakable that it was almost as if it was occurring directly in front of him. Nero was dead, lying on the ground. Cah’lia was kneeling over his bloody body, tears streaking from her face.

Somehow, through some means Sehn did not understand, he knew for certain that within five minutes Human time, the scene in his mind would become a reality.

He did not have time to rationalize. He did not have time to make up a manly excuse. He could do both later. With strength even he didn’t think he possessed, he jumped back to his feet and charged through the crowded street like a madman, sprinting with a vigor and speed that forced people to move aside.

*****

Nero was excited. There was so much fun stuff to see and do here. Cah’lia insisted on holding his arm as he led her through all the neat stuff they had for sale in the market: toys, both Dwarven and Human, from lands Nero didn’t know existed. There were even some Elven toys Nero had never seen before.

“Cah’lia, I want all of it!”

“Nero, pick a few. You can’t have every last one of them.”

Nero felt his ears wobble, even at the thought of having just a few. Merchant’s from all around gave them friendly and welcoming looks, each hoping to be on the receiving end of his sisters coin.

How do they know I’m not gonna be the one to pay? Nero thought grumpily.

At first, the Great Sehn had forbidden Nero from playing with toys, but Cah’lia had managed to convince him to extend the age cutoff until he was tenth-seasoned. Nero had tried to negotiate it to fifteen, but Sehn had threatened to disembowel him, so he’d dropped the issue.

Something just off in the distance caught his eye. “Hey, sis, how come those people over there have price tags on them like the toys?”

For some reason, Cah’lia frowned and her eyes filled with worry as she grabbed Nero’s shoulders and turned him to face a different direction.

“Don’t worry about that, Nero. Just look at all the fun stuff here.”

“But, Cah’lia,” Nero asked. “How come their clothes are so worn and dirty? How come they are bruised and have price tags?”

Nero didn’t understand why, but his sister appeared deeply troubled. “Maybe we should come back later,” she said, “when they have moved on. Come, Nero.”

Nero moaned, “But what about—”

Cah’lia cut him off. “I’ll buy you one extra thing later, but let’s go for now, okay?” She smiled, but Nero had the sense it was forced.

He put down the toy he was examining and decided to follow his sister. Before he took his first step, he caught sight of something that made him cringe. A small girl, perhaps only just a season or two—years, as the Human men called it—older than him was knocked to the ground with a rough-handed smack across her face.

The girl, in torn and worn clothing, cried as she apologized to the man who had hit her. He was a large muscular Human, with a massive physique and short brown hair. He adjusted the price tag around the small Human girl’s neck and growled at her.

“No one’s going to buy you if you keep crying like a baby, Rina.” He slapped the girl again, and she sank to her knees. “Quit your crying! Or I promise you I’ll make it hurt more.”

The girl shrieked, and the man hit her again. Nero transitioned in an instant from disbelief to raw anger.

“Hey!” Nero yelled. Before Cah’lia could stop him, he ran towards the mean man with his fists raised.

Nero stopped a few feet in front of the trembling girl and her assailant. The man scowled at him. “What do you want, Elf?” he asked with a powerful, rumbling voice. “I doubt you’re interested in my wares. Begone!”

At first, Nero wasn’t sure what he meant. But eyeing the small, bruised Human girl, the realization dawned on him.

“Did you just call that girl one of your wares? That’s a person, stupid!”

“Listen, you little rodent. I acquired this one through all the proper channels, and I’ve even got me the paperwork on hand. So bugger off, lest you taste the cold edge of my steel.” He pointed at his sharp sword. ”I don’t go easy on lads simply because they’re young.”

Nero spat in the man’s face, before Cah’lia showed up with the biggest look of worry he had ever seen on her. “Nero!” she called out, grabbing his arms.

“Get back here, now! That’s a Drashian Overseer, you fool, and they are above the law in Koringrath. I’m going to whip your rump so bad when we get back to the inn. Sir, I apologize if my little brother has caused any trouble.”

The man wiped the spit from his face, his eyes cold and promising death. “Your apology is not accepted, Elf-scum. This one has just spat in my face. To my people, that is among the most serious insults one can make. I demand either his head, or his person to be taken as my slave.”

Cah’lia’s eyes widened in terror. “Hold on a second,” she said. “There is no reason to take things this far. He’s just a boy.”

“I don’t care what he be, miss. For what he just done, I’ll take either his head or his service.”

Before the man could even reach for his weapon, Cah’lia’s dagger was already out, bright against the sun’s reflection. Nero watched as his sister charged at the man, blade held extended in front of her in killing position. She leaped at the man, who grunted in surprise as he held out his shoulder to shield his face. The dagger cut through his forearm, causing him to hiss.

In one swift motion, he grabbed Cah’lia by the back of the head and threw her to the ground. She landed on the pavement with a groan. Nero couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The man didn’t appear bothered by the gash in his forearm, and he strolled over to Cah’lia like a hunter approaching dying prey.

“No, that’s my sister!” Nero shouted. He tried to grab the man’s legs. They were like tree trunks. He was unable to slow the man, let alone stop him. Yet Nero must’ve caused him some annoyance, because he picked Nero up by the throat, causing Nero to wiggle his legs as he dangled midair, his oxygen cut off.

“You’ll fetch me a high price on the market, you will. Elven boys are in demand, be a shame to kill yas.”

Nero was certain he’d die. His body begged him for air. The man gripped even tighter and seemed to enjoy his pain.

“Well isn’t that odd,” said a voice from behind. The large man whirled around, dragging Nero midair by the throat with him as he turned. Nero worried his neck would snap.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone was trying to steal my disciple.”

Nero felt the pressure fade around his throat as he was dropped to the ground. He breathed in the fresh air through his oxygen-starved lungs and grinned. “Sehn!” he called, tears beginning to form.

The muscular man turned to the Elf. Sehn’s passionate green eyes burned with a deep hatred.

“Another Elf, huh?” the man spat. “You with this little brat? I sure hope so. Elven slaves be offerin’ the highest value.”

“Slave?” Nero didn’t think it was possible, but if Sehn’s eyes burned with a hatred before, then now they were an inferno.

“You dare to call the Great Sehn a slave, peasant!”

The overseer frowned. “Elf!” he shouted. “I am a Drashian Overseer. Do you have any idea of who you just called a peasant?”

Sehn laughed. It was a rueful, vulgar sound. “Oh? You’re a ‘Drashian Overseer’ are you? And that is what, exactly?”

The overseer laughed, his mirth doing a poor job of covering his rage. “Let me tell you a little something, pathetic Elf. Nothing in this world upsets a Drashian more than groundless insults. Perhaps as I am slowly ripping the skin off of your face, I’ll leave your vocal chords intact so you can apologize and beg for your unworthy life.”

“You dare make such threats of the Great Sehn! Perhaps I shall make you apologize while I am using your bones to create a fucking harp!”

All pretense of amusement left the two as the air thickened with violence. The overseer roared at Sehn, “Never in my life have I been insulted this way, Elf! I am going to delight in your suffering!”

The man unsheathed his sword, ignoring the trickle of blood spilling down his forearm. Cah’lia tried to yell something at Sehn, but her voice was an inaudible moan.

“I don’t know what a Drashian is,” Sehn yelled back, “but I’ve just decided that I fucking hate them!”

“Remmos Salas!” Sehn cried as a fireball sped towards the overseer.

What happened next shocked not only Nero, but judging from the gasps from both in front and behind him, Sehn and the barely conscious Cah’lia were equally as surprised. The fireball collided with the man, causing him to grunt, and even take a step back, but other than that, there was no apparent damage.

The overseer licked his lips. “I’ve got a few spell-wielding slaves, Elf. Don’t act so surprised.”

“Ah well, screw magic.” Sehn unsheathed his Elven blade.

Nero trembled in fear as the two prepared to face off.