Chapter 2: Work-work

  “Careful sparky,” bellowed the outraged giant as I had nearly blown our target to smithereens.

  Above me perched on a high branch of a Benian tree, our scout—a fairy named Leera— was trying to weave a subtle illusion to guide our prey into our specially dug out trap.

  I had to keep cutting off its escape by lighting the part of the forest it was facing on fire. The last time, it had almost broken my blockade by leaping over the burning line, forcing me to launch explosive orbs to cut its escape.

  The giant on our team, Grog was our vanguard and tasked with corralling the beast into our trap. That part was proving especially challenging, as the golden boar was using its mighty tusks to keep flinging any branches and other debris it could scoop up at him.

  It would also occasionally use its tough snout in conjunction with its tusks to scoop out earth from the forest floor and dump it on the nearest fire in front of it, forcing me to keep lighting new fires.

  It was certainly living up to its fearsome reputation. No wonder its meat was considered such a rare and treasured delicacy by the nobility.

  In all the commotion, Leera had completed her illusion, which appeared like an opening—a relatively clear path for the animal to take where there were no tree roots or underbrush to slow it down or give it pause.

  The illusion had a shimmering sort of outline which was hard to miss for any viewer, but it was somewhat masked by the rippling heat and smoke from the forest fire I had ignited.

  Another three explosive orbs had lit up between my fingers. I blew into my hand launching them towards the rear of the animal. It was startled by the deafening explosions at its rear forcing it to charge along the ‘clear path’ pushing our resident giant to the side in the process.

  It didn’t go far before the forest floor gave out under its enormous weight and it collapsed in our disguised pit, leaving it dazed. I quickly created searing hot flames around the pit making sure to keep them going till they had consumed all the breathable air around the mighty beast killing it slowly from asphyxiation while leaving its body completely untouched.

  “Nicely done, team,” Grog said as he got up brushing some dirt and soot off the loincloth he wore. That was the only piece of clothing on his massive ten-foot-tall frame which was nearly half as wide as it was tall. That along with his crocodile leather boots, stone axe and tower-shield completed his ensemble.

  His grey skin was neatly camouflaged by the large amounts of soot which had deposited itself on him during the fight. His beard not so much as it had a lot of twigs sticking out at random.

  Leera floated down from her perch on her glossy, translucent wings. As a fairy, her wings allowed her to float and sometimes catch updrafts to launch herself higher in the sky, but true flight remained out of reach for her.

  Her wings melted into her back aided by the fact her battle dress didn't pose much obstruction to them. Her risqué ensemble had her wearing a front black coloured leather armour piece which was backless and had a plunging neckline. It was attached to her body by strategic metal chains. It struggled to contain her generous bust.

  Her long legs were wrapped in black fishnet armour and her modesty was protected by a vibrant red sash wrapped just below her waist. The drapes of the sash hung down her middle to just above her knees. The entire package was completed with black metal arm bracers and a quiver of arrows attached to her right leg.

  I remembered asking her why she dressed so provocatively on the battlefield. Her response—that she preferred her opponents be distracted by thoughts of bedding her rather than concentrating on disembowelling her—left me with a new appreciation for her chutzpah.

  That was the word I’d use to describe her: chutzpah. She confidently strode around in a country that, if not outright hostile, was at least ambivalent to her, labelling her a demi-human and calling her subhuman among much worse things behind her back. She made no effort to hide who she was, flaunting as much of her mulberry-pink coloured skin as possible without it entering the realm of being obscene. Her purple hair, in contrast to the rest of her scandalous exterior, was always cut in a boring boy cut.

  She sauntered over to Grog with a mischievous glint in her eyes and shared a heated kiss with him. Watching her pull the giant down to eye level by grabbing his family jewels through his loincloth had been mildly amusing if not slightly off putting.

  “Hey people, I’m still here. Can’t you two do this in private when you get back to your home?” I asked, my tone filled with aggravation.

  When the two of them had broken off from tasting each other’s tonsils, Leera turned to face me with a long-suffering sigh.

  “Ignore this prude, my love,” she said turning to Grog. “Someday, when she is old enough, she will appreciate a good snogging with her man.”

  My ears burned red from embarrassment. Leera had taken every opportunity to tease me about my apparent age and gender, feeling that a good hazing would get me out of my funk quicker than any long-drawn-out heart to heart could.

  I had been forced to tell them about my amnesia when a few too many obvious inconsistencies in my general knowledge had become apparent to the pair. They along with Eliza had really taken great pains to try and correct any obvious gaps in my basic knowledge. For that I would be forever grateful.

  Eliza, Leera’s mother, was nearly a century old and one of the most compassionate people I’d ever met. It baffled me how she could be related to Leera.

  Grog loudly cleared his throat, apparently just as embarrassed as me by Leera’s domineering personality. “I think we should hurry and get this boar to the Count’s estate right now. He wants it to be as fresh as possible for the grand celebration he is hosting.”

  I made sure to snuff out all the fires first by exerting my Will over them. Being in the middle of an abnormally hot and dry summer, I was worried even a few embers could snowball into a massive forest fire.

  We lifted the golden boar carcass and tied it to Grog’s tower shield with rope. Then I lifted the front side and he lifted the backside. I could barely manage to lift the thing even with Grog’s help.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  I teetered around precariously until Grog had adjusted the shield so that he was carrying it in his arms while i had it balanced on my head making him carry a major chunk of the package's weight which he didn't seem to mind at all.

  This was not the first time I was impressed by the giant’s physiology which made my gifted physiology look weak by comparison.

  Leera instead of helping was feeling up Grog’s taut muscles, making sure to cup his biceps and abs.

  "How you managed to get someone as supportive as Leera to fall for you is beyond me," I grumbled good-naturedly, adjusting the bundle to a more comfortable position. "Too bad she can't spare some of that support to help us out here."

  "Oh, there's nothing much to say, little sis. I’m a total size queen," she said mock-proudly, deflecting my criticism entirely. “And once you experience your first foot long there is no going back. Just ask mum.”

  I made exaggerated gagging noises, wishing I could cover my ears instead of balancing this heavy package on my head.

  “Too much information,” I complained. I could really have gone without the mental image of what Eliza and Grog got up to behind closed doors.

  That thought reminded me as to why Eliza wasn't here helping us and why I was needed as a temporary replacement in the first place. Eliza had been heavily pregnant when I had met her for the first time. When I realized who the father was, I had been downright concerned.

  To my knowledge cross species couplings never ended well. If they could breed at all the resulting hybrid was almost always deathly sick and infertile. It was why all religions without fail marked such a relationship as a taboo. In fact, incest would barely raise an eyebrow but an inter species relationship would have the entire neighbourhood in uproar and sharpening their pitchforks.

  No, I was exaggerating a bit, I guess. Because it was such a forbidden taboo, the wealthy and the powerful went to great lengths to acquire members of exotic species for their harems. Everyone knew the true meaning behind the words ‘maid servants’ -a veiled euphemism for something far more clandestine. Everyone just chose to close their eyes and pretend they believed the thin veneer of the lie. Nine times out of ten nothing ever came out of such a coupling. If a hybrid was ever produced on the off chance, it was quickly and quietly taken care off one way or another.

  The only exceptions were Gods who by their very nature as partly amorphous entities could breed freely with any and all species they chose to. That fact held true to a lesser extent for their children, the demigods too.

  I was still worried about Eliza and her little family unit. Though both Leera and Grog repeatedly assured me they were taking all possible measures to care for the fetus and its mother, maybe I should have a bit more faith. They had even managed to cajole the local count into hiring the services of a bona fide 'Life Mage' to check on Eliza regularly.

  It had been almost two weeks now that I had been working mostly as a sell-sword, or, if I wanted to put a more charitable spin on it, as an adventurer.

  Grog and Leera had certainly taken a chance with me. Although I suppose they would have sacrificed little if their gambit with me would have failed. I had certainly impressed them enough during my probationary period, so they must be feeling pretty good about themselves.

  We had been taking small jobs which could be completed in a day or two at most as Grog and Leera didn't want to leave Eliza home alone for long.

  Grog’s colossal ten-foot-tall frame had other advantages too; it kept their neighbours' nosiness at bay, especially since everyone knew the giant often worked as hired muscle for the local count.

  XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  As we trudged back to Guarai, with the giant boar tied up and hoisted between Grog and me, we were attracting more than a few curious glances from the locals travelling on the road. Luckily, we didn’t have to go through the long and laborious checks on entering the city through the eastern gates as by now the guards were quite familiar with us and the fact we regularly worked as the count’s temporary ranger force, tasked with guarding the roads to the city against brigands and other malcontents.

  The eastern gate was near the affluent district where the wealthy residents, including nobility, affluent merchants, and bureaucrats, resided. I was always struck by the contrast between this district and the general squalor of the remaining parts of the city. The duality of the impoverished and destitute living at the feet of the rich and powerful never failed to sour my mood. This scene felt so nostalgic that I had to wonder if I was hallucinating.

  Approaching the more crowded part of the district, two eager imps darted out from the narrower side streets towards us. Their tattered clothes and dirt-streaked faces were in stark contrast to the opulent surroundings.

  The younger boy reached us first, closely followed by the older one, who seemed to be trying to stop him. "Big brother, whatcha got there?" the younger one asked in a shrill, excited voice. His eyes were wide with wonder at the sight of the large animal we were carrying.

  The older boy placed his hand on the smaller one’s head and gave him a noogie in reprimand. “Don’t bother bro while he’s working, Kav,” he chided his fellow street urchin.

  I smiled at the energetic pair. “Hey kids, this boar is for the big man. Let us just drop this off, I’ll treat you guys to supper later, like I promised.”

  I remembered how I had stumbled across the duo begging on the streets about a week ago. They clearly had been doing very poorly. Not being part of any gang, the two orphans had been pushed out of the bazaar and had been left to fend for themselves in the posh residential area.

  The guards strictly enforced anti-panhandling laws in the wealthy district, undoubtedly at the behest of the elite. If I hadn't found the pair and taken them under my wing, they would have been carted off to a state-run orphanage within days. From there, they'd have eventually ended up on the frontlines of the Hundred Years' War.

  "See you later then, bro," the older boy said, dragging the bundle of energy away from the avenue. We were making a bit of a scene, and it was best not to attract the guards' attention.

  "Bye bye, big brother!" the little tyke waved happily as he was pulled around a corner and out of our sight.

  As the boys disappeared from view, Leera, who had been walking just behind me reached over and pinched my butt.

  “What was that for?” I complained. She had been none too gentle with her assault on my derriere.

  “You can barely look after yourself, little sis. How long are you planning to look after these munchkins?” she asked, poking me in the side.

  With a frustrated sigh, I stated, “As long as I can.” I couldn't do for them what my father had done for me, but I would try at least.

  Her unladylike snort clearly showed she was dissatisfied with my answer. “There are dozens of kids just like those two in the same boat in this city alone,” she pointed out “Are you going to try and play saviour for all of them next?”

  “If I am able to, then yes, I shall,” I replied firmly. This was hardly the first time I had heard this type of reasoning. But regardless, I would always be willing to lend a hand to anyone who asked for it.

  She clicked her tongue in frustration. “Little sis, innocence is deceptive. They cling to you because you are providing for them right now. If you are not able to in the future they won't hesitate to leave you on the wayside without a second thought.”

  ".......I know," I answered quietly. Leera needn’t have bothered expressing her misgivings regarding my actions. I was well aware that very few, if any, ever cared to remember or acknowledge my sacrifices for their sake. My father’s experience had been none too dissimilar from my own. Most people used to laugh at him behind his back, mistaking his kindness for some form of self-gratification. Some unscrupulous sorts would even try to take advantage of him, but he never gave in to resentment over that.

  “Alright, break it up, you two. You can discuss this later.” Grog’s voice was strained, likely tired of dealing with our constant sniping back and forth at each other.

  Grog's reprimand helped me refocus on the task at hand. I subtly avoided Leera's worried look by fixing my attention on the street we were travelling through, which incidentally was the same route the parade had taken through the city.

  The count had clearly gone to great lengths to repair and beautify the area. Among the various decorations dotting the street, the massive bronze braziers set up along the parade route stood out. The city folk had used them to burn the black flags and wooden standards depicting the fiery samsara as the parade passed through Gurai. The flames still burned brightly, periodically fed more fuel by attendants.

  The roaring flames reminded me of the glorious spectacle. Rows of knights in gleaming armour rode horses draped in vibrant, embroidered caparisons. They were followed by columns of armoured infantry. Some carried spears and shields emblazoned with Eldor’s crest, a roaring tiger’s head. Others carried drums and musical instruments, to whose beat the parade marched in step. Still, other infantrymen carried strange banners with three silver Carica leaves arranged in a circle on a white background. I had wondered about the significance of those white banners at the time, only discovering later they represented some ‘Saintess blessed by the Storms’. Following these rows were soldiers carrying the banners and standards depicting the different branches of the Eldorian military.

  It was a crying shame that such lavish spending was done celebrating a lie, if the chatty serf woman was to be believed. With the Hundred-Years War still dragging on in the northwest and the unexpectedly low yield of grain this season due to drought-like conditions pushing up food prices, I had to wonder what the imperial family was thinking with these celebrations.

  If I was a betting man, it was probably to mollify and distract the populace from their hardships, while also boosting morale and stoking national pride in the region.

  The count's enthusiastic participation in this charade was curious, given his well-known reputation as a shrewd merchant and administrator. He was likely playing along to curry favour with the powers that be.

  Before I could dwell on this further, Leera stepped in front of us both, stretching sensually. Her ample bust nearly spilling out of her top armour piece. "Alright, you big lugs," she said, her voice dripping with amusement, "deliver this to the count's castle. I'm off to see mum."

  "We were already doing that," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "You weren't helping us in the first place."

  Leera scoffed, feigning innocence. "I can't believe you'd want a poor, helpless damsel like me to help you strapping gentlemen carry such heavy loads."

  Helpless damsel my ass. I’d seen her crumple a bronze shield with a single punch.

  Something else came to mind “Gentlemen? Oh, so suddenly I’m a man again. That’s very convenient whenever you need me to be your pack mule” I huffed, my voice coloured with slight irritation.

  Leera smirked, unfazed by my grumblings. She stepped over and kissed my cheek affectionately, before turning to Grog and sharing a deep, passionate kiss.

  My long-suffering sigh was ignored again.