Book 3: Chapter 25 - The Begonia's Shade (RAW)

The air was tumultuous, yearning for freedom from the domain of her parents, eager to explore beyond the reach of the expansive primordial oceans and the tranquil, silent night. Distressed by this, Water and Darkness endeavored to craft both a haven and guardian for their wayward daughter, aiming to shield her from the emptiness that lay beyond. This they called the Earth.

- The Birth of the Gesthe, by an unknown author.

Cordelia delivered Zariyah's tale to a half-believing Naira in a tone that was polite, if not a little clipped and curt.

At first, Zariyah did not care to explain how she came into Gelgor’s service, rebuffing our questions with deflections and excuses until I strongly insisted, reminding her not too unkindly that it was I who could decide her fate.

A sharp intake of breath later, she grudgingly relented. Her father was a good-for-nothing sot of man. When strong drink lost its appeal, he developed a taste for the Dust, becoming an addict who turned to gambling to fuel his new habit. The rest of her tale was a predictable downward spiral, her own father, now long gone, sold his only daughter to a contract broker. As a child, Zariyah could only obey him as she signed away the greater portion of her life. A fairly cliched sob story for this world and as common as sand in the desert.

As she continued with the rest of her little tale, I gradually grew bored. For it was for the most an account of places that I did not know, of names that had no meaning, and of a time before my coming to this world.

Just as my attention was truly starting to drift, refreshments were brought over by one of the inn’s staff, small snacks of jellied fruit, nuts, and watered wine. It was a welcome relief as I was struggling to keep my interest.

Then Zariyah began to recount how she came to her powers. Finally, my ears perked up and I started to pay real attention. A storm had come while they were traveling in the western lands, a great squall that was relentless in its elemental rage. Winds with the strength of giants tore through the night. Storms like these in Aranthia were a thing of myth and legend and tt was a lucky thing that Gelgor’s caravan had chosen to shelter within the walls of an Aranthian city.

Though Zariyah had no real memory of it, many of the Crows saw her walk out, as if in a trance, out onto the cobbled streets and into the howling night. They screamed at her to come back, but their voices were lost to the wind as roof tiles were torn off buildings. Fearing the wrath of the unnatural storm, no one followed her out into the tempest.

They found her the next in a farmer’s field outside the city walls, unharmed by the cutting winds, with not so much as a bruise upon her. It was only later when she woke up on a soft feathered bed that she realized what the Wind had taken from her. Her voice.

We all listened with rapt attention and without interruption. I always hungered for scraps of information involving magic and power and its nature. If her account was true, then it was most likely that the storm had gifted, or perhaps awakened, her powers. Had there been others like the young Zariyah who had ventured out into that storm-filled night and been gifted by the Wind? Could I do the same?

Unfortunately, the rest of her tale devolved into a boring account of her life on the road with the caravan.

Taking a sip of watered wine, my thoughts were instead turned inwards, to my own trials and tribulations that made Zariyah’s little story sound like a pleasant holiday. Still, it reinforced my view that this world was cruel and unforgiving.

Against all the odds and a world that seemed to set against me, so far, I had prevailed. At least, so far. Out of a population of billions I had been chosen, leading me to believe that I was truly special. Indeed, I had proven it, both to this world and more importantly to myself. I was more than the product of a ‘soft’ society that had created me. In me were reserves of will that I never knew I had.

However, for all of this, my goals had always been just about short-term survival and running away. There simply had been no room for thinking about what I wanted from this world, and what I wanted to do and achieve for myself.

All of my dreams and aspirations, trivial as they had been, had turned into so much ash the moment I had arrived in this world. For what was there for me to do here? The conveniences of my old world, I somberly realized, were more than just mere conveniences, but intrinsic and essential parts of living. Without them, I felt lost and adrift.

You can do anything you want, be anyone you want, a voice within stated simply. Not the voices, not this time, but a rare private thought that offered a grain of hope. Something to aspire to.

I could be powerful here, quantifiably so, as I grew in levels, skills, and experience. But this pursuit of power for its own sake, felt aimless and empty. However, objectively speaking, it was a road that promised more satisfaction at its destination than my railroaded life plan in my old world. That was the dreadful and barbaric beauty of this place.

However, there was a price for this power. Every step of the way, it seemed as though the gods of this world were intent on bending me to their will, singling me out to thwart my dreams and desires. But I was resolute in my refusal to yield to them. This was not a mere act of contrariness on my part, rather, I believed in the depths of my soul that acquiescing would mean trading away something essential.

Ah, the damn gods.

Avaria and Iasis, for all of their overwhelming power, felt human, felt flawed. They were on some level relatable, and therefore not beings that could be classified as gods. At least in the modern sense of the word.

Of the three divine entities I had encountered, only one truly embodied the mantle and title of a 'god.' Yet, even this dark and formidable power felt more like an elemental force, an inescapable truth of the universe rather than a god. The term god seemed too narrow to encompass such a terrible being. Even now, the faint echoes of my encounter with Entropy, filled me with existential dread, but also an odd sense of acceptance. I had, in very a limited way, become a part of the alpha and omega of the universe itself.

Yet, against all evidence seemingly to the contrary, a belief that I stubbornly held onto, was my belief that gods did not exist. Could not exist. Even if they did, they should be beings so far apart from us that they should be incomprehensible. After all, the true gods who were worthy of our worship were those who did not need our reverence in the first place. For what use did a god have of the regard of a mortal? What use do we have for the ants that we crush beneath our feet?

Suddenly my name was mentioned and I stopped with my internal musings. Zariyah had finally come to the part when Gelgor had gifted her to me, trading her away like so much livestock.

With a fixed smile on my face, I listened in, stopping only to clarify a few small points. A part of me felt grateful that Zariyah saved me the effort of having to explain why she joined me to the rest of my companions.

But, Larynda's face grew uncharacteristically hard towards the last part. Silly child, could she not see that this thing was not my fault at all? She had been foisted upon me and I had no choice but to accept her.

I had no intent on keeping a slave, for that was what she was in all but name, as I thought the whole institution morally repugnant. At least until I felt familiar enough with the city. Kidu and Elwin on the other hand, from the conversations I had with them on the road, viewed slavery as a terrible thing only when it happened to them, but held no aversion to the idea itself. The giant man had even explained that it had been a common thing to keep ‘bondsmen’ from other defeated tribes and for Elwin it had been a fate preferable to the hangman’s noose. As for Cordelia, afraid of her answer, I had never cared to find out her views on the matter. The woman on a strange level truly scared me.

I had never been good around believers, true believers.

It was in Larynda and her childish innocence that I had found a kindred soul regarding the matter of slavery. Over a meal, she had blurted out that all people should be free, and that no one had the right to enslave another. I reminded her that she needed the strength to back up her words, and it was with no small amount of satisfaction that I saw her train harder the next day with Kidu. Children were so easy to manipulate.

“And that is your daughter’s tale,” I finished for Zariyah, fighting an urge to stretch.

“...I never knew, all these years,” Zariyah’s mother whispered in a hollow voice.

“Yes, as you can see, serendipity has a strange way of working her will. However, my companions and I are looking for lodging and this place came highly recommended,” I said with a small smile, trying to keep things pleasant and light.

“Of course,” she croaked automatically in response before she gathered herself. “Two rooms would be a silver a night, but for bringing my daughter back to me you can stay here as long as you…”

Of course, I intended to free Zariyah at some point, but I found it awfully rude for the woman to presume something of me. Or was it her womanly way of manipulating me?

I cut her off. “Three rooms, and I will of course pay for our lodgings. This should be good for a while,” I stated, keeping the smile upon my face.

I placed a gold coin on the table, resisting the urge to wince. I was almost tempted to take her back on her offer. City life was expensive and a caravan guard, it seemed, was paid next to nothing. Damn that Laes.

The woman looked at coins oddly for a moment.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, not at all, it has been a while since I received a coin like that,” she answered, shaking her head and scooping up the coins.

What could she mean by that? The inn looked prosperous enough. Or was it perhaps because they used paper money in Al-Lazar? If so, I would have to remember to change some of my notes into smaller denominations.

“I will have the girl Ninurta show you to your rooms, but if it does not displease Master Gilgamesh, I would like a little more time with my daughter,” she said formally, almost with an air of frigid ceremony.

“But of course, Mistress Naira,” I acquiesced smoothly.

*

Ninurta, a slip of a girl in her early teens, possessed olive skin, brown eyes, and a rebellious cascade of curly dark hair. Thin and bony for her age, she was a bundle of unbridled excitement, practically bouncing off the walls with her childlike enthusiasm as she ushered us to our rooms giving us a set of bronze keys.

The rooms themselves were small, but clean, and the walls were washed with a coat of white paint lending an air feel. In each room, a glass window looked out onto the streets, and a heavy shutter allowed air in. This was a small testament to the prosperity of the place as the manufacture of glass was an expensive process for low-technology cultures. My room was a corner room and the furthest from the stairs.

A large bed dominated the center, big enough for three or four people to share, the sight of which bringing a brief smile to my face. It was a reminder of something that my world had lost with its steady advancements. Animals slept together for comfort and safety, and humans were no different to them on the most basic level. But as we as a society became more prosperous, we began seeking tp build barriers to keep away our fellow man, becoming lonelier in the process. The truly rich of my old world hoarded their privacy like a dragon’s gold, but their souls were the poorer for it.

I was however product of that world and welcomed the privacy after sharing cramped quarters with Kidu and Elwin. Finally, I would have some time with myself.

Interrupting Ninurta as she continued to ramble on with Larynda, I inquired after Patches and the Ninurta assured us that our donkey would be well taken for. The inn had a small table around the back, and the girl exclaimed that she positively loved animals and would see to her personally.

We began to settle in, the other staff of the Begonia’s Shade helping us offload some of our things. Finally alone for a moment, I began to shuck myself out of my armor. Just as I was removing my left pauldron, having difficulty with a rather rebellious strap, there was an energetic knock on the door to my room.

“It’s Ninurta, sir,” piped a voice from the other side of the heavy door, “I’ve come to show you the way to the baths if you like… I brought you robes, towel, and stuff!”

Annoyed, I got up and opened the door, letting the bouncing girl in.

“Leave it there, please. I will be done in a few moments,” I stated curtly, my sanctum already invaded. I sat down and worked my way to loosen the stubborn strap.

“Do you any help, sir?” Ninurta squeaked eagerly.

“No, I will be… actually yes, if you could help me here,” I answered gesturing to the annoying strap.

With the brightest of smiles, the girl helped me out of my steel shell. The dents and wear in my gear were a sad and obvious reminder of my latest adventurers. I would have to see to their proper maintenance later. There was no end to the chores.

Down now to my gambeson, I asked her to wait outside the room while I changed into the provided robes. The girl looked at me oddly for a moment, looking almost frustrated as if leaving with only a job half-done, before she left.

I quickly got changed, dumping the gambeson along with my underclothes into a laundry basket in the corner. Opening the door, I found Ninurta singing a cheerful song as she waited for me.

“Please this way!” she enthused, leading me down to another room on the ground floor.

The room was tiled in blue, with a pool at its center. Water flowed from a copper pipe, gurgling like a fountain. Naira had quite obviously done rather well for herself to be able to afford facilities like these for her guests.

“Do you need help with… err washing your back? I can help with other stuff too…” she asked timidly.

Caught off guard, I looked at her dumbfounded. It took me a while before I was finally able to register her intent.

“No, that shan’t be necessary,” I said quite firmly, “Please, leave us.” The royal we, was I going funny in the head?

The girl gave me a bright smile, looking genuinely happy at my refusal. I heard her still singing as she left the baths. Finally, I felt relieved that I could have some time to myself. For all of its veneer of luxury, it seemed that this place was just as barbaric, twisted, and morally bankrupt as Ansan.

Truly, what was going on in this place?