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Viter

The merchant districts were left behind their backs and, with them, the slaves that they took from the Manor. These were currently on their way back, burdened with various salts and tinctures his master had purchased.

Viter never bothered to understand how all that alchemy worked. He thought it was magical, but somehow the murk could harness it. At least Domina thought he could, which was the only thing that mattered. But apparently, the alchemist traders couldn't figure out his purchases either. They had visited multiple stores today where merchants had offered products with purer elements of fire or water to substitute whatever compound they didn't have. Only for Erf to turn them down, despite their vigorous assurances that "your Alchemist master will definitely appreciate these better."

He nervously glanced once again at his current owner. Hopefully, the murk didn't lie about his knowledge. Hopefully, Domina won't punish them both when she finds out if that was true.

The only consistency he had found in his purchases was purity. Whatever Erf was trying to buy, he was willing to drop enough cuts to get the cleanest and purest product. He would crawl through the piles of coals, pawing almost every piece, to find the blackest and the shiniest lumps. He would argue incessantly with coppersmiths to get weaker metals compared to the stronger brass. Viter even had to intervene a few times to protect the murk from irate merchants, when he would offhandedly call their wares contaminated or plain dirty.

He knew his master was fey-touched, but at least it looked like he knew what he was doing. Which meant that Domina was unlikely to cut his head out of anger. He wasn't sure if she was that type of master but he was also unwilling to find out the hard way.

Despite all that, he was in a great position right now and he would prefer to keep it that way for as long as possible. The moonstruck master of his was of a quiet character. Usually appearing meek until pushed far enough. Overly eager to please everyone and content to spend his time quietly mixing his tinctures, or performing whatever task Domina or the Lady of the House had for him that day.

No wonder these two girls snatched him up so quickly.

And they struck gold in doing so. Viter was given a stipend for his work, all slaves under Erf's command were, but these two held his fat purse. The purse was large enough that he himself wouldn't be against pursuing the murk. But Irje watched him like a hawk. He saw how quickly she suborned these stipends. Now, instead of the free money given by a naive master, these became incentives to work harder, like carrots for the mules.

He liked his stipend and the work was easier than ever. And the fact that he had a personal room for the first time in his life.

What he didn't like right now was the meanderings of his master.

He looked around, glaring at all these shifty eyes watching them non-stop. They already passed the craftsmen alleys, full of noise and smoke, and they were approaching seedier neighbourhoods. Ones that were closer to the harbours. Not the marble ones of the upper city, but the smelly ones, full with fishermen and cargo barges. The air chockful with fish and rot.

"Is this where you agreed to meet your friend?" He asked incredulously, shifting his claws out and in just in case.

"No, but he should be somewhere here anyways." His master answered offhandedly.

He flexed nervously. Erf's purse, much thinner by now, was still poking out from under his sash. Worst of all, he saw him shovelling some poisons under his tunic. He wasn't sure what the small pouches were with, but the little clay jar with a greasy and foul tincture made it obvious. Altogether that meant the meeting might be a rowdy one.

And he still had to make sure Erf won't be robbed before, during, or after.

"Do you want me to mess him up? Or threaten?" He offered instead. The quicker they were done here - the better.

"What? No!" The murk exclaimed, "No one is going to threaten anyone, at least not yet anyway."

He sighed, relieved. One less thing for him to worry about.

"Besides, if you do that, he would kill you, most likely."

And in that instant, all that relief he felt just now disappeared. What kind of thug were they meeting that could casually murder these, who belonged to Kiymetl? This was the harbour area, most of the people here either worked directly for one of the Kiymetl Manors or worked for someone, who was. And the spare few, who answered to others, knew well enough to respect and fear the Pillar Manor of Trade.

The seals on their necks already made them nearly invisible to local thugs.

Or, perhaps, Erf didn't even realize that fact. Still, for him to say it so assuredly meant that he either thought the other guy to be that strong or him to be that weak. Viter didn't like either of these options. There weren't any easy ways for him to show off his strength inside the Manor. And getting sold off if his master wrongfully assumed him to be weak and useless would be problematic.

Erf wasn't his first master. He was however the first master to be that loose with his money and lax in his demands. There weren't many masters like that around, mostly because these would be quickly stripped of their wealth due to their naivete.

"Ah, I think I see him."

He followed his gaze only to notice a rather empty part of an otherwise crowded street. Day workers and beggars alike avoided the deserted hot food store. The cook and owner of the establishment was wringing his arms, glancing listlessly at the sole 'customer' sitting at one of the tables.

He swallowed. Hard.

"Hey, Erf? Don't tell me that he is the one we are meeting."

Seeing his master's nonchalant nod, Viter hissed, "Listen, he isn't a normal wer!"

Erf glanced back at him and at his thumb pointing upward, and nodded, "Yeah, he is good, it is all clear."

He groaned, nothing was clear in that head of his. "Domina would not approve," he quietly whispered, opting for the drastic measures.

The murk kept walking, "She is aware."

He sighed in his mind, as he followed along. Erf was even more important than he realized, to interact with so many Wermages all the time. He wasn't sure what Erf was tasked to do by Domina, but it mattered little to him. What did matter was that, if he threw his dice right, he could be walking out of this as a free wer. Perhaps even rich too.

Erf dropped himself into a bench in front of the Noble Wermage. "So, we meet again, Albin."

Viter sucked the air in, expecting the worst. Was he insane? Does he want to die that badly?

The Wermage quietly placed a magical talisman on the table, as his scowl grew. Large blue eyes rose up and stared at the murk, only to shift onto him afterwards.

He took a step back, cautious of the attention.

"So you have gotten yourself a guard. Make sure that he guards you properly, however." The Wermage slowly mused, only to interrupt responding Erf. His glowing spark shimmered as the table plunged into silence. Obscuring their conversation from him and the rest of the passers-by.

Viter kept his face calm. Crazy murk probably knew more Wermages than he interacted with throughout his entire life. Suddenly guarding him didn't feel like an easy task it once was.

Not that he had a choice in that matter.

XXX

I raised my eyebrow at Albin's actions, "Was it really that necessary to scare my bodyguard?"

Today I was calm. Much calmer than yesterday. I knew how close I came to screwing everything up, and I had no desire to repeat the same process.

Yesterday I was angry. I was angry at the arrogant wermages, expecting everything to be rightfully theirs. I was angry at the Emanai to allow such a system to continue. But most importantly I was angry at myself. I was angry that it took me that long to remember my family, still slaving away on a farm. I was furious that I've spent weeks to keep myself safe, only to realize how much I could help others when Yeva literally begged me to buy her out.

No wonder Domina couldn't make heads or tails on my behaviour until I started showing real concern about those that were close to me. Manors were the cornerstones of Emanai. Not the buildings themselves, but the people who inhabited them. Large extensive family structures sought the prosperity of their whole group, rather than individual wealth and independence. They were the reason sadaq-at existed. Polygamous marriages established links between multiple communities rather than catering to the individual desires of a bride and a groom.

To her, the murk that cared mostly about philosophy and magic was bizarre. Virnan Shah didn't study natural philosophy because he simply wanted to. He studied it because Kiymetl was wealthy enough not to spend all their efforts on sustenance. Even then, somehow that study fuelled his strength with the Flow and strengthened the Kiymetl in return. And that example was the least outlandish in my own eyes.

Until Yeva forced my eyes to open. Until Sophia forced my heart to scream.

The restful sleep had stopped my shakes, which I didn't realize I had. It silenced the dizzying buzz inside my head, the pressure on my mind, and the screams inside my heart. Yeva was close in her observations but not exact. It wasn't the frustrated Erf that was lashing out yesterday, it was the young Erf. The murk Erf, who suddenly realized that all this knowledge wasn't enough. Like a kid, who suddenly noticed that the door to his home was locked for the first time ever.

I needed power.

If Domina's influence wasn't enough, I will accrue my own. Either with tools - the reagents for which I've spent hours to buy. Or with my own connections.

The historian sat in front of me. The one, who was quite shrewd himself and somehow interested in my self. The brother with an unusually pensive face. Was he already aware of what his sister had done? The last time we've met he was awfully worried about it. How much of it was a worry for the arrogance of his sister compared to the speculation of the Shebet Speaker.

Perhaps he was simply constipated.

"A guard is not just another slave that follows you around. He needs to be aware of what his tasks might be."

"It was enough, until yesterday." I replied, "When your sister publicly proclaimed that the Alchemist of Kiymetl had captured the eye of the Speaker of Shebet. While quite forcefully trying to buy me from my Domina."

I had no desire to rush this conversation. I had no idea how much he knew by now and beforehand. And instantly accusing him of plotting to take my family would do nothing but potentially give him the crucial information he didn't have before. So I would start from afar. I won't start as the irate Erf who had his family promoted to the candidacy for the sacrifice.

Right now, I was the somewhat friendly Erf, still grateful for his previous actions, but somewhat annoyed at the antics of his sister. What Sophia had done could potentially harm my family, but that was still in the future. While Albin had saved my skin previously and jump-started Irje's magical career. Forgetting his contributions simply because of what another person had done was not a good thing to do.

If he was responsible I would gain nothing. And if he wasn't I would simply burn the bridge we had established beforehand.

Albin glanced at the card on the table, his hands shuffling the rest of the deck absentmindedly, "And your Domina obviously refused. I can imagine that didn't sit well with Sophia. Don't worry about your purchase, it is not as fun having you in my House. Especially beholden to my sister, she won't benefit from the challenge otherwise."

I blinked. Did he have no idea what his sister had invoked? Or was he simply playing the role of an unconcerned brother? Perhaps, in the wermage fashion, he didn't even realize the consequences of these actions.

His reaction was a bit unexpected, but I planned for something like that, however. Or, better to say, my plans were simple and flexible enough not to easily crumble from the first unexpected revelation.

I came here with a task. A task of getting Albin on my side in the clash against his sister. Simple threats or intimidations would never work. The drugs of the neurotropic and lethal kind were more for my safety if shit hit the fan, rather than as a viable plan to attack anyone, and especially a wermage.

My most deadly weapon was still my knowledge. I just needed to apply it properly so Albin would consider that keeping me alive and very happy would be the best possible outcome in the upcoming events. And I knew exactly what to say to the one who called himself a historian while the rest of the Emanai called him one of their rulers.

"I've received your gift as well," I veered off the conversation from the sensitive topic for now. No point pushing it yet. I would only lose my possible advantage. "The variety was just enough to give me everything that I will need from them."

"Oh?" The spark of interest returned to his eyes, "And what are you going to make from them? This question had been on my mind for quite some time, as they are too thick to weave into a cloth."

"I will make music. Loud, crisp, and clear." I smiled conspiratorially.

It was his time to blink. "Music? You did all that to replace the catgut with metal?" He laughed incredulously, "I was right in my curiosity, Only someone like you would spend an offer from one of the Pillar Manors on something like that."

I smiled slightly as I spread my hands, "That is what I crave: just to be safe, well-fed, and to spend my time experiencing new things in life."

While what I said was true, I said it out loud for a reason. Subliminal messaging was important. I was the nice and fuzzy Erf, happy to tinker in my own shop and be left alone as long as you give my family back. Someone, whom you are not afraid to offer help because I would use that help to make things like music. Instead of growing stronger and backstabbing those who pushed me up.

Albin shook his head, "You actually remind me of some of my relatives, and not the murks I tend to find here." His gaze swept across the street only to return to me, as he rested his elbows on the table. His head supported by hands, which were still holding the deck of cards, "So, have you come to finally share some of your stories?"

I shuddered internally. I wasn't sure being compared to the Shebet House members was a compliment in my book anymore.

Instead, I chose the Socratic approach, "Do you know what sets all of us apart from animals?"

"Something tells me, that you aren't looking for the usual answers. Like intelligence and Flow." Albin immediately played along.

"While some might argue that, but intelligence is a complex thing with different species coming out ahead of one another in different categories. Many animals trump even us in certain aspects. The same could be said about Flow since there are Beasts that are magical and much stronger than a single wer and many a wermage. Or we wouldn't have walls on our borders." I agreed, "What sets us apart are tools. We are the greatest toolmakers and, most importantly, we are the greatest tool-users."

It was actually nice to see him shift from entertaining my thoughts to actively pondering on them. Every other wermage had been dismissive of my knowledge from the start, except him. With others, I had to make sure that my theories would align with their thoughts initially, or at least greatly benefit them from the start. While Albin simply appeared to enjoy my tirades despite my status. Even on a debatable topic such as this.

It almost made me feel guilty with what I was about to do.

"Once a person forges a first sword, others follow. First Bow, first wheel, first fire. The first word and first number. For there are material tools, tools of the mind, and tools of Flow. Both runed objects and, most likely, the Artifacts." I kept talking. What set the Artifacts apart from things simply carved with runes was that they required no mage to power them. Like the Orb of Truth, or the Pillar Towers themselves. But despite their rarity and mythical origins they were clearly hand-made. Artificial.

His grin was back. "So that is how you got the whole Kiymetl abuzz. You gave them tools. No, you gave them knowledge of these tools so they could make these themselves."

I nodded, "Precisely. I taught my Domina how to count her money faster and more accurately. I pointed to Virnan the factorials and the notion of infinity, which allowed him to delve deeper into the al-jabr of mathematics. The Algebra."

"And managed to annoy my sister by a great amount." He quipped, "Especially with the numbers. Tell me Erf. What Daimon are you, to know these things?"

"I am no demon, Albin. I am just a murk."

Huh. Somehow the Red Devil himself was the first to question the origins of my knowledge as well as my humanity. Aside from Irje and Yeva that is. Somehow every other wermage conveniently ignored the potential issue. Until now.

"So you say," He murmured as one of his hands opened up to reveal a glowing lattice of blue lines. Floating in midair. Crowned by a bold "1" on top of it. "And so you think. How interesting."

"I guess Shebet has their own Orbs of Truth. Or should I say, The Spell?" I raised my eyebrow.

Whatever it was it very clearly resembled The Orb of Aikerim, both in shape and likely in action. But the inner parts were definitely more complex than any runework I had seen before. Rune lines were simple. They were often straight and sometimes curved and gained complex effects either from stacking multiple lines on top of each other or relying on a larger area to carve it out. Both of which had obvious limitations and nasty side effects if you went too far.

The lines, that sprung up out of thin air, had much more complex geometry. They appeared to rely on all three dimensions in order to force the desired effect. Something that the books never mentioned.

It looked like I would need to get more advanced manuals in the future.

The glow disappeared back into nothing, as he closed his palm once more.

"Every House has its own trinkets," he spoke as the same hand gently brushed his hair past his horns. Quite useful that, the large protrusions easily kept the few loose hairs away from his face. "Do keep it secret, however. Manors like their privacy and talking about it might get you in a very unfortunate spot where neither I nor your Domina could keep you out of."

I huffed. Albin was apparently my hindsight. Always warning me about things I'd had already done. But I took his words to heart nevertheless. I already had House of Esca at my back, I definitely didn't want Shebet to join them as well in the future.

"Well, let us put that away, for now. I believe you were talking about tools." Albin quickly lost interest in interrogating me, most likely placated by the spell of his.

"I was, and I was also thinking of the things I could provide to others. Especially the ones who generously supplied me with trinkets to study and strings to play with."

"Hoh, how fortuitous. But do you actually have a tool like that? The one I do not have, but need?" He challenged me.

"Me? A mere murk?" I asked in a false mocking fashion, only for him to grin in reply, "Of course I wouldn't have anything that a Speaker of Shebet might ever need. But I might have something for Albin, the historian."

"Ah! It was a story after all. Perhaps we should continue this in a more comfortable place? I guarantee you that Sophia would not find out if you would spend the day in one of our outer residences."

I smiled, "That would be unnecessary. Unfortunately, I have the tasks I need to attend to afterwards. But I would continue this tale in the future. For my first tale, I want to tell you of a historian of the past most ancient. A man, like you perhaps, who wasn't simply satisfied just to record the history itself. He wanted to understand how to study it, learn the best ways how it should be recorded…"

Twin eyes of blue stared at me without moving as I began my tale of Ibn Khaldun, A man who was one of the first to walk the path of sociology, and historiography: the study of methods to develop history as a discipline. My story was short, however, for I did not come here for a full lesson.

"Fascinated by civilizations of the past and present he studied them as a concept. He recognized the patterns in different countries and different dynasties. Not just as the groups of murks, wer, and wermages that were apart from animals, nor people of one country like Emanai. He saw societies. He recognized the 'Asabiyyah: the cohesion and unity of a country as it grows and prospers into the unrivalled power."

I leaned forward, "And the eventual lack of it, as it declines and dies."

Albin frowned, "Are you saying that the Emanai might die?"

I shook my head, "No, I am saying that it will."

His hands moved, rapidly shuffling the deck, until now forgotten. A new card slammed on the table, face down, as he scowled at me. "And you are planning to destroy it? This isn't just blasphemy, this is treason!" He hissed.

I couldn't help myself, but gulp. Albin took me more seriously than Aikerim. Or, to say precisely, comprehended the possibilities better. No wonder that he was the Speaker.

"Not at all! It will happen by itself. Sooner or later. With or without my 'help'. Just like us, societies have their own lifespans. Emanai is simply coming to an end as they all do." I quickly refuted, unwilling to risk my life with an 'accidental magical discharge'.

He visibly relaxed, but the previously jovial atmosphere was long gone, "And what makes you think that?"

"Your wars," I spoke honestly and calmly. This wasn't the blackmail, this was an advertisement pitch. "I've heard the talks of the Pillar Manors in the bath. Emanai wages wars to obtain food and slaves. It can no longer sustain itself without taking from others by force."

"This is how the world works. If you aren't strong enough, someone will come and take from you."

"But you don't always have to take from others in order to grow strong yourself. The problem of Emanai is that it is stuck in a Malthusian trap it cannot overcome. With every year, your population grows much faster than the food you gain from your land. Eventually, you have too many mouths to feed and too few grains in your barns. So you are forced either to raid or face starvation. And wars only postpone the inevitable. They thin your ranks and yield the spoils thus giving you the breathing room. But the wall is still in front of you, you simply took a step back to recover-"

"Unless the gods will intervene," Albin interjected.

"Can the gods feed all of Emanai? Every day? How about two or even ten?" I asked, making him halt in his rebuke. "The gods won't intervene, because if they do, they would kill the Emanai society even faster. As it is not yet ready for a post-scarcity economy. With divine handouts, such country will grow increasingly dependant on them, losing their self-identity and becoming nothing else but pets for their masters."

Whether they existed or not was a discussion for yet another day. I wouldn't waste all this effort to end up arguing religion.

"I know quite a few who would say that is exactly how it is supposed to be." Albin mused.

"But not you, Al," I said, "Otherwise you wouldn't care for a murk being chased down the alley. Or entertain his ideas."

He sighed, "And yet said 'murk' is trying to wrest more, or he wouldn't start this conversation out of the blue."

"Because said murk is desperate. For he was forced into a corner by your own sister."

I could see the gears turning in his head.

"You…You are from Chimgen, aren't you? And so is your family." He finally exhaled.

"Bingo." I bitterly smiled as he groaned, "I would have been content to learn and teach, but she is giving me no choice."

The tail slammed into the ground with a resounding crack.

"If you have any plans on threatening her, I suggest you to drop them immediately. You might be full of curiosities, but I would not allow you to endanger my family. Even if I have to explain to Aikerim Adal why I had to kill you here and right now." He spoke calmly as his tail slowly scraped the rocks on the ground.

"No. If I was planning anything of sorts I would not be here at all. Despite my feelings brought forth by her actions, the safety of my family comes first."

A third card landed on the table in absolute silence.

He shook his head ruefully, His horns swaying back and forth, "So you will go against Emanai itself, her traditions and religion, and all the gods as well. You will waste your life in doing so."

"I will do it because I must." I whispered, "I will not cast away my own family."

"Tell me, Erf." His eyes pierced mine, "Do they speak like you too?"

I jerked back as if slapped, my mind reeling from his words.

"Do they know as much as you do?" He continued quietly, as my fingers clenched, "Or even act like you. And judging from your face they do not. I don't know why you still cling to the idea that you are a murk. Despite having a body of one. That family, you consi-"

"Shut the fuck up, Albin." I growled, slamming my fists on the table, "Your sister doesn't act nor talk like you either, but you would protect her nevertheless. I am here because of them, and they have done their best to get me as far as they could! And I will do my familial duty. And fuck these gods of yours, the ones you don't even bother braiding your hair for!"

He choked on my last sentence, laughing incredulously. But before I could consider if I should punch his face or not the laughter sharply stopped.

"Three days, Erf. Give me three days to plan and I will tell you what I can do. Stay low in the meantime and do not, I repeat, do not say a word to anyone. Especially to your Domina, or any other wermage. Unless you wish to find out how they treat a possible apostate."

I gathered myself and nodded shakily. "I will be discreet. But I would prefer not to sit and wait, while the rest of the city prepares for the 'ritual'."

He waved me off, "Don't worry about Samat preparations. Shebet hadn't sent the messenger yet to Chimgen and I will make sure she won't have time to leave any time soon. Whatever plans you might think of - they can wait until my answer. If you have other projects - do them instead, but don't attract any attention to yourself. And watch. Your. Back."

I sighed, as the pressure at the back of my mind slowly let go, yet didn't disappear entirely. I didn't put all my faith in him, but what he offered was huge. Better than anything I could come up with at this point. He was ambiguous but I couldn't fault him for it. Just as he said, we were possibly conspiring to challenge their religious doctrines. And he was risking much more than I did.

"For what it is worth, you have my thanks and my apologies." I got up and bowed. Just the fact that he would stop the messenger for a few days gave quite a lot of breathing room if not to plan but at least to think and rest. And finish other projects in the meantime. "And when I manage to retrieve my family, you will have my gratitude."

Albin Shebet Chasya

Their conversation didn't last long after that. Erf had managed to achieve what he came here for, and he was struggling with a plethora of new thoughts himself. Ideas and, worst of all, expectations that Erf laid down made sense to him. No matter how distasteful he had found them to be, he could not easily refute their possibility.

Erf omitted the crucial detail, however. Time. The cycles he had described wouldn't happen overnight, nor in a hundred years. Erf would be most likely dead by that point, but he would still be around. And he could already see the climb of luxuries and corruption across the Emanai Manorat. The Chimgen Manor itself was suffering from a few too many lavish parties that they had indulged in. He wasn't sure if he should punish their gluttony for what it would undoubtedly cause, or stay his hand for it had brought Erf into this city.

The sounds disappeared once more, including the retreating steps of a murk and his hapless bodyguard. As the figures all around him had frozen once again, his hand reached out and turned the card face up. The card he drew for his own sister. It had been troubling him for a few paces of the day until the recent meeting had brought him clarity of the events unfurling.

There were only few Divine cards in the deck. Each with a character of its own. Each - unwilling to come out unless the situation was far from mundane. Each of them - cryptic and two-faced as the Gods themselves.

He looked down at the image of a crumbling tower. The Divine Consequence promising both retribution and renewal. To crumble old and build anew.

The second card was for Erf. The Divine Death. The cessation of one, or by one. To kill or to be killed.

And the last one - for himself.

The Divine Choice.

He smirked looking at it. How apt. The scales on the card were nearly identical to the golden ones on Erf's neck.

His fingers clenched as if to crumble them but he thought otherwise at the last moment.

"What have you unleashed, Sophia." He murmured as the hands shuffled the cards back into the deck. The Flow resuming its original direction, no longer disturbed by the draw. "And just where will this take all of us?"

Having met him in person on multiple occasions he was now very familiar with the wake he cast upon the river of Fate. A Daimon of the past, the ancestral soul entombed in a murk's body. But there was something else. His splashes were beginning to uncover something even greater. Like the scales of a beast that had been slumbering on an ocean floor for millennia at a time, getting ready to wake up once again.

Time of leisure was over, he now had a lot of work to be done in the upcoming days.

He couldn't stop but smirk at the recent memory. "Fuck the gods, Erf? How ambitious of you." He snickered.

The deck was gone and sounds were back. Albin got up and headed in the opposite direction, leaving some cuts for the owner on the table. The crowd spread apart to give him passage. Fearful of his status and the tail swinging back and forth in a bout of frustration.

Except for one rushing wer.

The tail swung like a whip, hitting the wercat on the shins and easily dropping him into the ground.

"Watch where you are going!" He snarled back without stopping as the grimacing wer tried to crawl away.

Yes. A lot of work, and there were annoyances all around him already.

 Shahin Esca Yusuf-ja

She lounged on a large pillow as the rest of her tail coiled over another one. The sofas of Emanai, even the ones designed for more 'robust' families, were rather flimsy for her. The furniture was yet another example of how foreign this country was. The damp air made nights unbearable, despite them being milder in these lands. While the feeble heat of the sun could barely overcome the chill of the wind. Back home, she dressed in silks outside to shelter herself from the bright sun. Here, she had to wear outer clothes even indoors. Or risk her thoughts to slow into a crawl.

"I hear that Domina is planning on expanding the Manor?" Shahin spoke as she drank hot wine with honey.

The warmth and sweet of the liquid kept her warm, so she didn't have to rely on runes all the time. While the actual spell was not complex, maintaining Flow over the entire day could easily drain even someone of her rank. And she had no desire to wake up sick.

She couldn't afford it.

"My mother has a keen mind." Anaise Hilal allowed, "It is no wonder that the Manor would prosper under her watch."

Shahin was inside one of the winter pavilions, sharing her lunch with the Lady of the House and her brother. Amalric looked rather subdued today, allowing his sister to lead the conversation. An otherwise normal occurrence but she had seen him talk to her before. Apparently, the boy had been talked to. That was unfortunate, but not unexpected.

That meant they knew, that she knew. And the game was on.

"I would assume that she is eager to congratulate her daughter's accomplishments? A new estate perhaps?" She probed instead.

"Is that how Esca honours its daughters, then?" Anaise asked in return.

She smiled, "Indeed. An estate is a first step in acquiring your own Manor after all."

Anaise eagerly jumped in, asking her about the customs and traditions of her homeland and Shahin let her. The Lady of the House was well-educated and knew her way around sensitive topics. She was also young. Her attempts at changing the topic were laudable but still obvious. That is if one was paying attention. And heard some gossip beforehand.

Domina was planning a large expansion. A very large one. Yet, judging by Anaise's reticence in rightfully calling it hers, that was not a future estate of the Lady of the House. Or estate at all. A word here, an unusual meeting there, and surprising whispers all around painted a somewhat odd outcome rather than a luxury estate for an esteemed member of the Kiymetl household. Nor did it look like the usual expansion due to family growth. Shahin tried to acquaint herself with every member of Kiymetl Manor that resided here. And there weren't that many around.

This Manor was young and the current courtyards were more than sufficient to house all of them.

It wasn't an estate she realized. Something simple like that would have been already built. Or at least the walls and the main buildings would have been in place. Domina was waiting for something else to start the construction, something related to the rest of the city. Otherwise, she wouldn't have spent so much time meeting with the Samat family.

An estate, no matter how luxurious, wouldn't require a collaboration with the rest of the city. A collaboration that most likely implied the necessity for wider roads or even aqueducts.

But a new manufacturing area would.

The question was why would Domina hide it under the name of an estate? Was it to hide it from her own family? Or from someone like her? Perhaps, even both.

She spoke of her homeland, as she drank and ate. The drink wasn't strong enough to sway her thoughts, but the honey and the meat would keep her body hot and her mind swift for a long time afterwards. Perhaps a combat practice wouldn't be amiss either. She had to eat quite often since she came over here and her tail was already big enough to hold the heat within. Anything more would only slow her down.

Shahin wove her story skillfully, both pulling at the heartstrings of Amalric and probing Anaise with accidental words. The young man was confused and subdued. Unsure where to put his trust. With his mind that told him to obey his mother, or with his heart instead. And she would not discourage him from thinking so.

She told them of the sands and stars. The songs and dances of her sisters, that kept them warm until the fires were hot enough. She spoke to them, but the tale was more for herself.

Because she knew that she might not return.

Shahin came here both on her own volition and by her House's will. Guided by the chillingly precise comments of the Kiymetl delegation. She came here expecting an upstart to subdue or an accidental discoverer to recruit. Instead, she had found a Pillar Manor almost ready to suborn their craft. The rings inside their braids were simplistic but well-defined. Which meant that whoever made them knew exactly what he was doing, but had no experience with it.

The experience could be gained in time. The colour they possessed - not so much.

Despite all her efforts, the murk alchemist remained out of her reach. Amalric had been fruitless in his attempts, even in bringing him with the Lady of the House. Anaise Hilal acted rather possessively when any conversation touched her new attendant. And she could guess why judging by how often she would play with her rings. A slave of such mastery would be a precious possession.

The sounds of a commotion outside interrupted their conversation. Her hosts looked around but, before either of them could tell one of the slaves to investigate, a servant girl was already beside Anaise Frantically whispering something to her.

"What!?" Lady of the House exploded, and scowled not at the flinching servant but at…her?

"Is there something of the matter?" Shahin asked.

"Please, don't worry about it. I just need to excuse myself for now." Anaise quickly rose.

"Of course." Shahin bowed to her, "Until our next meeting, perhaps."

"I should probably assist my sister," Amalric got up as well.

She bowed silently to him, making him awkwardly turn away from her gaze as if he was guilty.

Shahin waited until they left her alone with her servants and then extended her arm. The flute was quickly placed in her hand. Absentmindedly she began a melody of her past. One of the first Songs of Fire that all children learnt. It was calm and simple, easy to memorize and soothing to the mind.

A new slave snuck in as she played, her neck adorned with the seal of Kiymetl, bowing quietly in front of her.

"What is the commotion outside?" Shahin asked after she had finished her piece.

"There is a slave missing." The girl eagerly reported, "The Young Lady's alchemist or so I heard."

"Really?" She smiled to herself. "It seems that he is quite important, then."

"Oh yes! Some say that Domina is very fond of the murk." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, "Some even dare to claim that she had summoned him to her baths."

Shahin held her eyes from rolling as she gestured to her slave. The power of gossip was notorious everywhere, but this was getting to an absurd level. She picked up a small pouch of cuts and threw it into the outstretched hands. The slave girl bowed deeply and disappeared once again with their interaction over.

She stretched and put the flute away, hiding the hint of a smile under her veil. The grim future of her House was still uncertain. If she would throw the dice right, her sisters would not have to freeze and starve. Aikerim Adal didn't outright dismiss her upon arrival, which meant that she was not secure in her new product yet. At the same time, ridiculous rumours about the miraculous rise of the murk and possessiveness of the Lady of the House painted the real picture of the culprit. The culprit, that had already managed to stir the entire Manor with his absence.

Perhaps the Gods would smile upon her and she wouldn't need to do anything at all.

"One ship - one navigator, was it?" She slowly murmured.

How apt.

XXX

"What?" I said, awkwardly putting dildos away, "They aren't for me!"

Viter kept goggling.

"It is a present for the girls." I desperately tried to explain myself.

"There should be a healer nearby, they sell herbs that can raise your spirit." He suggested.

"I don't have problems down there!" I hissed quietly.

He raised his eyebrow, "You have the cougar wer vying for your attention. If you don't have problems yet - you will."

It was my time to goggle at him, "Wait. You mean they are all like that?"

He turned away, "They are…well-known for their appetite."

I gulped. Note to self: avoid other cougars at all costs. I idly wondered how quickly I would've tapped out if I didn't have the technology of the advanced civilization keeping my dick rock-hard throughout these nights. It would be fun one day to sit down and reminisce about our first days. Try to figure out who wooed whom. And still, come up short.

"Well, hopefully, she won't be weirded out by me buying it."

"In your positions, you don't have to worry about these things." Viter turned back to glaring at the crowd like a hawk.

I sighed. His words were true in this society, but that was not what I sought from my relationship. And that was the main reason why I wanted them to grow so much. Just as with hypothermia, where nobody is dead until they are warm and dead, it is love when they can leave at any time, yet choose to stay instead.

And it wasn't just my own stance. Navigators needed mindless sycophants as much as they needed screen doors on the hull of a ship.

In the end, I chose to shrug and continued to stuff the protruding package under the tunic. The recent conversation had eased the load off my mind. This is why I decided to take another detour and visit the merchants once again. Not to buy ingredients, but to purchase trinkets that weren't on my mind before. Like ordering new amulets to be made for Irje and Yeva, checking up on the guitar progression, and making awkward purchases from a very loud seller.

At least I could pick up the guitar`s body tomorrow. And sing first songs by afternoon, most likely.

A stray thought had entered my mind to ask Viter about wermage exploits in bed, but I stayed my tongue. He had been twitchy since he noticed how often I attracted the attention of Domina and Anaise, and the recent encounter with Albin made it worse. I had a faint feeling that he would have a heart attack if I even mention the possibility of bedding one.

Well, at least I got some interesting tidbits about wer in the process.

A street urchin bumped into me. "Hey!" I barked, trying to maintain balance, "Watch where are you going! Oh…"

He didn't just bump into me, he also managed to leg out of here extremely fast. While clutching my coin pouch.

Little bugger.

Oh well, there wasn't that much le-

A loud roar blasted my ears as Viter went into combat mode. Claws extended and ready to jump. Scaring all the passers-by around us. He lunged forward as the crowd quickly split apart in front of him, giving him a better path to pursue his prey.

I sighed as the stripes of yellow and black disappeared into the crowd. So much violence for some measly cuts. I would need to talk to him about using proper responses in such situations. Or even develop standard operating procedures exactly for the cases like that. So that I won't stand like a peacock as the crowd gawked at me.

Alone at that.

My breath hitched as I heard the shuffle behind my back. I dropped to the ground fast and hard, barely avoiding the noose that appeared right where my neck was just a second ago. Without bothering to get up, I booked from the clearing in a similar manner as the urchin did moments before. Frantically pushing my way between the legs of the gawkers.

I cursed under my breath as I kept weaving through the crowd, not paying attention to the screams and yells behind me. Fucking Albin! 'Watch your back' my ass! He could have simply warned me like a normal wermage being. But nooo! The smarty-pants needed to act all vague and mysterious.

I kept running as my eyes looked for an alley. A sharp turn and a quick climb, and I will be able to put some serious distance just as I've done before. The rest I could figure out later. This was an ambush, and the first rule of an ambush, if you are still alive that is, is to get the fuck out of the ambush zone.

A glance to the side, a shove to the other and I pushed myself into a gap between the buildings. It wasn't deep but walls were rife with protrusions. Perfect to scale upward. A few well-placed steps and I threw myself at the wall, easily catching the protruding brick with my fingers.

My hands pulled me upward with ease. In less than a second, I was already halfway up the wall. Finally getting the first solid grasp on the protruding eaves of the second floor.

That is when a flying brick smashed into the wall right above my head, showering me in chips of clay.

A growl from behind and below, "Get back down, merk."

Damn, this bugger was much faster than the other two. Smarter too. Oh well, plan B it was.

I dropped sloppily, like a sack of potatoes, landing with a pained grunt and collapsing to the ground.

A single wer. He was a little bigger than me, but not by a huge margin. No wonder why he was that fast.

Good.

I snivelled as my fingers let go of my dagger and braced against the earth. I had no real skill at slashing but he might have. And all that usefulness of the ultra-sharp blade would be gone in a moment if he would disarm me.

He sniffed as he slowly approached me, "you should have stayed put, merk. I could have made this easy for both of us, but you choose to struggle instead."

He took his time as he approached me. He was telling me something nasty but I didn't bother listening to his threats. What I paid attention to was the lack of any seals or medallions on his clothes as well as the plain style of his belt. Whoever he was, he definitely didn't dress to impress. He also favoured his right leg somewhat.

Very good.

I held myself still, waiting for him to get near. My head turned away, facing the ground. The smell of dust and petrichor inside my nose. All my attention in my ears. A murmur of the street nearby, a hissing voice of my adversary. And uneven steps of his feet.

A step and a drag.

Step.

Drag.

My muscles flexed. Ready to move.

Step.

Just as he started to drag his foot, I lunged low at the shin in front of me. The one that he just put all his weight at. My shoulder smashed into his leg as I dropped down once again, planting his foot into the ground with the weight of my body.

There is a funny problem with our brains. They really hate falling backwards. And they will use all reflexes available to them to 'correct' the issue. It would lock up your muscles and straighten your knees just to push you back into the standing state. Even if the centre of mass was way past your sole foot on the ground. The foot, that was unable to move due to all the weight applied to it.

But nature always finds a way.

And bones are designed to be strong with a specific task in mind.

I heard a loud crack as the shin fractured right beside my head. Both of his bones shattered as he toppled down like a falling tower, squealing like a pig.

That wasn't good, however. Who knows, if he had friends nearby.

Letting go of my brutal prise, my hand reached past the dildos and grabbed one of the tiny pieces of folded parchment. I lunged to his screaming face, my palm covering his open mouth and forcing him to breathe out the rest of his air through the nose. He tried to inhale right after that, planning to scream again, only to be interrupted by my other hand. The one generously pouring the powder right into his nose.

The wercat snorted and tried to struggle, but I held him down firmly. He was strong, but so was I. And the shock from pain was already kicking in and, in a few moments, the other drug was too.

I calmly watched as his cat-like eyes slowly rolled up, white froth on my fingers. He would most likely survive if his body behaved like a human one. But the wake-up would be miserable.

I wiped off my hands on his tunic and quickly scanned the main street from behind the corner. Painfully aware of all the shady faces in the crowd. Viter was nowhere to be seen. I quietly cursed at my overly eager bodyguard and hid again. It was unknown whether he was still chasing the hapless urchin or looking for me back where we split. The important part was that he wasn't here.

And staying around with a knocked-out body of a beaten wer was not a healthy way to live.

A quick search yielded nothing of importance and I sighed as I picked up the unconscious body. Leaving him here would mean that whoever hired him would be much better prepared for the next time. And I had no desire to hide inside the manor for the rest of my life. Fearful of shadows on the street.

I had places to be and things to do as early as tomorrow.

I threw him over my shoulders, securing him to myself with his sash. Killing him would have been quicker, but I didn't waste all this effort only to slit his throat afterwards. Nor did I really wanted to do it either. And here of all places.

My fingers punched into the wall, making a purchase for themselves. Once again I scaled the walls of this city, but now I wasn't running. I was merely moving fast toward the Kiymetl manor. I was certain that the wermage politics were the most probable cause of my current trouble, and so Aikerim would have to shovel this pile of shit herself.

Who knows, she might learn something valuable from the 'tongue' I captured. Or use him as a trading piece.

I crossed the city, jumping from roof to roof. My feet leaving gouges on parapets from all the weight I carried. My only cost was in calories and shoes. It was an unusual way of travel, I would say, but I didn't wish to risk being stopped and questioned on my way back.

The Kiymetl manor was bustling with activity.

No, let me rephrase it. The Kiymetl was abuzz like an angry beehive.

I entered the main gate almost unnoticed as Sulla was rounding up redheaded warriors into groups. He stopped barking orders as he saw me with my package. Only to start barking a new set of orders, mostly for others to stay put and for me to follow him. Straight into the inner courtyards, to the heart of the Manor, and the residence of the Domina herself.

He left me as I walked through the final door, staying outside.

Leaving me face to face with a livid Aikerim.

I sighed and dropped the unconscious body on the floor, using him as a pillow to sit on.

Well, at least I've found Viter now.

 Aikerim's posture relaxed as she saw me but her gaze was still razor-sharp.

"Who is that?" She demanded, pointing her whip at my makeshift chair.

"I have no idea at all, my Domina," I said, "But he was very eager to know me quite intimately."

Her nostrils flared up as I showed her the noose, and the wooden handle groaned in her grip. Her eyes slowly panned back to Viter, making him shrink into himself even more.

I sighed. Judging by his condition, and the lack of obvious signs of physical punishment, Viter arrived a few minutes ago himself. Just enough for Aikerim to comprehend the situation, issue Sulla to form search parties, and visibly and vocally explain to the wertiger how deeply in shit he was. Judging by his overall rough appearance he was shaken quite literally.

All that, because some wermages finally decided to start their cloak and dagger dance. How fucking nice of them.

"My Domina, I want to apologize for the accident my slave had caused." I spoke, "Please allow me to educate him."

My first words had startled her, but my conclusion made her ponder in earnest. Trying to demand or even request anything from her, with Viter listening in, would yield nothing in return. Perhaps it would get me punished as well for the audacity to do so. This whole act put a bitter taste in my mouth and made my forehead itch, but I had to play by the rules of Emanai. And the rules demanded me to be deferential to the high ranking Domina, and my own owner to boot.

"Can you do it, however?" She asked.

"There is a first time for everything." I shrugged, "Might as well start now, under your oversight as well."

Aikerim thought for a moment as her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

The hand quietly presented the whip to me.

"Viter," I said, shaking my head at Aikerim's 'offer', "Have you managed to retrieve my pouch?"

"Yes, master." He sullenly replied, watching our movements like a rat stuck in a corner watching the two cats deciding who will have him for dinner. "The pouch is right here."

I extended my hand and he threw the pouch. Which I immediately emptied into my palm. A dozen of silver coin "cuts" drowned by a handful of bronze. A very hefty sum, for a day-worker that is.

"There are enough cuts in this pouch to feed and house a whole family for… thirty days. One could live off of it for an entire season alone if they would be careful not to spend too much. A real fortune for a street urchin, and a miserable loss of a normal citizen. I can see why you would be eager to retrieve it for me."

I could see his eyes focus on me with a spark of hope or, perhaps, with appreciation that I chose to talk instead of using corporal punishments.

"My Domina, would you tell me how much you could spend on a wer bodyguard?" I turned back to Aikerim.

"On average, an unskilled fighter wer would cost a two thousand cuts of pure silver or eighty cuts of gold. I paid eighty-five for him."

I ignored her jab, "And if I was being sold - how much would you be willing to buy me for?"

She smirked. "Knowing what I do now: your weight in gold at least."

Viter choked on her words, but I nodded unperturbed. We both knew she was severely underselling my worth. I would've expected this price before I showed her that I could make much more than that in less than a week. But naming something more outrageous would serve little purpose here. Or she did not have enough wealth to offer more than that for a murk.

I quickly ran the numbers in my head. Judging by the average weight of a gold cut, my 'price' was more than a hundred wer slaves. Extremely impressive, for a murk.

"What you have to realize, Viter, what matters most is not the face value of an object, but the relative cost. You didn't save me from the loss of twenty silver cuts or so, you left a bag of gold behind to chase a child through the streets. Imagine yourself drowning and I chose to save a loaf of bread instead. The loaf might be delicious, but incomparable in value."

"Believe me, I will not make the same mistake again!" He said vehemently.

"You most likely won't," I nodded as I glanced at Aikerim only to point her to Viter and then to the door with my eyes, "Hopefully, my Domina would agree, but there are more pressing issues to discuss."

"Yes, the body that you dragged in brings more urgent questions. Sulla!" She gestured to him to drag Viter away, "Especially a live one, why isn't he moving?"

I checked the vitals of my almost-kidnapper, "He is trippin'," I said offhandedly as we were left alone in the room.

Aikerim glanced at his legs, the eyebrow slowly rose.

Feeling a little bit awkward under her gaze, I set his leg straight so it didn't look as bad as it was before, "Umm, he is trippin' hard. He will recover in a few paces, perhaps a period of time, but he should be quiet for now."

She huffed and rolled her eyes, "That was a pathetic way of punishing your slave."

"Because I do not want to punish him but to educate him instead. Aside from his initial blunder, he had made the best possible decision afterwards - informing you as fast as possible. If this is a work of one of the Houses, which I am more than certain about, something like this might happen again. And if I end up being kidnapped with him surviving, I would prefer that he would make the correct choice quickly, instead of wondering whether it might be better to waste more time trying to save me by himself, outright fleeing the city, or committing suicide."

"If you would let the mistakes slide they will grow accustomed to your softness and will turn lazy," Aikerim said, unconvinced.

"That is why I am paying them a little stipend." I immediately refuted, "Now I can punish them without resorting to a whip by simply taking away something that they grew accustomed to."

She shook her head. "You can do it because you only have a few of them under your command, and my own gold to waste on something so wasteful. More slaves you have - more time you will end up wasting to coddle them, only to be betrayed in turn. Or you will end up relying on your Prime to do the dirty work for you, soaking her hands in blood to keep yours clean."

I frowned in distaste, imagining Irje with a whip, but pressed on, "A scholar of the past once wrote a codex. A codex about Power and how to keep it. He wrote it truthfully, without shying away from uncomfortable parts, unlike other writers who chose to write the idealized and virtuous 'guides' instead. He became notorious for his blunt explanations and many people after him were called Machiavellian in his name to highlight their underhandedness. But that was not the point of his codex. He wrote it not to teach those in power to be more insidious, for they already knew that, but to reveal these methods to the common folk. And in that codex, he had asked a question: Is it better to be feared or to be loved?"

"Judging by how you described him, I would expect him to say that the fear is the most appropriate, is it not?" Aikerim finally stopped staring me down and chose a more comfortable position on one of her sofas.

I nodded, "Indeed, the path of fear is safer, for love is more fickle in the eyes of others, while dread would never fail. Yet even he had said that the best course of action is to be both. But above all else, you should never be hated."

She quietly pondered on my words, absentmindedly consuming fruits from the nearby table. My stomach quietly churned from the sight, the chase and the consecutive parkour across the city with the body of my shoulders had nearly evaporated my energy levels. Once again I was on the edge of starvation, but asking for a snack right now was not a good idea.

Because Aikerim was frowning more and more. And I knew why. She was beginning to connect the dots that I've provided throughout this meeting.

"So you want to use me making him fear me while loving you for your generosity? Have you forgotten who is giving the orders here?" She spoke imperiously.

"I am not using you at all, or I would not have said all these things out loud. And he already fears your wrath as it is, I just see no purpose in making him hate me with the punishments. The fear that I am the only thing that is holding your wrath would be more than enough. Please consider this as a trade between us."

"A trade? So far it appears that I will have to do all the work, while you will be reaping all of the rewards. I do not see how this trade would be fair."

"You would gain a faithful guard that will keep me safe, a task that you had bought him for. You have also gained a useful lever in the future bargaining from this altercation." I nodded at the prone wercat on the floor, "He could not only provide you with some information on who hired him, but you might also trade him for concessions afterwards. Apart from that - ask of me, what is your next desire?"

A plum flew straight at my forehead, which I immediately caught with my mouth.

She huffed, "Work on your glass inventions, what I need right now is for the envoy to actually realize how little she can offer to us at this time. Which would make her pliant and most likely a non-issue until a full delegation from Esca would arrive. And then we would bargain in earnest."

Our dialogue calmed down afterwards. Understanding that the crisis was over, Aikerim quickly informed Sulla to stand down the general readiness, which he probably had done already by that point. I wasn't exactly sure that I was correct in keeping Viter's back safe from Domina's wrath, but his position was similar to mine. Stuck between the hammer and a hard place. To do nothing for him, while despising the same things done to me would make me a hypocrite.

The rest would be up to him, if he betrays my trust - he will be on his own.

I felt that Aikerim was of a similar mind. It wasn't as if she trusted my reasoning, but she looked extremely curious to see the results. Most likely intrigued by the other achievements I had obtained in the past with my 'unusual' tactics. Especially the interpersonal ones.

In the meantime, I had informed her of my purchases and the altercation that resulted in the current situation, conveniently skipping on the meeting I had between the two. I also informed her of my plans to head out once again. While she wasn't particularly eager to find out that I was planning to cross the manor walls so soon after, I was able to placate her by agreeing to bring a much bigger group this time around. And yield better results from my future purchases.

The kidnapping attempt was a surprise, but I would not let it dictate my plans. Especially since I had won the exchange so one-sidedly. Tomorrow might be the safest day to head out anyway. Whoever it was, they would be left confused and missing an agent, or a quick hire, with no idea what went wrong. They would plot and plan, spending their time thinking of something new, while I would roam undisturbed.

Unless there were multiple parties involved, but that is why I agreed to a larger entourage.

This also had absolutely nothing to do with the fancy seals I have ordered for Irje and Yeva. Nor the guitar body I had to pick up. Nope, nothing at all.

Our conversation didn't last long. I had my own tasks to do, while Aikerim got herself a captive to secure for future interrogations. I decided not to think on how cruel said interrogations would be. If he had succeeded, I would have been in a similar position myself and begging Domina to treat him like a guest would achieve nothing in this day and age. Apart from marking me as extremely naive in her eyes.

It didn't matter what my thoughts on these subjects were. Emanai had its rules and expected all to obey them unquestionably. Surprisingly even the highest ranks were beholden to them, which I've found quite unusual of an ancient society like this. But that only confirmed to me how high I would need to climb in order to openly and brazenly disregard the norms of society. Something that took Albin centuries most likely, and he was already born with a whole drawer of silverware in his mouth.

A quick run to the kitchens and I had turned my feet back to the workshop areas. Only to be lifted up by a very angry woman, who proceeded to drag me all the way to the soap workshop as I desperately tried to hold the chunk of cheese in my arms. My coveted feeding time was once again postponed as the two very important girls in my life took their time expressing their dissatisfaction with my shenanigans once again.

Surprisingly enough, it had taken me much more effort to make sure they would not attempt to skin Viter alive, once he would be released from Aikerim's mercies. Domina promised me not to touch him, but Irje wanted blood. So did Yeva, judging by the rather vicious movements of her scrapping knife as she innocently enquired when she would see him again.

And it was Yeva that worried me the most. Irje was loud and rowdy, quick to explode but even quicker to forget. In fact, I had a strong suspicion that most of that ire would evaporate this very night. Yeva was of a different kind. Her lithe body and unassuming presence hid a cunning mind underneath. It took me days of confusion to realize someone had been swapping my shirts every night.

In order to wear them herself for the next day.

My yells of surprise were met with a giggle, a tiny tongue stuck out, and a peck on a cheek as thanks. In a matter of a single second, she turned me from being indignant at constantly being itchy breaking in the new shirts to standing there like a fish with the mouth open. Outwardly stupefied but inwardly giddy. Unable to refute her actions anymore and feeling thankful instead.

A lonely and shy bud that once would tremble from a rustle or a raised voice had slowly bloomed into a beautiful flower, full of happiness and sharp wit. And it warmed my heart seeing her smile faintly whenever I would approach her from afar.

"Yeva, love, please don't hurt Viter," I quietly murmured into her hair as she cuddled into my lap.

"Hmmm?" She hummed, "Not even an itching powder?"

"No," I put my chin on her head, "The next few days might be hectic and I wouldn't want him to make another mistake by being distracted."

"You are too soft, Erf." Irje ruffled my own head as she leaned into me, "If you continue to act like that, many would use you for their advantage."

I gently smiled, enjoying their warmth. The soft and pliant flesh of Irje pushed into my side and a bundle of heat, that I enveloped in my arms, warmed up my body. I didn't realize how much I needed that at this very moment. The constant stress of something happening. All that politicking, scheming, and fighting in the streets only to dive right back in as soon as I returned. And I had a feeling they felt it too. And nursed me back with their healing touch.

"Everyone deserves at least a single chance," I murmured "As Sir Edwin said: 'Pity makes the world... soft to the weak and noble for the strong'. But you are right, and I would not give out these chances often. Or more than once in many cases."

Yeva sighed, "Your weird words again. And here I wanted you to show me some of your more active chemicals."

"You know that I can't do that. At least not yet. The safest observations of many reactions are done by sight, and I would be ill at heart knowing that you can easily poison yourself because you couldn't see what is happening, and unable to touch or feel it either."

She squeezed me tight, "Thank you. Especially for the 'yet' part. I don't know how you would achieve it, but I feel like your most outrageous claims are somehow most likely to come true."

"I don't believe that Flow would be able to help much. From my own experience, Anaise attempts had done very little to affect the welts on my back, now that I think about it. But there are other ways around that. These would simply take a little bit more time to accomplish."

"Speaking of Flow," My hand slid up Irje's thigh. "Is there a reason you are quite fuzzy down here?"

"Erf!" She squeaked indignantly, "Do you know how hard it is to shave it down there?"

"Yes, if you are a wermage that is." I grinned at her, "The Flow inside your body makes your hair harder to cut. Yet another undeniable proof that you are one."

"There is another undeniable proof that Erf is randy again. And it is poking me in the stomach." Yeva snickered.

I got a bonk on the head. "And here I thought you are about to teach me some magic. But you simply needed a hand. Or, perhaps, a tongue." Irje purred.

"No. That's not it!" I tried to fight away the crawling hands, "That's for later! And we need to get a lot of stuff done tonight. Irje! Are crucibles and the pre-heaters ready? Yeva! I got a new compound from the goldsmiths! The sodium borate would allow us to make borosilicate glass! Help!"

XXX

In the end, I have preserved my body and my upcoming presents from the very aggressive case of womanhandling. The shreds of my purity had remained intact and the hands receded, albeit only after securing the promise to continue later on.

My arguments weren't without reason. We had big plans today. The most recent crucibles were good enough to hold the liquid glass, while the new exhaust system was able to bleed the heat to the incoming air, making the fires hot enough to liquefy said glass quickly and easily.

The system still had quite a few faults and was unlikely to operate for more than a couple of attempts, but that was not the issue. This was the attempt at the prototype, not at mass production.

Surrounded by extreme heat all around, and many slaves with the best protective gear we could come up with, we started making something that was most likely never been seen in this world until today.

The float glass.

A red-hot crucible slowly turned, pouring the molten glass into a bath of molten tin, spreading across the surface. The reliance on manual labour meant that we had to work quickly both to prevent accidents and to pour it while the surface of tin was still pure and clear. The lighter layer of glass floated on top of the tin allowing the puddle to spread and achieve significant flatness with gravity alone.

We lost our first two attempts and succeeded with three more when the furnace melted on us. The surviving sheets of glass were carefully placed in the annealing oven to cool overnight, and only then I allowed myself to relax once again. Yet I couldn't stop grinning as I wiped the flowing sweat from my body, history was being made today.

I've called the day early, allowing the workers and my girls more time to relax after the ordeal. But the day was not yet over for me. I headed to my alchemy lab right after a quick shower. While another step of the "Fuck the Snake" plan had been achieved there were still many others to be done.

A piece of flat glass wasn't really an impressive sight. Even a piece of very clear flat glass.

But a mirror would rock their socks off. Or whatever the lamias wore on their tails. Perhaps she would just rattle like a rattlesnake.

But for that, I needed silver nitrate.

And for that, I needed alone time with a bunch of caustic reagents to get myself a nice clear cup of nitric acid. Just as Yeva had reminded me about, It was nothing crazy as long as I didn't need a few litres of it. Yet there was still quite a lot of tedious work. Mostly to purify the reagents and the products. It is as they say: 'garbage in - garbage out'. And I had no plans on making garbage anytime soon.

And while the reactions were quietly bubbling I could do some recreational carving.

A door opened behind me, surprising me with the unexpected sound. The lab was off-limits to nearly anyone after the Aikerim's decree. I turned sharply only to sigh and relax as Anaise slowly closed the door behind her. The emerald eyes sparkling in the dim twilight of the evening. Her ears low.

"You have made quite a commotion in the morning." She slowly murmured.

"Yeah, it appears that some House wanted to make an unscheduled meeting." I scratched the back of my head. "And it didn't look like they cared if I said 'no'."

"And yet you are back here, unharmed. Still tinkering with your potions." She nodded at the bubbling retorts behind me. "You are an enigmatic person Erf, almost like a bird. Happy to sing your songs wherever you are yet thrashing wildly anytime someone tries to grab you."

I smiled as I glanced at the sky through the window. Soon the stars would come out once again. The stars that I have been missing all this time. Or the freedom they represented. Space was vast and free and one would need to be of a certain breed to enjoy it fully. And Anaise was very close in her description.

"You are right, Anaise. I love the freedom of the sky, but I also know my obligations. And I return to the Manor to craft my trinkets and share my knowledge. For the Manor is more than just a cage. It gives shelter, food, and knowledge I do not have."

"Really?" She walked closer to me, her face lit by a nearby oil lamp. The flickering flames shining on her rosy cheeks, full in a sullen pout. "Then how come you have avoided my bath today?"

My faint smile evaporated. Anaise's bath. The promised one after her mother interrupted her initial plans. And then postponed with Aikerim's own only to be followed by that fateful meeting of yesterday. And tonight I've skipped it on my own volition. Stuck in the alchemy lab where no slave apart from me had access to. Not even the messenger slave to relay the summons of the Lady of the House.

Whoops.



Snusmumriken

As usual, the next chapter will be next Thursday, August 26th. I hope to see you then!



Snusmumriken

As usual, the next chapter will be hopefully next Thursday, August 19.



Snusmumriken

Next chapter will be August 12th, hopefully. This one took quite a lot of my time and if the next one will get similarly unwieldy I might post it later.