Day 44

Day 44

She tilts her head, causing her hair to drape over my plate.  The sunlight filters through it, making the world appear as though it's lit by iridescent bubble gum.  “You haven't been talking much lately.”
“Duly noted.”
“Like, less than usual.”
“I assumed as much.”
She stares determinedly at me.  “What's going on?”
“I'm eating.  Well, I'm trying to-”
“I mean with you.”
I look down at the plate, and then back to her.  “A lot of not eating is going on.”
Her face draws inward but she pulls away and sets herself back in her seat, returning the sunlight to its previously golden shades.  I, in turn, return to my meal.  It's some sort of baked and breaded zucchini that's wonderfully seasoned and then covered with some sort of mildly spicy sauce.  It is, perhaps, the best thing I've eaten since I came to Min.

“Is something wrong,” she asks.
“No.”
“Then why do you look down?”
“That's just how my face rests.”
She continues to stare at me while I finish off my lunch in significantly less time than it usually takes me.  “You're less talkative than usual,” I note.
“That's 'cause I'm worried about you.”
“Don't.”
“But you're my best customer.”
“That's depressing.”

She looks around the place suddenly, as though trying to avoid looking at me anymore.  It lasts barely ten seconds before she turns back and immediately notes “You aren't wearing your armor.”
“True.”
“Why's that?”
I place the last piece of food in my mouth and take my time chewing, and thinking.  “It's less effective,” I finally answer.
“Effective at what?”
“At letting me do my job.”  She cocks her head and stares at me quizzically.  I take a deeper breath to answer “Monsters see plate armor and they get defensive; they start acting innocent and harmless.  When I hide my station, they become rapists again.”
“So, you wear it to make them worse?”

I stare at her as she watches me.  “I wear it to show what they really are.”
She watches me for a moment longer before asking “More tea?”

“Yes.”

---

I sigh as I pass another street, turning another corner.  The nights have been betting more pleasant, and the duties of my work have become so much less stressful.  I've grown accustomed to my walking and even, to an extent, to the monsters.  I doubted that it was possible, but the human soul is more resilient than I had thought.  Even the constant, overt attempts at seduction from the things around me has become a sort of background noise.  I have become accustomed to my charge.

“You're careless,” calls a husky voice from down the alleyway I was passing.  I recognize it.
I pause in my stroll only to say “Walk with me,” and then continue as though I hadn't stopped at all.  I make it twenty paces before I hear the footsteps – pawsteps, I suppose – behind me, and then next to me.
“You're more careless than I would've imagined.  This isn't a trap; I'd sense it if it was.”
I turn to look at the hellhound.  “I wouldn't pretend that it is.”  Then, as before, I turn back.

“So what are your plans,” it asks after another few steps.
“Get any good raping done, lately?”
It grabs my shoulder roughly and wheels me around to look at its scowling face.  “You're my target.  I'm only taking you.”
“And that's why I don't have any plans,” I answer.  Its eyebrows pull inward in confusion.  I take the opportunity to turn and start walking again.  I'd rather not have to look at its indecency any more than I have to.
It snorts in amusement.  “I've not seen a single man trail me.  If you plan on having others do your work for you, I wouldn't hold my breath.”
I glance back at it, not hiding my own amusement.  “I'm not surprised, the guardsmen don't consider you a high priority.”

Once again I'm staring at the thing, but this time it's before a background of stars as my back strikes the sidewalk.  It bares its teeth as it growls out “What are you talking about?”
I blink away the numerous motes of light that fill my vision before stretching my lips back out into a smile.  “Don't you think the guards have better things to do than deal with a harmless trespassing case?  The mages say that you're bound; until you take me you're not doing anything else.  In other words, you're completely harmless.”  Its teeth slowly grind tighter as the red smoke seeps further in serpentine coils from its eyes.  “So tell me,” I ask as I smile further.  “What's it like to be held as a lesser concern than a stray dog?”

It stares at me, grinding its teeth as its eyes dart over me.  “I'll have you.  So help me, I'll have you.”
I wait, and I watch it.  “Well, go on then.  Do what you're going to do.”  Its brow furrows inward again in confusion.  “Are you going to torture me?  Force me to take off this collar to end the pain?”
Its eyes widen and it pulls an inch away from me.  “You can take it off?”
“Well, you won't know if you don't bruise me up a little, now will you?”  I smile even is its expression twists into confusion.  The thing doesn't want to damage its own food source, now does it?  “Go on, then.  Snap a few bones.  Break my legs.  Twist my fingers until they touch the backs of my hands.  Aren't you so much stronger than us pitiful humans?”  It's just staring at me now.  I don't like the look it's giving me.  I remember my focus word, and then I lift my neck up to stare closer into the maw of the molten sewage-formed maggot resting over me.  “Take a drill to my teeth-”
“Stop it,” it shouts down at me.

Its panting now, causing the rusted iron bangles that just barely cover its modesty to jangle slightly.  It's staring at my chest.
“And that's why the guards aren't concerned.  Why should they be?  You won't do anything to me, and you won't do anything to anyone else.  You were beaten the moment I put on this collar.  That your summoner was too stupid to figure that out is your problem.”
It grits its teeth and says “I'll find a way,” defiantly.
“Oh?  What liches have failed to do in twenty years, you'll manage?  I'll look forward to that.”
It doesn't have a retort to that.  It doesn't have anything at all.  I'd pity it if it was anything more than a malicious urge to break and violate given form.  Instead I'll just be glad that this little ball of evil has been unleashed only to be immediately rendered harmless.

“So then, how long are we staying down here?”
It doesn't answer at first, and when it does it only says “Until I'm done.”
“With?”
It's staring at the shield of Saint Rylan.  If I didn't know better, I'd think it was trying to sear it from my neck with hatred alone.  “If it wasn't for this thing, you wouldn't have hurt anyone.  No one would have.”
“Oh yes, the obliteration of humanity wouldn't have hurt anyone, would it?  Gods, you things are stupid.”
It bares its teeth again.  “Say that with your collar off.”
I bare my own teeth in a grin.  “It wasn't the collars that beat you.  Your race was finished the day Saint Malorn set foot on the Vespertine; it was over when your kind sank it to get husbands.”  Its brow pulls inward again, and it stares uncomprehendingly down at me.  “I suppose I can't suspect any of you to be educated.”

“He had lost his entire family to the things when the town fell.  He'd been told that the monsters had eaten them all.  It was a lie, yes, but it was close enough to the truth.  After all, they consume the energies of humanity, and his original family was dead the second your kind transformed them.”  It opens its mouth to interrupt me, but I keep up my pace and it seems to decide against it.  “He was a regulare of the penitentines – a needlessly archaic name for warrior-priests of the church who felt that they'd failed either the chief god or humanity.  It was when he was accompanying a tour of armsmen heading to the northeastern front that dozens of monsters from the sea attacked the vessel, and it began to sink within seconds.  He looked overboard, and saw the things surrounding them.  He knew what would come next; he and his shipmates would be taken, and your kind would grow stronger.”

“He didn't let that happen.”

“The chief god had overturned the Edict of Serendipity not fifteen years before, and our artificers had recently discovered the concept of using metal launched by gunpowder.  While mages made the things useless in large scale battle, they were issued to deal with the more martial of your kind.  He didn't use it for that, though.  He realized it wouldn't save the crew – they'd still be taken by the monsters of the sea no matter how many he might kill.”

“By blade and by bullet, he marched through that ship; finding each and every crewman and making sure that they would meet their god untainted.  The monsters around the ship had never heard of these sounds, and didn't know what was happening.  The sea took the ship, and him with it, and then it spat him right back out.”

It's still staring at me, but now it's as though it's afraid that I'll blow up at any second.  I much prefer this expression than the last one.  “One week later he strode into the  city of Teridar, and there he told the church and humanity of what had happened.  The ideas that led to our 'collars' and our animosity index both came from him: Saint Malorn the Merciful, the savior of the Vespertine.”

I'm smiling up at it.  It's staring, mouth agape, down at me.
“No, but I'm sure you'll beat us all yet, miss,” I pause for the briefest of moments, “whatever-your-name-is.”
Its expression draws tight and complicated, and then it leans forward enough that its hair drapes over my face.  My view is of naught but blackness as it whispers “Ylva” into my ear.
There's a rush of wind and a sudden feeling of lightness as the stars fill my vision again.  “And I will take you,” its voice calls out.

Huh.  That's actually a pretty name.
I pull the phone to my ear as the tinny ringing begins.  “Sir,” Thomas' voice calls.
“I'm going to need to keep that tagging pistol out on permanent withdrawal, Tom.”
“I, uh, I think I'll need to ask the autocrat about that, sir.”

“You do that.”  I put the phone away, and stare at the stars a while longer.