Lament of the Slave

 

“What the fuck, Deckard!” Janina yelled at him as she appeared at Korra’s side, immediately checking her condition. “I thought you had more brains than to go this far.”

“Instinct,” he said back, all too aware of what he had done. But no amount of regret could undo it now. Due to a momentary lapse in judgment, his apprentice now lay in a pool of her own blood at his feet.

“You’re lucky you didn’t kill her . . .” She hadn’t even finished, and the beast moved under her gloving hands, whimpering. He was all too aware that his apprentice’s regeneration was far too good for her level, and even the killing blow - just the thought of it made him sick. There was no justification for his error.

“. . . fhat huwtss ike biwch,” his apprentice mumbled unintelligibly.

“Don’t talk, you bit off your tongue,” Marcus stopped her, worry and wonder written all over his face. “But damn, lass. Other than a few broken nose bones, your skull’s fine.”

Deckard was at a loss, not knowing whether to rejoice or marvel. The gal survived, and what’s more, she took his kick with only a few broken bones. All the blood was from the bitten-off tongue, the tip of which he found lying in the dirt as he looked around. She most likely had it hanging out when he kicked her in his blind - to be honest with himself, when in his blind fear kicked her.

“Damn you, Little Beast. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Stop joking,” Janine snapped at him again, not quite willing to let him off the hook for the way he had messed up his own apprentice. “You’re a man in his prime - there’s no way you’re getting a heart attack.”

He would beg to differ. About the heart attack, that was. The presence - the way some of the guards were holding up, a few of them still unconscious, being looked at by the healers permanently stationed on the training ground, while quite a few of the boys and girls surely shit their pants - well, that terrifying presence was obviously something the gal didn’t just focus on him, but let loose all around her. 

Nevertheless, he knew better than to argue with Janina or Marcus right now.

“Besides, the gal is far from fine. Marcus?”

“I don’t know Jani. I’ve never seen damage like that. I mean - it looks like a Life Burnout to me, but . . .”

“But it’s certainly not just that, huh?”

“Yeah, the damage goes much deeper.”

“Bwive me rime,” his apprentice huffed, apparently on the verge of blacking out. Give me time? For what? Did she have something else up her sleeve?

“I told you not to talk, lass! Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.” Deckard knew Marcus well enough to pick up a hint of concern in his jovial tone. That was no ordinary injury or exhaustion.

“Marcus, this isn’t like any Life Burnout I’ve ever seen . . .”

“I know, Jani. Still, give her the potion.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Deckard had seen enough to know that the Life Burnout was the last resort for mages when they were in a pinch. With no mana to use, they literally burst their cells and squeezed every mana-bearing layer out of them for every ounce of mana they had left. Simply put, they burned their lives instead of mana. Most of them died, but that was because there was usually no one around to replenish the mana their bodies craved and heal the damage. “Isn’t it enough to fix her and give her a mana potion?”

“Deckard, the presence. Whatever she did is far worse than a Life Burnout.”

“We’re healing her, but the cells aren’t closing - they want more than just mana.”

Deckard’s relief was replaced by dread again, his mind searching for a solution, something he could do to help his apprentice. “Aura Blast!”

“A what?” Janina jumped at his shout, puzzled as to what he meant.

“Uh, I mean Palemoon! You . . .” He pointed at the young woman standing next to Sanysia. The captain of these barracks was working to calm the situation. “Do you know what happened to her? She must have done this before.”

The gal nodded. “A little while before we came back. But Ronnu gave us a healing potion, and she seemed fine after.”

“Must have been a hack of a potion,” Marcus shook his head, doing his best to help the whimpering gal on the ground.

“Is that all? You don’t remember if Little Beast mentioned anything about it.”

“Only that it took everything out of her, every ounce of energy she had. At that time, she even reverted from her beast transformation.”

“I sisn’t go whaf far.”

“Damn, we’re stupid.”

“Fuck me.”

“”The Stamina Potion!"" the two healers blurted out at the same time, ignoring the gal. A vial of the potion appeared in Marcus’ hand.

“Drink, lass.”

No matter how skilled his friend was, it was still odd to watch him try to get the beast with the bit-off tongue to drink the potion.

“That seems to have done the trick,” Janine breathed a sigh of relief, only to glance at Deckard. “Doesn’t mean she’s fine. Far from it.”

“But her cells have stopped deteriorating,” Marcus added, not stopping to treat the gal, and so did his wife, doing her best.

“Would my auras help?” Aura Blast asked, much to everyone’s bewilderment. “According to the system, I should be able to boost her stamina and mana regeneration.”

“That’s actually excellent. Do it,” Janina urged the girl. And so the young Palemoon knelt down beside his apprentice and let her bask in her aura. 

“Wouldn’t you be interested in working with healers, lass?”

“I’m not really into healing, Chief Healer?”

“Oh no, I’m not trying to make you a healer. That would be our job. But we could use someone with your skills.”

“I-I . . .”

“This is not the time or place to discuss this, Marcus,” Janine reminded him. “He’s telling the truth, though. Rarely does a warrior who can control support auras choose to work with us.”

“They train to fight, not to care for the wounded,” Deckard said, his eyes fixed on his apprentice. The gal’s heavy breathing seemed to ease.

Aura Blast nodded. This was what she had trained for. “I was taught a lot and thought healers had skills - you know, like my auras, lieutenants.”

“Some,” Marcus admitted. “It’s just that the human body is more complex than you think. Take you, for example. To the uninformed, your swordsmanship is just swinging a sword around, but there’s more to it than that. A lot of your skills will revolve around your sword-wielding, and this is true for healers as well. Most of our skills revolve around ‘basic’ healing.”

“And mind treatment. Thanks to the wars. What we lack, we make up for with potions,” Janina added, actually frowning. “San!”

She yelled at Sanysia so loudly that the beast, his apprentice, whimpered in pain - her ears pressed to her head.

“What?!”

“For Traiana’s tits, can you tone down your bloody auras? We’re chatting here like a bunch of idiots at a tea party.”

Only now, still gripped by fear for his apprentice, did Deckard notice the numbing influence on his mind, the soothing touch he knew so well and allowed to penetrate his defenses. Sanysia. She stood there as he remembered her from the wars. The General, unfazed while everyone else panicked.

This wasn’t like him. He should be standing there with her, getting the others in line. Instead, Idleaf was at her side, mimicking her every move in jest.

He should have noticed that the spirit didn’t panic; that she didn’t fear for her Guardian’s life. Instead, he acted like a rookie. Panic-stricken, running around like a headless chicken - so to speak. But why?

The presence.

It took him with his pants down and was more powerful than anything he had ever experienced.

“Then tell me you got your wits back and I will,” Sanysia shot back, paying most of her attention to what was going on around them. Fortunately, Blaine and Rhys seemed to have kept their cool - or, as with them, Sanysia held them in line.

“We’re good,” Deckard grunted, disappointed in himself, grateful. “Thanks, San.”

With nods from Janina and Marcus, she released them from the grip of her command auras. It was like coming out of a hangover. Except, not quite; nevertheless, he could finally see clearly what had happened, free of the fog of panic or the General’s embrace.

Except for the tip of her tongue, the gal, his apprentice, seemed fine, her injuries on a much deeper level, self-inflicted in an attempt to show him all she had. Just as he wanted.

What a blunder.

The excitement of finally finding a way around his bottlenecks got to him, and he . . . he screwed up colossally. There was no tiptoeing around it. His mistake, and he had to own up to it.

Getting his apprentice back on his feet, however, came first.

And, in fact, it wasn’t long before she shifted back to her human self.

.

***

.

“D-damn, that was worse than I t-thought it would be,” I said, testing my new tongue. Sure, I could have waited a few hours for my regeneration to do its magic. The severe lack of mana my body was starving for didn’t allow me to boost it. So, after finally shifting back, I let Marcus and Janine grow me a new one.

I know, I know. The healer-grown parts were usually weaker for a few weeks while they adjusted to the body. But I guess that didn’t matter so much for the tongue. On the contrary, not having it was so much more irritating.

“Korra’leigh,” Idleaf squealed when she heard me speak, slipping past the others and, despite the protests of two healers and myself, hugging me, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around. “You’ve grown so strong.”

“Yeah,” I grunted back, my whole body screeching with pain. “About that - I don’t think I’ll ever use that presence again.”

“Why? It was a lot of fun.”

“Not for me.”

“That’s because of him,” the spirit pointed accusingly at my mentor. 

“No, it wasn’t Deckard’s fault, Idleaf. It’s just that using that presence took more out of me than I thought.” Those last words belonged not only to her, but to everyone standing around watching this chick get her naked ass spun around. Seriously, I was really hoping someone would have offered me a blanket to wrap myself in by now.

“Hmm . . .” Idleaf frowned, thinking. “I wanted to see Esudein’s reaction. He would be so surprised and proud.”

Yeah, I could imagine that. A little pup with a presence to rival his. Actually, it wouldn’t be strange if they felt threatened. “Sorry. Maybe when I get a little stronger.” Much stronger, in fact.

At that, she chuckled and let me down.

“I honestly dread the day you do, Little Beast.”

Deckard - he looked the way I felt - drained. Gone was his nonchalance and the eagerness he had shown in our spar. He reeked of worry and guilt. My fault.

“Sorry,” I lowered my ears. “I got carried away.”

“What? I should be the one to apologize, Little Beast. Not you.”

Huh? What was he talking about? “Oh, you mean this?” I rubbed my nose - this sniffer of mine was back to the way it was supposed to be. “Actually, now that you mention it, yeah. What the fuck was that? It felt like it was going to split my skull in half.”

“I’m surprised it didn’t,” he smiled slightly, still reeking of guilt. “Look, as your mentor, someone much more experienced, the one who was supposed to be there for you, I should have known better. That’s where I failed. Little Beast, can . . .”

“No, no, no. Don’t ask me if I can forgive you. First of all, I’m the one who caught you off guard and intimidated you.” The words ‘scared the shit out of you’ were on the tip of my tongue - not the one on the ground, but they seemed too much of a taunt. “I should have known better that you wouldn’t stand still. Secondly, oddly enough, not much happened.”

“Damn you both, you are one like the other. Not much has happened? Open your damn eyes and look around you?”

The consequences of my actions. Rayden made it more than clear what she thought of my use of might. That she wasn’t happy about it was understandable. Her guards were still quite shaken by the experience, some of them painfully fearful of me. The trust I’d built up with them was gone. In their eyes, I was the weird girl again, a beast even.

And I could only blame myself for alienating them.

What a great comeback.

“L-listen up, all of you,” I shouted as the idea flashed through my exhausted mind.

“What are you doing now, Grey?” Rayden growled, but I ignored her.

“I’m sorry for - for this. Would you say a drink for each of you at the Drunken Filly on me would make up for it?” Even though I didn’t feel like partying right now, there weren’t that many people. I’d say two dozen guards, not counting those under the Oath like me. It will be a stretch, but definitely something I should be able to afford. 

The response was better than I expected; only a few remained suspicious of me. On the other hand, some demanded two drinks as compensation.

“That’s a pretty good move, Little Beast. But I wonder how you’re going to pay for it?”

“What do you mean? I have . . . SHIT!” like all my belongings, my hard-earned coins didn’t survive the trip back to the present. I was poorer than a church mouse, having less than when I arrived in Castiana. In fact, I was so broke at the moment that I was stark naked.

Wrong, actually. I had clothes - folded on the edge of the training ground. When I took a step to get them, however, I was overcome with dizziness and my knees buckled.

“Careful there,” Deckard quickly supported me, his hand too close to my chest for my liking. Thankfully, even if it hurt my pride a little, he was no more enjoying it than I was and quickly turned to Stella. “Aura Blast, could you grab her clothes? I think everyone’s seen enough of her.”

“Thanks,” I hummed as I caught my breath and pulled myself together. Stella may have kept her auras on me, but the potions seemed to be nearing the end of their effect. Anyway, my mind wandered back to more pressing matters than my health. “Is there a bank where I can borrow some cash? Freyde . . .”

“Don’t get your tail in a knot, Little Beast. I’m your mentor. Why don’t you rely on me for once? Besides, I owe you more than a drink of Dragon Fart.”

“Dragon Fart,” my eyes sparkled, only to bite my lower lip. “I don’t know if it’ll do much for me, though. My Constitution is through the roof. I guess that’s why I withstood your kick. Anyway, the Dragon Fart, the drinks, m-maybe it was rash - but I’ll pay you back . . .”

“Rash, but going by your guts - some of the best decisions I’ve made . . .”

“And the worst, too. Or did you kick her with all your strength on purpose?” Rayden reminded him. “But seriously, do you two only think with your guts? Can’t you stop for a moment and think with your brains before you act? If you did, we wouldn’t be in this mess. The only good thing about this is that Egerton is still unconscious.”

My eyes inevitably searched the training ground and found the City Lord lying on the ground. And he wasn’t the only one. Both librarians were lying next to him, the healer just checking on them. The guilt hit me.

“Is he a-all right? I mean Mr. Sandoval.” I would never forgive myself if the old man had a heart attack.

“He’s not dead, if that’s what you mean. But do you see what not using this can lead to?” Rayden tapped her finger on her head to make a point. And it was a really good point. 

So good, in fact, that it made me think. I’ve never been like this. I’ve never been so reckless, acting solely on my guts - and my instincts.

The beasts. 

To blame it all on Deckard’s influence would be too easy - and like turning a blind eye to the truth. It must have been the beasts; my deeper connections with them I had been building for eight months under the influence of Vienlin and Gerran. And I certainly couldn’t forget my excitement at being back with all those around me.

Because of my thoughtlessness and rashness, I once again exposed them to something truly dangerous: my inner self.

“I can see that,” I nodded to Rayden, my ears and wings lowered in shame. “And I’m very sorry.”

“Good. You should be. If you weren’t, I’d be tempted to send your naked ass to the brig for a few days. You know - to give you time to figure out how to use your head and think about what you did.”

“What about me?”

“I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you, Deck. But unlike Grey, she was the only one you almost killed. Technically, if she had filed a complaint - we have enough witnesses . . .” Rayden left the sentence unfinished, her expression saying it all: Please do.

For how tempting it would be, if he were to be sent to prison; who would pay for all the drinks I had promised? “Not much happened. Besides, I’m looking forward to the Dragon Fart.”

“Pity,” Rayden sighed to herself.

“You know, lass,” Marcus spoke up. “I wouldn’t generally recommend straining newly grown body parts, but considering it hasn’t been that long since you were lying there almost dead, whimpering, and now you seem full of energy, your tongue might survive the Dragon Fart. But if not, don’t come complaining to me.”

Janina nodded. “Same here. It’s your decision. Should it be up to me, we would have you rushed to the infirmary, not parading around butt-naked.”

“I-I,” I stammered, looking around for Stella. Everyone kept reminding me of my lack of clothes, and I wasn’t deaf. After all, it wasn’t like I enjoyed showing everyone my parts.

“Here.” She was standing with my clothes, right behind my tail, for who knows what reason, waiting for me to notice her. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was enjoying my shame. Anyway, thanking her, I grabbed the clothes out of her hand and slipped into them with her help before looking back at Marcus and Janine. “A-actually, I wouldn’t mind being taken to the infirmary.”

“Huh?”

“Look, I-I know I’m far from well. Actually, I’m having trouble standing. And - if you could tell me what the use of this might really do to me, I’d very much appreciate that.”

For one thing, the potions they gave me must have stopped working, because the fatigue started to truly set in - like I could really barely stand. Besides, I knew from experience that the infirmary wasn’t a bad place to go over my skills in peace. And frankly, I was in for a hell of a long read.