Lament of the Slave

“When you signed up, I promised to get you to Class Evolution, and I will.” The City Guards Captain said with enough emphasis to make it clear she meant it. “It’s not going to happen tomorrow or in a week. It will take months and possibly more for you to reach it. You know best how long it took you to get where you are.”

“Years,” the white-haired young woman muttered, vex at the fact, then adding quickly, “Ma’am.”

“Exactly, years,” Rayden nodded. “So don’t expect miracles.”

Miracle, Deckard called me that once or twice, though for a very different reason. Still, it only took me over a year to get where I was. Was that so unusual? Granted, people were not willing to suffer 24/7. Oh, sorry 26/12. Yeah, as I found out, a week was 12 days long in Eleaden, or at least in Sahal, and every one of them had a unique name. Weird, huh?

Captain paused for a moment, letting her words sink in before continuing. “Each of your classes requires a unique approach to leveling. You may think it’s just the baking of bread you hate, the keeping of accounts that drives you mad, or the magic you’ve been ostracized for using. It’s not!” She motioned to me. “Look at Grey here. Do you think she got to that level with just a collar around her neck? No! She found a way around it, and that’s what we need to do with you and your classes, find training suitable for each of you.” She paused as the bull terran had something to say. “Yes?”

“That goes for me too, ma’am?” he asked cautiously.

“Even for you, Ironhoof,” she said firmly, then looked at all of us. “I’ll tell you what I’m trying to get into the heads of all my city guards. Classes are not as straightforward as you think.” Her eyes moved back to the bull terran. “You’re a mage. To get stronger, you just have to use magic. It’s that simple, right? What if I told you the best way is knitting?”

Knitting? I tried to imagine what it could do for a mage. Did knitting have anything to do with mana? Controlling it? Nah, I knew too little.

“Seriously?” blurted out the white-haired woman, adding ‘ma’am’ only after realizing her blunder.

Rayden smirked. “I knew a mage who believed it, and a fucking powerful mage he became. The point isn’t to get you all knitting, though. It’s your attitude. You, Breadbaker, straight-up thought I was bullshitting you. Welkes found it funny, and Ironhoof is torn about what to think. Only Grey considered how this might benefit the mage.”

Bloody hell, thanks for singling me out. Now the white-blonde was giving me an annoyed look, and the other two didn’t look friendly either.

“I say this because you need to open your minds,” she said, growing serious. “I’ll help you, you’re here to make city guards. That doesn’t mean I’m going to lead you by the hand. I don’t need blind sheep who just follow orders and can’t think for themselves.”

“Ma’am?” asked Walkes, the wannabe-elf, if he could speak, and at a nod from the Captain, he continued. “How can we measure up to the warriors?”

“You think they have it easier?'' She asked back, and the trio nodded, some with a grumble. I knew better. The gruesome death of the moss-eaten pair was still vivid in my mind. All those Shadowbreakers and mercenaries died because of their profession.

“Do you think I got where I am because my class allows me to swing the sword easier?” None of the trio dared to argue. “I don’t know how many times I put my life on the line. It’s become my bread and butter. Tell me, does a baker have to risk her life? Is accounting a dangerous job?” She paused, leaving the question hanging for a moment before continuing. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not looking down on you or your class, by no means. You just have to understand that everything has a price. Most people see the powerful people, envy their wealth, but have forgotten the scores of the dead who were not so lucky. Tell Welkes how many bookkeepers have died doing their jobs?”

Maybe-an-elf actually thought about it. “My uncle almost did when he was mugged. Although he did have a gambling problem,” he added in the second breath and a little more seriously, “Ma’am.”

Breathless, I waited for Rayden’s reaction to his jab at the incompetence of the city guards. Either he didn’t realize who he was talking to, or he was a fool because pissing off a superior was never a smart thing to do.

She gave him a hard look, and I saw him get all tense, but she didn’t go any further. “Next time, you might be there to help him.”

“Anyway, even if the mugging had something to do with his class and profession, so what...is he one in a thousand, out of a hundred? I don’t need to tell you the ratio between soldiers, warriors, and fighters during the Mind Wars, right?” She raised a questioning eyebrow.

When no one answered her, the City Guards Captain continued. “I don’t say that to discourage you, just telling you how things are. It’s not a thing people talk about, but there are warriors who have forsaken the sword. Sixteen is fucking too early to decide your future.”

She was referring to the age when people on Eleaden could choose their class. I couldn’t agree more. I, too, would have chosen differently in my school years.

“What else can a warrior do?” questioned the bull-terran Ironhoof. I’m guessing there were no ‘former’ warriors in his clan.

“Whatever they like,” Rayden said, smirking, actually. “What keeps them from counting bills or kneading dough. Likewise, anyone can hold a sword or draw a bow, and if they have any wits, they can dabble in magic.”

The trio seemed to be in thought, the outcome she was aiming for. “As I said, open your mind and put some thought into your class. That’s enough of a lesson. Let’s get to why we’re here.” She gestured to the not-quite-elf. “Freyde Welkes, looking forward to learning the way of the sword. If his courage does not leave him, your squad’s frontline warrior.”

Hard to imagine him that way now, but I wasn’t exactly fighter material either. The slight bow he gave me was something that made me pause. Was it some elven custom, a courtesy? Him making fun of me crossed my mind, too. However, I eventually returned the bow.

“Meneurmut Ironhoof is the first terran among the Castiana City Guards,” she said, and I couldn’t help but notice the hint of satisfaction in her voice. Was it that unusual? It made me dig deep into my memory, but nope! I didn’t recall seeing a single terran guardsman or half-terran city guard in Castiana. Why didn’t I find it strange before?

“He’s a keen budding mage. Unfortunately for him, taurus clans are more focused on physical strength. After decades of their ostracism, he still has the will to remain one and show them they were wrong about him.” Rayden introduced me to terran, taurus. 

Ironhoof gave me a loud snort, and to my surprise, I recognized it wasn’t a sign of contempt but his greeting. So I responded similarly, with a low growl expressing my regards.

Then it was the white-haired woman’s turn as the Captain motioned to her. “Harper Breadbaker. She’s got sharp eyes and a penchant for firearms.”

Did I hear that right? Was her last name seriously Breadbaker? Though I didn't dare to question it and instead focused on the second thing that caught me off guard, firearms. Without even realizing it, I cocked my ears. They had guns here?

“She’s currently training with a crossbow,” Rayden added as she noticed my confusion. She’ll be your marksman."

No greeting from her, just staring.

“Last but not least, as you’re still one member short, Korra Grey. Close range fighter and, if needed, your tank.” Rayden introduced me, and I was left staring at her with my mouth open.

“T-tank?” I stammered, glancing at a hulking terran man. He’d be better suited for that role.

“Ironhoof is a mage,” she explained her reasoning. “You can take the most damage if needed.”

“My regeneration?” I asked, not believing what I was hearing. From what I knew, and most of it was from the games, the tank shielded her team from danger, bearing the pain. I hated the pain.

“It would be a shame not to use it,” Rayden pointed out, telling me it required getting hurt. “It’s not just that. You have other skills that are appropriate for the role.” 

My wings fluttered in a twitch as I got to thinking about it. More skills? Ah, the not-so-useful shield. I mean it wasn’t much use against a three hundred level beast. Looking at my squadmates, it might finally come in handy. Any other skills?

“Ma’am?” My thoughts were interrupted when the maybe-an-elf, Freyde Welkes, spoke up.

“Yes?”

“I’m asking on the off chance that I don’t have to too, but why doesn’t she address you as ma’am,...ma’am?” he asked, scratching at his stubble.

“Not a chance Welkes,” Rayden smirked. “Grey is a special case, not a member of the City Guard, not officially. She will dive into the labyrinth with you, but train individually with her mentor. However, it’s something I wanted to handle.” 

She turned her head to me. “I was going to clear a few details with you later, but when it comes down to it, I would appreciate it if you addressed your superiors as sir or ma’am while training here or at Labyrinth with Squad Four. Is that clear, Grey?”

Did I want to be even more singled out? Hell no. “Yes, ma’am,” I said and if I knew how to salute properly, I would. Satisfied, she turned back to the trio. “Anything else?”

“No, ma’am,” Not-quite-elf said with a sigh, disappointed that he won’t enjoy the privilege and continue to have to address Rayden and others with respect.

“Ma’am, I don’t question your judgment, but why should someone like her be in our squad?” asked taurus, Meneurmut Ironhoof if I remembered his name correctly. It wasn’t exactly surprising that it was the terran who had a problem with my presence in the squad. He knew full well that despite my appearance, I wasn’t a terran nor beastman. 

What he didn’t know was that I was a beast, half beast, and that confused him. 

“She’s twice our level.” He added for clarification. “Ma’am.”

Ah, true. Did I judge him too soon? Sorry...?

The other two immediately expressed their agreement with the taurus. They too found it strange.

Rayden...was she now my captain? Anyway, she acknowledged the validity of their problem with me with ever so slight a nod. “Grey may be a step away from evolution, but most of her skills have levels only half of yours. Ask her later why that’s so.” Her expression said it all. Anything else? When there was no further objection, she spoke. “Good, that’s all from me. You’re free till lunch.”

All four of us gave her our ‘ma’am,’ and she left us there, standing awkwardly. Free till lunch? That meant we had about an hour and a half to fight it out here. Eyeing my squadmates, I wondered who would be first. Baker turned crossbow woman or the accountant who decided to hold a sword instead of a pen. The taurus mage seemed too cautious to just attack me. Prudence, in his case, seemed to be something more than what came with age. Nevertheless, it was he who first spoke, thus breaking the strange tension that has fallen between us.

“Call me Meneur,” he introduced himself, offering me his huge hand. Glad I didn’t have to be the first, I shook his hand. “Korra, nice to meet you Meneur.”

He snorted without being rude. “Likewise.”

Shifting the focus to the wannabe-elf, I offered my hand this time. “Freyde, right?”

He accepted my handshake. “One and only, no nickname. Even my mother doesn’t call me by one. Courtesy of my grandmother, Traiana curse her.”

“Did I already tell you how girly the name sounds?” remarked the baker with a smirk on her face.

He sighed, giving her a tired look. “Several times. Explain it to my stubborn grandmother.”

Was she the one behind his name? It would explain why, when he talked about her, it sounded like he was swearing. He then gave me a daring look. “Come on, get it off your chest! It’s a weird name for a guy, no?”

“Actually, it’s the first time I’ve heard that name, so...not really.” What I said was true, and whether it was a girl’s name hadn’t crossed my mind until the white-haired woman mentioned it.

“Oh,” he breathed, taken aback. 

“Yeah..so Freyde, it is?” I said, not quite sure how to react.

He gave me a broad smile. “Exactly, I like you already.”

“Harper, you heard the Captain,” the baker barked, her arms crossed under her breasts as I looked at her. She made it more than clear to me she found my presence in the squad unwelcome. “So, who will be first? I want to get this over with.” Or was I mistaken? Was it this fight that pissed her off?

“Ladies first?” Freyde said with a grin.

“Hahaha...” She gave him a sarcastic laugh. “Did I hear right that you’re supposed to be a frontline fighter? Front, ‘first’ to fight!”

Ouch. Though, the bookkeeper took it in stride and chuckled, “I think it should be Korra here, drawing the attention of the beasts before we attack.” 

“She’s gonna fight first, no matter what,” noted Meneur.

“What about you, big guy?” Harper asked. “Why don’t you go?”

He let out something between a grunt and a hum. “I’d prefer to observe for a time.”

Freyde rubbed his eyes and let out another weary sigh. “Fine, I’ll go. Pussy!” he added at the baker’s expense, then glanced at me. “Let’s get this over with. Shall we?”

I couldn’t agree more. This bickering over who was going to fight me was just humiliating, so I was glad when we finally took a few steps aside. Sadly I found myself  facing him with regret on my mind for wearing the best I had. I hadn’t quite thought it through when I changed into these clothes. But not the biggest worry I had, that was my upcoming duel. The first one I had, with a person. 

Deckard didn’t tell me anything about customs. Should I greet my opponent in any particular way, or should I just charge right at him? What about the rules? Were there any? All those questions left my mind when the sword appeared in Freyde’s hand. Big fucking sword. I mean, based on the leather armor that appeared on him right after, it must have been a standard hand-and-a-half blade provided to the city guards. Still big as fuck compared to my claws. Those were all I had, no real weapon or armor

An unpleasant feeling struck my heart. It was envy.

Not only did he have those, but undoubtedly a spatial tool big enough for the gear to fit in too. The spatial ring on my finger was a bitter reminder of how very little I had.

“Take out your weapon.” he urged me. The confusion in his face reflected in his voice sounded to my ears like mocking. I would if I could. What he didn’t know was that basically what he saw was all I had.

Not to take this mess any further, I let my hands change and extended my claws. “This is all I have.”

“You gotta be kidding me.” He stopped, shocked. “You’re under a mentor.”

“And?” I wondered.

He looked at me like I was an alien, which technically I was, alien Korra Grey. ‘I come in peace.’ Not really, it was coming down to a fight.

“Seriously. A mentor should take care of his apprentice. Didn’t yours buy you anything?” Freyde couldn’t believe someone like my mentor existed.

I shrugged. “Food, delicious food.”

He stayed staring at me for a moment before he shook his head and started muttering to himself. “Is it because she used to be a slave?” Then he raised his voice. “Korra, I’m afraid your mentor is using you.”

I almost burst out laughing.

“Girl, is this some kind of payback? You’re going to get me in trouble,” Deckard echoed through the union rings. Of course, he listened like all those around. Trouble, I was sure he wasn’t talking about a law, but about Rayden and the others. I just grinned, knowing that with his perception, he would see it, a mistake that I realized right away. 

“Sorry Freyde, that wasn’t meant for you. I really appreciate your concern. It’s actually kind of sweet. However, I don’t have anything because I want to get it myself, through my own efforts.”

“Ah,” understanding flashed across his face, quickly replaced by dawning realization. “Then, if you’re interested, I can recommend fair bankers. Their loans won’t get you back into slavery.” 

“No, no loans,” I replied to his well-intentioned offer. “Just my sweat and blood.” Loans were hell. Even if you didn’t have a problem with payback, it put pressure on you anyway. What if I lose my job, what if so, and so. Besides, if I wanted to, Deckard would buy me the thing with the understanding that I’d pay him back later. Not what I wanted, though.

At that, he just shrugged. “As you wish. So...” 

“So?” I asked back, watching him grip the sword firmly, taking up a fighting position. 

“Shall we fight?” His question brought laughter from the city guards. “Traiana’s tits, this ain’t no fancy ball, mate! You might as well have said: “Care to dance?” Freyde’s red ears told me he heard them as well as I did. Since neither of us knew how to approach the duel, it led to the amusement of the veterans. 

“This is just too fucking embarrassing! Just kick his ass,” Deckard echoed in my mind.

Feeling as flustered as Freyde was, I took my fighting stance too and considered his strength.

[Bookkeeper: lvl 53]

All his skills will be around level 50, meaning tier III. If he had a skill like mine [Indomitable Will], he might as well have a tier IV skill at a level higher than sixty. Then my thoughts shifted to the actual skill types. What could a bookkeeper use? Numbers, calculations, writing, reading, none of it much useful in a fight, was it? 

Freyde, like me, had to rely on general skills. The question, however, was how long he had been training them, a few days, weeks, or secretly years.

From the way he was staring at me, he was assessing me the same way I was assessing him. It reminded me of the calculating eyes of the young mossbear and the fact that initiative was essential in that fight.

That was it. With that thought, I retracted my claws, clenched my fists, dug my toes into the midday sun-warmed sand of the training ground, crouched, and with a mighty flap of my wings, rushed at him. Covering the distance of half a dozen paces in the blink of an eye, I was right next to him, aiming my fist at his side, probing attack to get his reaction.

To my astonishment, Freyde responded immediately. He was just too slow and only managed to get out of the way at the last second. Was that it? He had good reactions, but his body couldn’t keep up. Without missing a beat, I followed up with a second attack on his chin, pressuring him to keep him from attacking. Losing the initiative was always what cost me the fight in the Esulmor Woods, power difference aside.