System Lost: My Own Best Friend

Thanks to Violet's new spells, we're able to travel in relative comfort for the rest of the day. By the time the sun starts to set, my butt is sore and my joints are stiff as heck, but it definitely beats walking. Still, as I get out to stretch, I almost envy Draga. He basically just ran for like twelve hours at a dead sprint and doesn't even look tired. He's fast when he doesn't have to carry anything.

He doesn't waste any time setting up our camp by the side of the road, and I rush to help him. This is a good opportunity to practice my Fa'aun!

"[Hello!]" I greet him in Fa'aun as I grab the bundle with our tent before he can do it himself.

Draga gives me a wry smile. He never objects to us helping, but if we don't move quickly he will absolutely do it all himself. It seems to have something to do with gender roles—even though he's Talla's boss, he never makes any demands of her that aren't directly related to the job.

"Hello," he replies with the same greeting. "Miss...sorry, I'm still not sure how to tell who I'm talking to. Allie?"

"[Yes,]" I confirm for him. "[It's Allie.]"

"Right. You know that greeting is usually meant as a way to hail other travelers on the road, right? It's a bit odd as a conversation starter."

I did know that, but I don't know any other greetings yet, so I just shrug. "[Yes. Are we close to town?]"

His face scrunches up as he tries to make sense of my terrible pronunciation. "Town? There's probably a village around somewhere, but we're still on the fringes of the empire."

Dang, and we have to get all the way to the capital? It really is gonna be a long trip, I guess. I set up the tent's frame—made of some sort of flexible wood like bamboo—as we chat. It took a few tries to learn how to do this, but I'm used to it now.

"[Will we stop at a village?]" I ask.

"Probably not for a few days, at least," he says. "There would be no point. Frontier villages can barely feed themselves, much less provide for random travelers. We'd only be a burden at best—targets at worst."

"[Targets?]"

As if on cue, a small group emerges from the thicket and Draga's entire body tenses up like a coiled spring. There are only five of them, all boys—topless and wearing simple cloth skirts and sashes. By the car, Talla also goes still, suddenly focused intently on the newcomers.

"Hello!" the one at the front of the pack greets us.

He's tall, with russet fur, curled horns and a thin but well-toned build. The man waves with one hand while the other casually grips a simple matchlock pistol at his side, the match gently smoldering.

"Bandits?" Violet whispers.

"What brings such rich travelers so far from the heart of the empire?" the leader asks.

"We're rangers," Draga answers tersely. "You boys shouldn't be out this late—it's getting dark."

"Rangers with an alchemical carriage and two noble ladies?" the boy scoffs.

He must have mistaken me for another noble because of Kiera's clothing—I pull the hood down anxiously to hide my face.

"No, I don't think so," he concludes. "Leave the carriage and supplies and be on your way. The ladies can keep their clothes—I'm no monster—but the rest stays with us."

Talla takes a step towards them and crosses her arms. "Boys, I am Lady Talla Goa Baanu. You are making a grave mistake. I don't know how you kids ended up with alchemical arms, but there's no version of this that ends well for you. Go back home to your mothers and I'll forget this ever happened."

One of the other boys, a smaller one with stubby horns, sneers and levels his own pistol at her. "You think we're afraid of some silk-wrapped snobs from the cities? By the time you get word back to your clan we'll be halfway to—"

The leader kicks him in the shin to shut him up.

"Pardon Gavin's manners, my lady," he says with false humility. "He's new to this—still learning the ropes. I'm sure you know how it works, though, yes?"

Talla scowls at the leader, unimpressed. "I'm not sure you do. Draga is tier five, and I can tell just from looking that none of you are above three. You don't win this fight, and even if you do, clan Baanu does not tolerate attacks against its daughters."

That's a worrying thought, but I'm a lot more concerned about the armed bandits in front of me. Where did they even come from? If this is near the edge of the empire, there can't be all that much travel for thieves and bandits to target. Although I guess there is a big road here, and we would have been easy to spot in the car.

Crap, these aren't career bandits, are they? They are making this up as they go—it's a crime of opportunity.

A few of the younger ones hesitate at Talla's words, but the leader doesn't flinch.

"You may be higher tier, but we have alchemical arms." He raises a hand and the boys behind him raise their guns towards us. "I offered to do this the easy way, but if you're going to make me ransom you back to your clan, then so be it."

"What do we do?!" I whisper urgently.

"Put out their guns!" Maggie urges me. "They can't fire if they aren't lit."

They're too far away—I can't do it from here and I'm worried that trying to get closer will escalate things.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Stay calm," Violet responds. "Let the rangers handle this."

"Brigands like these aren't worth the dirt between their hooves," Evelyn sneers. "The rangers should just kill them and be done with it."

Okay, wow. I wasn't expecting Evelyn to be the one advocating for violence, and it makes me want to sit her down and talk about the value of life, but at the same time they are pointing guns at us.

Talla sighs and shakes her head. "Fine then, have it your way..."

The bandit leader gives her a devilish grin. "Glad you could see it ou—argh!"

A sudden flash of blinding light cuts him off, followed by a chorus of curses, thumps, and a conspicuous lack of any gunshots. By the time I blink the light out of my eyes, the five kids are on the floor groaning and Draga has all of their guns in a pile at his feet.

"Sorry about that Allie," Talla chuckles. "I couldn't think of a way to warn you without giving myself away."

"[It's okay]," I say, still trying to speak Fa'aun as I rub my eyes behind my glasses. "[Don't hurt them—they're just stupid kids.]"

Draga gives me a curious glance. "I know that—but how do you?"

I'm not sure how to articulate my logic in Fa'aun, so I have to switch back and let Talla translate for me.

"Too many reasons," I sigh. "We're bad targets, this is a bad location, and they're terrible thieves. I don't think they know what they're getting into."

He nods appreciatively once Talla finishes relaying what I said. "Not bad. Looks like we're going to be visiting that village after all. These morons need to be brought back to their mothers, and while it's a bit of a distraction, I'd really like to know how they got their hands on these weapons."

"Is it that unusual for people to have guns?"

"Sort of," Talla answers for him. "They're expensive enough that anyone with half a brain would just sell them rather than try to rob a noble."

"Hey..." one of the boys protests weakly.

Draga inspects one of the pistols, frowning. "Military issue. Out of standard. Old but functional. I'll ask again—where did you get these?"

"I'm not telling you anything!" the young bandit leader spits.

"We'll see. Where's your village?"

"We don't have one!" a younger boy blurts out in a panic. "We're acting on our own!"

Talla scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Of course you are. You're far too stupid to be organized rebels. You can tell us where you live or Draga can find it—I promise not to raze the place either way."

"I was telling the truth about being a ranger," Draga adds. "I don't enjoy tracking at night, but I will find out if you're lying to me."

The leader returns to his feet, legs shaking and kicks the ground, defeated. "Fine..."

The boys start to shuffle off towards the river and Draga moves to follow.

"Come on," Talla says, waving me over. "You get to see some frontier justice."

I grimace. "I don't think that means the same thing in our languages. I hope it doesn't. What about..." I trail off, gesturing vaguely at the half-assembled camp.

"It'll keep," Talla assures me.

"We were literally just mugged."

"And now we've got the criminals in custody," she replies. "Don't fret. As you surmised, this kind of banditry isn't common so far out. I doubt these boys have anybody behind them."

"Then where did they get the guns?" Violet asks.

"That's what we're going to go find out," Talla replies. "Now come on, we're going to lose them."

* * *

It turns out that the village was pretty close by. We barely make it ten minutes into the forest before Talla's light catches someone's attention.

"Hello?" an elderly woman's voice calls out from the darkness. "Samaa, is that you?"

"Hello!" Talla returns the call. "We're rangers traveling down the great road bound for Stebaari—I believe we may have found some of your children getting into trouble."

That gets a reaction out of multiple hushed voices, and I catch what sounds like muted cursing and an exasperated sigh before the elderly woman responds.

"May we approach, my lady?"

"Please do."

Three women emerge from the treeline. In the lead, the elderly woman has grey fur and a hunched posture. Her entire body is covered by a loose robe that looks awfully hot for the climate, with a shawl draped over her shoulders. Flanking her, the other two women look younger—though I don't have much of a feel for Fa'aun ages. One has tawny fur and horns that point straight back, while the other has light golden fur and thick spiraling horns. Both are wearing simple shawls to cover their upper body and cloth sarongs around their waists.

None are armed, but the younger women are tense. The old one just looks tired as she ducks her head in greeting.

"I am elder Saara Foren, village head," she introduces herself. "I hope my lady can grant these poor clanless children her mercy. May I know how they have wronged you?"

"Hey, Eva, she talks like you!" Maggie remarks.

"It's called being polite, witch," Evie sneers back. "Perhaps you should try it yourself for once."

"They tried to rob us," Talla answers for the old woman. "And they were armed with what appears to be stolen military surplus—alchemical arms."

"What?!" one of the women next to the elder—the tawny one—snaps, shooting a withering look at the bandit leader, who wilts under her gaze. "I'm going to shave you naked, you little brat!"

The old woman ignores the outburst and sighs. "Foolishness. Though their actions were extreme, I hope you can treat them as mere youthful folly. I can promise that they'll be held to account."

"This is a bit more than young men who haven't quite outgrown their butting phase," Talla points out wryly. "But I'm willing to look the other way if you can tell us how they got these weapons."

The women exchange nervous glances, but the elder ignores them. "I cannot say for certain, but we did have another stranger pass through some months ago—before the solstice. He kept to himself and camped across the river, but he did come to the village to purchase supplies for his journey."

Talla frowns. "And he paid with alchemical arms?"

"No," the elder says. "We had nothing to spare. The river Sagaa has not been generous this year, and we've little more than stingroot and local forage. The men helped him repair his boat, and then he went on his way. That was the end of it." She eyes the five boys hanging their heads and frowns. "Or so we thought."

Draga crosses his arms, having mostly stayed silent so far. "Why would some traveler arm village boys like this?"

All eyes fall on the would-be bandit leader, who scowls and scuffs the ground with a hoof. "I'm not saying anything."

The woman who scolded him earlier marches over and grabs him by a horn, snarling furiously. "Samaa, if you don't tell these rangers everything you know about that stranger I will tie your horns to a horse and tell your father to ride it out into the desert until you stop screaming, do I make myself clear?"

I go a little pale. That's a rhetorical threat, right?

"Y-yes..." the boy groans.

"Yes what, Sam?" she demands.

"Yes, mother."