The Albino

Jukha tried to focus on the two-track road ahead. Benjamin seemed to retreat into himself, and whatever had happened to the pale skinned man tore him away from reality whenever he was not actively engaged with. Actively speaking to the possible H’mure was the last thing Jukha wanted to do, so he contented himself with the relative silence. His wagon creaked and rattled slightly, and the flox knew the well-travelled way. Jukha mulled over what his beloved had told him. Benjamin did not look like the artist rendition of the of the H’mureanis of old. He had no fiery red eyes, His hair was a Firey red, but that wasn’t correct either. All the H’mure tales boasted of a beast of long flowing golden locks, claws from its fingertips and long downward facing fangs that were rumored to inject toxic venom into their victims for fun as well as for killing. Benjamin was distinctly lacking in these characteristics. Yes, the pink skin was powerfully built, but his teeth were largely flat and rounded. His fingernails ended at the tips of his fingers, equally unimpressively blunt. His eyes were a vibrant green and lacked the viscous edge of the historical artwork. They seemed hollow, empty, devoid of true malice even when he prepared himself for violence upon mistaking the skinning knife for a threat. The only thing he shared with H’mure was his skin, a pale pinkish hue, devoid of all but the thinnest whisps of body hair.

Benjamin shook himself, life seeming to come back to the present. The trees were alive with song, and the pink skin took a deep breath before turning to Jukha, “So, what do I need to know about this village. I wouldn’t even know if I was stepping on any toes until its too late.”

Jukha raised an eyebrow at another strange expression, “I.. think I get your meaning. Most peoples stick to themselves, and their own cultures can vary widely. Out this far into the wilds, many do not have that luxury in their working lives, and there are a few basic understood rules of decorum. The first, we already have dealt with. Falsehoods are a universal transgression going back to an age of darkness thousands of years ago. Violations of free personhood generally begins at physical touch, although this becomes… loose… this far away from any formal township with a paid guard. In general, if it feels like you shouldn’t do it, don’t; and be willing to protect your own person. We will be together for this trip, but it will not always be so. I suggest we get you at least a dagger or large knife, just in case.”

“I see… I do not have anything to purchase such an Item.” Ben offered thoughtfully, “perhaps I should inquire about employment.”

“For now, consider a reasonable dagger as payment for aiding me with the skinning and transporting of the Deer. I do not know what jobs you may be suited for, but asking around may not hurt.” Jukha sized up Benjamin. “May I ask, what skill do you have, or remember having.”

Benjamin thought for a long moment. “I was in school to learn how to design and make… things. I don’t know if you would have them here. I guess the best way to describe them would be machines. Things made of wood and metal designed to do something like pump water. Or move dirt. This wagon for example. I was in school to learn how to be able to create a better wagon.”

“You seen a bit old to be in school.” Jukha offered, “Most everyone out here learns the basics, and a trade. They maybe learn one language to read and right if they are lucky, and that is complete by the age of 10.” He thought for a moment. “Was this something more? Like an Artificer’s academy, or the Realms Literary Academy?”

“Something closer to that.” Benjamin confirmed, “I did not start this schooling until I was 18 years old. Before that sounds like what you describe, the basics.”

“Hmm. Well, I do not know if your skills will be useful. You could hunt for money, like myself, but the village already has three.” Jukha slowed the cart as a small wooden wall with lanterns fixed atop it came into view. “I’m sure you will find something. For now, let us meet with the innkeep.” The cart was at a walking pace from the previous trot, and Benjamin tried not to stare, past them walked an 8 ft tall seemingly lanky being made of stone. Its arms seemed to overly large in proportion to its body, with its wrists reaching its knee’s ending in bulbus hands that looked like they could be clenched into a respectable mace if needed. Its eyes seemed to be made of a quartz geode pattern with dark Irises and a piercing gaze. The lumbering being met his gaze with equal curiosity as it passed the cart, headed out of the village.

“Garvak! How goes the mining!” Jukha called to the lanky stone skinned creature, who paused to turn to him.

A voice that reminded Ben of a rockslide echoing through a deep valley in the Rockies responded in a slow language that he could not understand. Jakhu seemed to smile and nod at the response, “Congratulations are in order then. A new vane will be welcome for many.” Another echoing avalanche followed while Jakhu glanced at Ben. “He is a recent acquaintance. He helped me quarter my latest hunt. He is new to this area and looking for work.” The lanky rock creature nodded before giving a parting rumble and resuming his trek out of the village.

Jakhu noticed Ben’s expression and chuckled, “She is a” the Orc uttered a poor imitation of the rumbling language, “In Orcish, the closest translation would be Child of the Mountain. Most other races just call them Mountain Trolls. Do you have trolls in your people’s fiction stories?”

“We did, but they were nothing like that. They were usually large and fat, lived under bridges or in mountains, were incredibly stupid, and turned to stone if they were caught in direct daylight.” Benjamin smiled sadly as the conversation brought his sister back to mind. She truly did love classic fantasy stories.

Jukha just laughed heartily, “Your people have a wild imagination, but it might be best to keep any preconceptions to yourself. The Children of the Mountain are one of the more intelligent races in the Realm, and expert miners.”

Ben just nodded, silently wondering just how many more creatures he would meet that shared the names from Tracy’s beloved stories. He wondered what they would look like as the wagon grumbled to a halt in front of a roughhewn wooden building that stood two stories tall, looking more like a double-decker log cabin than an Inn. The odor of stables and thrown refuse intensified the further they travelled into town punctuating its presence as the side stable opened and yet another new creature revealed itself to Benjamin. It was a furry creature, about 4 feet tall and had a face like what Benjamin imagined a humanized Fruit Bat would look like. The being wore males clothing, waddling slightly on its shorter legs, but sported an extra pair of arms and hands. One pair of hands carried a round tuber looking plant of some kind while the other pair carried a halter line. “Jukha! Back so soon? You haven’t found a new nectar hole, have you?” The being chittered flashing a mouth full of small but sharp teeth. Somehow, the higher pitched rolling chitter mixed with what he had learned was the Orcish language seemed to clash violently. If Jukha thought the same he did not show it, instead hopping down to greet the being, “Chorren! I thought you were home helping with the new clutch!”

“I was” chittered ‘Chorren’, “Teeka, got tired of me. Told me to go make more coin for the hatchlings.” Chorren rubbed the Flox’s nose tossing the strange treat into its mouth as it bawled appreciatively. “After all, She didn’t marry me for my skills with raising children, only making them.” Jukha snorted at the joke.

“We will be staying the night, Chorren. Same as always?” Jukha asked hopping down and nodding to Ben.

“Indeed. 4 bronze for hay and board, 6 if you would like a hook up in the morning.” Chorren answered rubbing the Flox affectionately as the Ben and Jukha collected the skin and the sacks of quartered deer.

Juhka seemed to think for a minute before deciding. “6 will do as always, Chorren. See you at mid-morning. This is Benjamin, a new acquaintance. I’ll be showing him around the village and helping him see if he can find work. He is far from home.”

“Howdy.” Ben mumbled raising a quick hand in greeting.

Chorren cocked his head for a moment before shrugging, “You are a strange one. Greetings. You speak Orcish, but You look like No Orc I have met.”

“I’m… Not entirely sure what I am anymore…” Benjamin just shrugged.

“Hmm, well you look like an Albino. Jukha’s people occasionally bring pink Orcs into the world. Your eyes are about the right color, weird hair though.” Chorren prattled, walking up to take a look at Ben. “I guess if you don’t know what you are, an Albino is as good a name as any.”

Benjamin only shrugged uncomfortably. Being reminded that he may not be human anymore only served to elevate his heart rate, threatening to bring back another of those horrible flashbacks. “I guess it will have to do.” He managed, turning quickly to follow Jukha into the establishment.

It took Benjamin his entire force of will not freeze in the entrance. Several races were inside, in various states of either relaxing, eating, or drinking. Several Orcs, 6 inches taller than Jukha and almost double his weight by Benjamin’s eye sat in a corner. They would have met the stereotype of Tracy’s stories except for one thing. They were objectively handsome, and wore shining, well kept armor with a code of arms. Immaculately kept weapons either rode at their sides or were leaned up against the wall within arm’s reach. Their eyes tracked him with practiced scrutiny, showing careful neutrality.

The Rest of the establishment was less civilized. Several new to Benjamin races stared back at him, several men, with roughhewn faces, bald heads and large wide beards that seemed to writhe on their own, adorned themselves with a pair of extremely thin, almost to the point of starving, women that appeared to be not much older than his sister. Matted greyish purple hair draped across their faces, and their bodies were loosely covered in course dresses that, in Ben’s previous life, barely would have counted as a potato sack with holes cut for head and arms. They might have been pretty girls at one time, but emaciation, bruises and scraped skin spoke to a much more brutal existence. Several more girls from this same thin, fragile race seemed to exist in various states of neglect. Some of them were dressed in more finery, accompanied by a male of the same level of adornment, but everyone, to a face, wore the same hopeless expression.

Less prevalent, were tall red skinned women with a pair of horns extending from powerful forarms drinking in the opposite corner, and Benjamin noticed they wore chains attached to their belts. These chains ran to a clasp around the necks of what appeared to be males from several species, including ones from the men sitting not 20 feet away, and at least one of the bat race. One man seemed to be almost the same race as the women in rags, and all of the chained males were dressed in nothing but a loin cloth, covered in matted hair and bruised skin. ‘Slaves’ Benjamin seethed internally. Human history was littered with slavery of all races and creeds. From the Vikings taking slaves during their raids on Europe, to both the Muslims and Christians of the Crusade era taking their own human property as perverted spoils of war, to the African slave trade of the 16th, 17th, 18th and early 19th centuries. Even today, in the more reclusive parts of Earth, dehumanizing practice, renamed “Human Trafficking”, was still alive and well.

He recognized the evil in front of him, and it boiled his blood… He stood there trying not to lash out, knowing full well the room would not respond with the intent of his survival. He needed to stay calm, find a way out…

Jukha rapped Benjamin on the back, seemingly noticing the pink skin’s reaction, “Come Ben, let us make our sale and retire for the night.” Their eyes met, and Benjamin realized the Jukha was both agreeing with Benjamin’s reaction and protecting him from doing anything foolish.

Benjamin took a deep breath and nodded. The rest of the occupants were interesting in their own right. A Wolf seemed to be content sitting at the bar nursing a beverage, A few more of those 4 armed fruit bat people, and one very long fingered, almost arachnid looking individual with large eyes and an extra pair of legs were among the congregation of races staring at Benjamin as he walked alongside Jukha to a second Arachnid being behind the counter. “Mi’kivixus, I see you have a lively evening ahead of you.” The Orc raised an eyebrow that seemed to encompass the mass of living beings in the.

“Jukha, you know my full name irritates me. Why do you harass me so...” The musical female voice startled Benjamin out of his anger, looking up at her sharply as Jukha laughed.

“That, is why I do so. Dearest Mi’ki, meet Benjamin, my newest acquaintance and the one responsible for aiding me in getting you the freshest kill you will have seen in quite a while.”

“Oh, hoh? Well met Benjamin.” the Arachnid Innkeeper huffed, as Jukha pulled a corner of a flank out of one of the sacks they both were carrying. A quick swipe of a clawed finger, and Mi’ki slipped a sliver of meat into her mandibles. “Oh. Less than a week, cured well, this will do nicely. I can give you 3 silver 20.” She said quickly.

“Make it 5 silver, and the rooms for a night.” Jukha responded without hesitation, smiling widely at their customary game.

“4, and the rooms and breakfast for the two of you” Mi’ki clicked her mandibles a few times.

“Always a pleasure doing business with you. We have an accord.” Jukha smiled shaking one dangerously sharp looking flawed hand/appendage. A second clawed hand withdrew a pair of large keys and placed them on the bar.

“The two room at the end of the east hall.” She said quickly. “Have a wonderful slumber.” She almost Coo’d at Jukha, intentionally making the Orc uncomfortable. The two of them dropped the quartered meat in the back room, retaining the pelt and ascending the stairs towards their rooms. Benjamin took one key, handing the other to Jukha. The Orc opened his room and put a hand on Benjamin’s shoulder as his hands shook slightly as he attempted to open his own door

“Benjamin...” Jukha asked cautiously.

“Jukha… If you are worried about me going back down, there… Don’t, but I think I need to be alone right now.” Benjamins didn’t look at Jukha, finally getting the key in the lock and disappearing into the door. The door clicked shut and Benjamin started hyper ventilating. ‘What the fuck…’ He stumbled to the basic bed in the room, sitting down as he stared at his hands. His knuckles were almost pure white atop the fists he clenched. It was too much, His soul burned with a fury he could barely contain; and he hurled the key across the room just to see it freeze in mid air. Slowly, a glowing orb formed around the key heating it red hot before it fell to the floor hissing as it burned the wood.

“You…” Benjamin breathed. The figure who had pulled him from his own death, The one who had requested his soul slowly coalesced inside his room.

“Son of Terra…” That familiar voice said, “Now you see, but the surface…”

“But what am I to do? Slavery, in the open… flaunted… and yes, I know what those... slaves… were purchased for.” Benjamin growled.

“This is only a symptom. What do you know of the H’mure.” The being asked.

“Nothing, I know nothing of this world other than the one tongue I learned as a fluke of where I arrived.” Benjamin pierced her with a glare, “You promised to help me where you could, I’m calling in that marker.” For the first time, he saw the being of light take a small step back before responding.

Sol sighed, “It would be better if you learned of this world’s history from the people who reside in it. I… cannot tell it too you.”

Benjamin surged to his feet; his voice cold. “You can’t ‘tell it to me’? You claim to be my planets FUCKING SON, the star it orbits… and you can’t be bothered to give me a history lesson!?!”

“It is not that simple. The star you call Sol is my body in your physical universe, but It is also my body in this one as well as countless others.” Sol stated overpowering the fear a mere mortal had somehow manifested in her.

Benjamin wanted to shrug her away, but he did not. She put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m not on another world am I.” He breathed. The realization drove him back into sitting on the bed. “This… This is Earth… or… some version of it...”

“Yes and No. I am sorry, Son of Terra; but I am bound by a code older than your big bang in this. I can still give you aid within my power.” Sol answered softly.

“What good is it if I don’t know what your allowed to do.” Benjamin snarled shrugging off her hand and pacing the room. “I’m alone, probably dead… In a ‘Realm’ that flaunts people as their own personal property… I have no resources, no weapons, no back up, no contacts… I don’t even know enough of the languages to properly start a movement…” He stomped up to a literal star, “I.. Have… Nothing…”

“Ask, Son of Terra. Ask and I will see if I can give. That is all I can promise.” Sol replied, meeting his gaze.

Benjamin began pacing. “I need intel, that you cannot give me. And I will need an edge. I need… I need..” He sat down, his mind racing at the speed of thought. He pushed through all of history, everything from Mesopotamia, to the fall of Rome… From the Crusades, to the War on Terror, there had to be something.

“The Forest, Son of Terra..” Sol’s response froze him. He looked up sharply as her tone registered. She only gazed back at him with an expression that seemed to pierce into his own soul.

“I know what I need to request of you.” Benjamin realized out loud, and Sol stood to approach him. He felt that familiar heat as she closed until their foreheads almost touched.

“I believe I can grant this...” She whispered, clasping the back of his head with her hand, and pressing their foreheads together. “Now sleep, Son of Terra.”