Earlier on, after I'd miraculously defeated the "alpha," I managed to get a good look around Migo Tavern. Q-Tip even thought to give me a tour, which was where I found a nice, cozy square room beside the kitchen. Just walking into it, it felt like the perfect place to stow away the blacksmith's daughter's unconscious body. I had my men tie her up and put her in there while I drained her memories.
Before I did anything, I looked at her, lying there helplessly with copper curls carelessly sprawled around her pale body and the knots holding her limbs together. As I stooped down to keep her mind close, I noticed Q-Tip watching, suspiciously intrigued. I glanced up at him, questioning his curiosity.
"Is that what you did to Caelan, Sir?" he timidly asked. "Migo's previous leader?" Quickly, I thought back to the moments before "Caelan" had me knocking on death's door. I scanned my memory and I couldn't manage to fins anyone who looked remotely like Q-Tip in the tavern. I looked up at him, asking him my question with an analytical look. "No, Sir," he shook his head. "I come here often, but I didn't go last night because I had work this morning." I nodded, and put this piece of information in the back of my mind to free up space for Oddisya's memories.
I pressed my nails into my palms and focused my vision on her mind. Rapidly, I felt my eyes heat up and I could even see rays of their light illuminating Oddisya's hair to a bight orange. A faint click sound rang in my ears, and I found myself disjointed from my body. Instead, I was floating in a small, circular and familiar room with memory slides speeding around me in circles. I looked around and the breeze from the motion calmed and I went up to a slide.
Normally, I'd only take the ones that felt like they had any significance to me and discard the rest, an act that took less than two or three minutes. A few seconds even if I simply erase the person's mind and keep nothing for myself. Later on, if I took something, I'll play it and gather what information I can from it.
With Oddisya however, an insanely huge chunk of her life felt as though every second had some importance, plus a extra few moments here and there. Hungry, I dived in, expecting the swift motions I was used to. On the contrary, her slides seemed to operate on a completely different control system than the hundreds, possibly thousands, of minds I've wiped. When I tried to save a slide, it simply enlarged and played right there and then. Other slides saw this as an invitation to join a party and soon I was swarmed by dozens of memories yelling over one another. None of the slides allowed me to control anything. And when I tried to leave, more slides appeared and played. They quickly had me entrapped in this impenetrable circle.
Abruptly, I was jolted back into my own being. Blinking, my vision slowly returned and I looked up and saw Q-Tip with a hand on my shoulder. His eyes darted back and forth with fear as he backed up and gave me room to breathe. After a moment of thought, I reached for my sack and flipped through the poems. Q-Tip tensed up and quickly stammered, "S-sorry, Sir, but you were spasming and I wasn't sure what to do!" Focused in on my task, I paid him no mind and pulled out a poem called Enter. One that I'd only ever read once, never fully understanding its meaning.
Enter my eyes, step and look through my gaze
Give my views a chance, give them a place
I only asked for the best for me, you, him
Her, it, we--no one deserves this treatment
Enter the cruelest, gruesome place we've ever laid our eyes on
And please release those trapped within themselves and in others arms
Only then return to me, if you ever even bother to do this
Only then enter the afterlife I've carefully, lovingly built
As I finished reading the poem quietly to myself, I clutched the paper, attempting to decipher it. The fourth and third last lines especially grabbed my attention. I knew for a fact my mother was the only author to any of these poems, so "we" had to be referring to something bigger. Closing my eyes I envisioned and work camp at Thirty-One, overrun with abused Lenties forced to labor their lives away.
I stood and looked down at Oddisya. Before me lay a girl protected by some sort of spell, something that few Lenties are able to pull off while conscious, never mind blacked out. Clearly, the girl didn't wield the power to even think of doing such a thing, so someone else was behind this.
For a solid minute, an image of of a woman flashed through my mind. She had long floor-length, curly silvery hair and a matching tail that flared out, where one ended and the other began, I was unsure. Her torso resembled that of a muscular woman, save a few markings and horns, meanwhile her legs had completely morphed to something a stallion maybe would grow. She towered above a cauldron, the blood-red bubbles' glow matching her eyes, chanting something that sounded like utter gibberish.
The last line, however, stuck with me: "With this, I forever shield Jeyapresh, Sundae, and Oddisya Zech from any intrusive and/or destructive spells."
Barely above a whisper I asked, "How possible would venturing to Thirty-One be?" Slowly, Q-Tip and the several strongmen surrounding the room huddled up closer around me. Looking around, I saw an assuring look or smile on each man's face, and felt a sense of confidence quickly build up within me. Along with it, a strange urge to go up north for once. I straightened my posture and announced, "To the northernmost Thirty-One Territory it is."
By nightfall, Migo Tavern was empty save a few men guarding the storage room where the rest of us hid and prepared. Throughout the day, the little rations these men had was made known to me, so we planned to simply stop by a few Lent towns to trade for supplies. And if they refused to trade, we'd just have to forcefully burrow the equipment we needed. Q-Tip worried about the consequences, but I reassured him, saying that if any conflicts arise, we can always just use my spells and calm down any person who got too rowdy and simply continue on.
Around three hours after sunset, we had all our horses and materials set and created a special bag just for Oddisya. It was a brown sack, tied to mimic the bags of supplies we'd already hooked up to the steeds, with a few breathing holes and some pillows for comfort. We threw her in the front of the cart we packed for the strongest stallion to haul. And just like that, I and around two and a half dozen men crept through the streets of Gyran and slipped through the northern Border.
For a decent part of the night, we went straight north. While we covered ground, the men started craving certain foods and drinks which we simply just didn't have access too. At some point, the complaints and whines became excessive so I decided to just set up camp and raid a District Four Lent town in the morning. However, in the place we settled, I noticed another issue.
Up until that point, we'd been cautious to avoid official District lands and only travel along the skirts of Lent towns. Now, right by District Four, there was a gulf of water, minimizing the land so Four had greedily grabbed every piece it found somewhat useful. Four's fifteen Lent towns then grabbed the remaining land and "town outskirts" were essentially nonexistent in District Four. Looking around, I saw we'd have to travel in a straight line to avoid intruding.
Turns out, I wasn't the only one who noticed this. Soon after the men settled on a plateau on the edge of Sedine, a northern Three Lent town, Q-Tip came up to me, intending to discuss the very thing on my mind, "Sir Bu, though I believe you can already tell, District Four spared nearly no land by the Gulf." In the corner of my field of view, I saw a stout man who barely reached my shoulders, despite me not being all that tall myself. I didn't even tilt my head towards him, instead focusing on the band of men who instead of resting and recharging, chose to stay up and make a ridiculous amount of racket.
"We'll just have to find some sort of clearing," I answered, acting as though I was paying him no mind. Due to the noise made by the "sleeping" troop, I was forced to raise my voice over them and fully expected someone from Sedine to notice them and come out to try and silence them.
"Sir," Q-Tip called, his voice louder and sterner than I'd ever heard it. "The remaining area is all occupied by fifteen different overpopulated miniature Lent towns. Looting is not at all advised, all but Fijeral are on the brink of bankruptcy."
Slightly irritated, I huffed, "Hm." Looking down towards my shoes, I managed to see Q-Tip's feet stumble back in what I assumed was fear. Discreetly, I smiled to myself then lifted my head and straightened my posture. Giving the pathetic man before me an emotionless gaze, I commented, "You know, that was my father's name."
"Anyhow," he coughed and continued on. "I suggest we head South and stow away on a ship heading for Territory in the Pacific." I paused, noticing that Q-Tip only seemed to get more brash, even after my subtle warning.
"It'll take too long," I muttered, annoyed. He refused to understand how important this trip was and how even this one break could be fatal. We needed to hurry up and we couldn't waste time going back towards Gyran.
Arrogantly, Q-Tip shook his head at me, "Not much longer than going--"
"Clam it, Q-Tip!" I snapped. Not only did the son of a bitch standing before me flinch, but a couple men within a certain range looked over, all of them awaiting my next move. A similar fire to the one that burned in me the day before was set ablaze in my heart, and a part of me wished to send him to hell with just a few of my mother's verses. Yet, a different side pointed out how reckless and idiotic that would be, so I squeezed my eyes shut and explained in a hoarse voice, "My mother is up there, somewhere, and I intend on finding her. No, I have to find her, no matter the damned cost."
Time seemed to slow down and everything started to hurt. Throat burning, heart pounding, knees weak, eyes stinging--I felt just about ready to crumble. However, it didn't feel like a breakdown, I wasn't that upset, and I couldn't find a reason for me to be so distraught anyhow. I held my hands up against my eyes, and I could feel their glow radiating onto my palms. My eyes' glow wasn't connected to my emotions at all, they always meant something.
Then, I remembered Papa. The twelve years of what he loved to remind me was happiness. The false hope he filled my naive self with. His final moments. Continue for me, son, his final words. The broken promises and empty apologies. The knife, its cuts, its damage. Him ending his new life right as it was forming. The dripping blood of a man I always hoped I'd one day forget.
Then; Mama.
"Q-Tip," I called, keeping my tone as steady as I could through the pain I felt. "Gather my men and put all their names in a sack of some sort. I will then randomly select who will stay back to fight off the inevitable search party from Gyran and who shall continue on with me." By this time, everyone, save Q-Tip, had returned to the rowdy bunch of frequent bartenders they were. So I snarkily added on, "And remind them to shut their yaps, for Pete's sake, it's the middle of the night." A keen, abrupt affliction in my lower abdomen had me gripping to my side, desperately applying pressure to calm the storm.
Watching my performance, Q-Tip slowly asked, "...Should I include myself as well?"
I could almost hear the click in my head as my volume gradually rose, "After speaking to me with such disregard of my mother, do you really expect me to favor you?"
His gaze and demeanor fell and he obediently nodded. "Of course," he mumbled. "My apologies, Sir Bu."
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