"Can't tell ya fer sure, but you oughta talk to the fella in charge. He's a youngin' — probably only a little older'n you. One 'a them real rich kids who ain't never gotten a solid beatin' before, even when they needed it. Runs the place just about as hard as he works his slaves, and not in a good way. Ev'n if he ain't gettin' his own hands dirty, ain't no way he don't know about the Sacred Beasts,” The stout hunter spits in irritation, grumbling. “Bet he ain't cuttin' down on his eat'n, even though they can't hunt nothin'."

To me, that seems normal. Of course a lord would get more privileges than a commoner, who would get more than a slave. However, that's clearly not a unanimous ideology.

From Master Naga's continued tightening, it seems he doesn't agree either.

"You said yer master sent ya, right? That master of yours is a good one, inn'e? Keeps the lords and ladies in line and don't punish us common folk for carryin' out orders, even when we're the ones carryin' out the pollutin'."

I nod absently, a little shocked by the man's clear adoration for Master Naga. It seems even if he doesn't interact with the commoners directly, he leaves a deep impression on them. It also seems that the hunter knows that it’s the villagers setting the traps, even if he claims not to know who amongst them is setting them. Likely a paltry attempt to protect them, even if he claims to believe Master Naga different from the noblility.

"He did," I reply simply, unsure how to reply to the second comment about him being a good master. Though I've been with him for a little over a month, our interactions have been limited, and even when we do speak, it's usually me being chastised.

The man seems satisfied nonetheless, nodding several times, light eyes drifting closed as he hums contentedly. "Well, no use in me hunting anymore today, lad. I'll take ya over ‘a the village." He claps me lightly on the back with a meaty and calloused hand.

I all but float along after him, slightly dazed at his happy chatting. It's entirely different than my interactions when my title was slave rather than Head Priest. I manage a few coherent responses to the ceaseless commentary he provides, his already thick accent getting even more difficult to understand when he talks about the village's new lord.

Master Naga slides about beneath my outer robes, twisting the inner robes around my chest before he moves to the billowy sleeves to settle. My unpleasantly limited perimeter scan finally picks up a little hut about twenty meters up. My bare feet are covered in damp leaves as we reach the road, making me grimace in embarrassment. Though Master Naga provided me with robes, he didn't think to add shoes, and given that I hadn't been given a title and that we were always on the island, it wasn't a problem. Now, however, because I'm representing my master, my improper clothing could be seen as his shortcoming.

I inconspicuously wipe my feet against each other to rid myself of the leaves, eyeing the run-down huts curiously.

I've never had this much autonomy over my functioning before, so I haven't seen many homes aside from my Masters', but even I can tell that this level of poverty isn't normal.

There are walls with boards rotting away, roofs that need patching, and people even sleeping out on the filthy streets. The smell is putrid, a mix of unwashed bodies and sewage. It's reminiscent of the orphanage, but my expression doesn't change, training well-ingrained after so many years of practice.

My bare feet are coated with a layer of white-hot electricity along the soles, sanitizing the sewage in the streets before it can touch me. If I fall ill on my first assignment, would that not reflect poorly on my master?

The orange-haired man looks curiously over at me. "Say, lad, where did your master find a pretty little thing like you? Ya haven't used any elemental magic since we met, but ya don't seem like the other little priests we've had come through over the years, sheltered from the world. Ya don’ look like it’s the first time ya’ve seen people on the streets."

I ponder for a moment how to answer his question. Would it be an embarrassment for Master Naga to have a slave as a Head Priest? I don't know much about priests, or whether they need to have elemental abilities. The closest I’ve ever had to interaction with one before being taken in by Master Naga was seeing them from across the courtyard when they came to do blessings or collect dues.

"Master Naga took me in not long ago. I served in the shrine to clean and work with the spirits before being appointed as the Head Priest,” I reply simply. All true, just missing a few details.

Master Naga remains still around my upper arm, so I think I've done okay.

"Master Naga took ya in? Where abouts' from?" The man continues obliviously.

"I traveled from household to household serving the lords a fair bit, so no one place in particular,” I hum. Evading the questions of a man like this as easy as breathing compared to the verbal acrobatics I've had to participate in to survive in my former Masters' houses.

"Ooh," The man lets out a noise of awe, "A right travelin' priest. I bet you've got your work cut out for ya, communin' with the gods for lords who don' iowanna listen."

I make a noncommittal noise, eyeing the large building we're approaching. Must be the village Lord's mansion.

Masters so rarely want to listen to their slaves, after all.

The hunter lifts a heavy golden knocker and bangs it three times against the ornate red-painted door. The design reminds me a bit of my second master. He always believed the superstition that having red at the doors would bring wealth.

A guard hauls the large doors open, eyes narrowing as he takes in my meager form. "Who are you?" He barks.

I bow ever so slightly, careful not to be too shallow lest they believe my master is rude, but not too deep either, as my master is highly ranked. "I am but a traveler. When passing through a village, one should greet the lord."

My words are smooth and casual, as though I really am just a passerby come to offer greetings to the owner of claimed land.

The guards bow and rise in sync. The hunter casts me a curious glance, but doesn't contradict my statement. The three men rise in sync, ushering me inside the gates and slamming the door in the hunter's face without allowing me so much as a moment to thank him for bringing me.

I'm led down increasingly gaudily decorated hallways toward a tea room to wait for the Lord to arrive.

Only after the guards have all left do I dare speak to Master Naga who is still wrapped securely around my upper arm. I stare with false serenity at the wall.

"Master Naga,” I hiss. “I can't speak up against a noble. It is above my station as a slave. I don't know how to do it." Though I no doubt appear calm, my mind feels like it's about to fracture into a million tiny pieces. Without a direct order from my master, my old training will take precedence and I will likely be unable to handle the conflict in priorities.

Thankfully, my master is quite clever and has grown to understand a fair bit about my inability to disobey his orders. While he seems to dislike giving them, constantly pushing me to make decisions on my own, he is willing when it is a steep departure from my base commands. The level of detail required for me to properly serve him is also rather overlooked, but considering he has not had many — if any — slaves before me, that is understandable, and something that

"Do what it takes to determine whether the Lord is the culprit behind the poisons." He pauses, slit-pupiled eyes watching me intently. "Can you kill people, Shiori?" Master Naga asks unexpectedly.

"If Master Naga's life is in danger, of course. I am proficient in both offensive and defensive capabilities. Shall I kill him if he is the perpetrator?" I ask softly. The little snake shakes its head quickly, white scales smooth and clear in the oversaturated room.

"No, no. Just use your words to get him to confess, if you can. It would be too much paperwork if he was to be killed. He is the lord of a village, albeit a bad one."

I nod my understanding, releasing my hold on my collar as an energy signature enters my range.

I freeze at the familiarity of it, feeling that my luck couldn't get any worse.

Master Naga notices my sudden change in behavior but doesn't get the chance to ask before the doors are thrown open by an all-too-familiar nouveau riche twenty-something.

Fuck. My luck is really too bad. Of all the villages I could be sent to, why does it have to be my second master's? Especially when Master Naga is here.

"1802?" My second master, Master Theodore's incredulous splutter accosts my ears.

"Master Theodore, I didn't expect to see you here." Because Master Naga never told me what the village we were going to was.

Master Naga slithers from my shoulders down and around my chest like he's pouting. I suppress my amusement at his childish behavior. He already owns me, why is he jealous of my former masters?

Master Theodore's blue eyes, sharp and indulgent, scan my body, lingering on my neck and the well-crafted clothes I'm wearing. "Looks like you found a new master to wrap around your little finger, you little harlot.” He strides forward, his leer pressing like a brand wherever his gaze lands. “You were good in bed, but not enough to give you such well-made robes.

He circles me slowly, footsteps drawing nearer and nearer until his breath hits my ear. "Come back to me," he orders quietly.

Well, if nothing else, Master Theodore has never lacked confidence. I would say it’s good to see, but he is a rather loathsome man, so that would be a lie.

"Master Theodore, you sold me. I do not belong to you anymore, and my new Master ordered me to come back when I have completed my trip." It's a lie, but since Master Naga has been squeezing me progressively tighter as the conversation has gone on, I doubt I'll be punished.

Master Theodore scoffs. "You were mine first, there's nothing wrong with taking you back." His hand slides down my waist, grabbing and groping over the layers. Never have I been so grateful for what I’ve been complaining about — only in my mind, of course — in the stuffy priest’s garb.

I close my eyes, sealing myself off from what's happening. Bile presses at my throat as he touches me. Despite my desire to simply electrocute him, Master Naga's words keep me still.

Just use your words to get him to confess if you can. It would be too much paperwork if he was to be killed.

"Master Theodore, you do not have my master's permission to lay a hand on me." My voice is soft and my eyes downcast, but I don't curb the warning in my words.

"Your master? I don't see him." He bites the shell of my ear harshly before ripping my robes open, tearing the delicate ties. I don't even have time to hide Master Naga before the now-loose fabric slips down my shoulders, leaving me in loose pants and my under robes, Master Naga wrapped around my torso, hissing loudly and baring extended fangs before lunging into his human form.

He towers above a pale-faced Master Theodore, loose strands of blond curls looking more frazzled than elegant as they had moments ago.

"I believe Shiori said no,” he intones quietly, a deadly edge to his voice. "He isn't yours to do as you please with anymore, Theodore." Master Naga wraps a possessive arm around my waist, tucking me halfway behind him and shielding me with his shoulder.

"M-Master Naga." Though this village isn't one of the ones under Master Naga's protection, his job as an environmental protector precedes him.

It looks like he wants to hit the fallen man, and while that would be enjoyable to see, I tug on his sleeve.

"Master Naga, we're here for the sacred beasts, not a property dispute." Speaking back to my master is distasteful, but killing him would be trouble for the investigation.

With another black look at Master Theodore, he pulls off the long cloak he was wearing and wraps it around my shoulders, cinching the ties as tight as they go — though they remain loose given my much smaller frame — before leading me out.

I sigh quietly. It will be much more difficult to get him to talk now that he knows Master Naga is here investigating. Nonetheless, I'm grateful he protected me. Master Theodore has always had very particular interests.

Once we get out of the gates, the old hunter jumps away from the wall and hastens over to me, worry creasing his weathered face.

"You alright, little fella?" He eyes me closely, taking in the cloak wrapped tightly around my body, the redness of my ear, and the man beside me.

"Ah, is this the god you speak for?" He asks quietly, leaning in to avoid being overheard.

I glance at Master Naga for permission to confirm the old man's theory. When Master Naga nods I reply, "Yes, this is Master Naga." The man's eyes widen so much I think they might fall out of his head before he turns tail and runs toward the main village, shouting all the while that Master Naga is here and they need to prepare a feast. It seems he forgot who I serve in his surprise.

Master sighs with a fond smile at the man's antics.

"How do you wish me to proceed, Master Naga?" I don't bother holding his cape closed as I turn toward him, preoccupied with ways to manage the situation I caused.