Thanks are in order to everyone for the positive reviews. I appreciate them! A compliment always compels me to continue my work. I hope you enjoy the upcoming chapters, too.
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The following day was as cloudy as the previous day had been sunny. Smoky grey clouds floated overhead, the air saturated with humidity. Faint peals of thunder were heard from far away. It looked as if the weather would eventually be stormy.
Muarim browsed a stand covered with wood carvings of all kinds. Whoever had done the carving was exceptionally talented. He made a purchase, and the merchant wrapped it in cloth and tied it with a string. He went over to where Lethe was across the street. She was at a cloth and leathershop stall, examining gauntlets to replace the one that was sliced apart yesterday. Her tail swiped side to side as she haggled with the shopkeep. She turned and noticed him.
"Oh, there you are. Help me pick out a glove. Do you know anything about leather?"
"Sort of. I can tell what quality it is, anyways."
"Good." She handed him two different gauntlets, a light buckskin one and a dark, boiled leather one. He looked them both over. Then he flexed both of them, feeling the seams and observing the buckles.
"The dark one has much tougher leather, so it would probably offer more overall protection. However, it's impractical compared to the buckskin. Buckskin is supple and can bend and flex much more easily than boiled leather. It's unbeatable in terms of flexibility once you break it in."
"Buckskin it is, then," she replied, turning back to the vendor.
Muarim's eyes wandered to the expensive scarves that hung over the counter. They were all made of a very fine silk with tiny stitches of embroidery on the sides. The ends were fringed with tiny silver bells. The bright colors were like a rainbow, offering shades of reds, greens, blues, and violets. Lethe finished buying her gauntlet, and they walked to the street.
"This gauntlet seems to be quality," Lethe commented. "How do you know so much about everything? Do you spend time looking this stuff up?"
"I just know how to get the best out of my money." Muarim shifted the leather bag on his back. "It isn't hard to buy when you know what you're looking for."
"I'm anticipating wearing it. My hand is still too swollen, though." She traced her bandaged hand with a claw.
"It should go away soon. I have had similar injuries. Puncture wounds like that are some of the fastest to heal."
Lethe wondered where exactly he had received a wound similar to hers, but she said nothing. Suddenly, she felt a blink of rain fall onto her nose. Then one on her arm. Then several more. Soon, it began to shower.
She hissed. "I hate rain. And it looks like it's going to come down hard. Let's find somewhere sheltered." She dashed ahead on the quickly muddying path, and Muarim followed. He thought that her pace was a bit breakneck. She must really dislike the rain, he thought.
Where the merchant street ended, the forest began. Another road ran perpendicular, however, and led to large neighborhoods of tree-carved huts. Along the street, resting in the forest half was a giant hollowed out treetrunk carved for sitting. They took refuge there.
The celerity of the rain began to increase, and soon angry waves of raindrops were sieging everything around them. The air became cool and wet, heat dissipating into the skies.
Across from the shelter, three little laguz were playing in the rain. The two older ones were cats, girls wearing little dresses that rapidly became covered in the splashing mud, their tiny cat tails bouncing with every step. They squealed every time the grime swished up from the puddled road. The other laguz was a round little tiger who seemed content to wave his chubby arms in the mud and try to build a house out of it. He wasn't much older than a baby, his blue eyes round and curious. Suddenly, a tall, imposing female laguz with strong arms opened the door of her hut and yelled. The older ones took tail and ran into the house, and the mother gave them a good thumping as they came in. The toddling one looked confused as she swept him into her arms and gave him a kiss, carrying him out of the rain.
Lethe watched this and snickered. "Look at those kittens. That sure brings me back. I used to be just like that, except my mother couldn't make me go in if I didn't want to."
Muarim smiled a distant smile. "I'm sure you were a very independent girl."
"Yes, I was. I've always been that way. I still cared about my family, even if I drove them crazy. It's too bad they departed so suddenly. I barely had my adult fangs in when they passed away." There was a bar of silence. "Do you ever think back about your family?"
Muarim's face looked blank, as if he were not present at the moment. "Back in Begnion...we didn't have families like they are normally."
"What do you mean?"
He was silent, staring at the ground, palms grinding into his legs.
Lethe sensed there was something about the subject that hurt him. She closed her eyes. "Don't answer me...if you don't want to."
"No. I will answer you. There need to be witnesses of what happened so it is never forgotten again. It might take me a while to speak of, though."
"We have time. The rain is still fierce, and I will not walk through it."
Muarim folded his arms tightly to his chest and closed his eyes as he began speak.
"As you know, I grew up as a slave in a wealthy beorc home in Begnion. The word wealthy is an understatement. Not only did they possess all the gold they desired, but their political power was enormous. Anything...unscrupulous that they did was easily swept under the rug with a bag of coins or a bid to a higher position.
"I was one of over a hundred slaves that secretly worked on their giant estate. Their house wasn't even the biggest. I heard reports of families that owned well over five-hundred laguz slaves.
"Labor was back-breaking. All of us were doing difficult, tiring tasks from dawn to dusk. Sometimes we would have to work well into the night. It left us very little time for socializing with each other. We did when we were not called on, in our barracks. We would talk and find what little recreation we could. Relationships of a romantic nature, however, were strictly forbidden. Those who were caught in such entanglements were beaten, or had even worse punishments."
Lethe was shell-shocked at everything he just said. "You didn't have little ones around then, did you?" she asked hopefully, her veins surging with hatred. She could not stand the idea of children forced to work such dire jobs.
Muarim has a very grim look on his face. "We had plenty. It was a result of the breeding."
"Breeding?" Lethe was infuriated. "What do you mean?"
"The cheapest way for these homes to get new slaves was to get them from the ones they already had. To these beorc with noble blood, laguz are not 'human'. They are below 'human'. In honesty, we were no better than dogs to them. They saw us as property, and not as living creatures, but things to serve them.
"Owners of a house would observe qualities of various slaves, and based on the traits they wanted, would force them...to do as they said. They would give them a room to live in for a month, and if no offspring was produced, they were beaten or passed off as sterile and given the lowest work possible.
"After this, they were not allowed to live as a family. They would often sell or trade either the mother or father to prevent one from taking root. The child would live with the mother until they were old enough to take care of themselves to some extent. They found that taking a child from their mother too early would more often than not cause it to perish.
"This was the perfect system, in their twisted minds, to get more slaves. They would be free except for what little it cost to sustain them, and unlike the wilder laguz that traders captured and sold, their whole lives would be shaped around serving. They would know nothing else, and dream of nothing else, their paws chained forever to the miserable keep."
Lethe was visibly shaking with rage and bewilderment. "Did they...did you..."
"No, praise the goddess, they never used me, though I'm sure they would have had I been there much longer. I sometimes think back to it and wonder what I would have done, having a child I'd never know and a mate I never loved. I don't know if I could ever live with that."
Lethe angrily brushed away tears that were brimming in her lavender eyes with a swipe of her forearm. "How dare they!" she hissed. "How dare they! How is it that humans have such a wicked soul to treat...living beings like rats in the streets?"
Muarim placed a great hand on her shoulder, his eyes calm and steady. "Peace, Lethe. You know that all beorc are not evil. You have seen first hand the noble and righteous ones that live among them. And now that our war is over, things are changing. With blessing, we will never be back to those times again."
She sniffed and rubbed her face again. "It is truly amazing that you have more compassion for beorc than I after living under their dirty feet for so long."
Muarim smiled gently. "I saw evil, but I knew good as well." He pulled the carving he had bought from his bag and unwrapped it. The graceful figure of a mage was carved into the deep mahogany wood, fire bursting from the sculpture's tiny hands.
"I bought this for Tormod." He handed the carving to Lethe. "Never had I known somebody so unblinded by prejudice. The measure of his spirit is amazing. He wants life between laguz and beorc everywhere to completely equal in every way, and I don't think he will ever stop working short of that goal. Though I can carry him easily with one finger, he'll always be stronger and braver than I am."
Lethe cradled the wooden magician in her hand. "I'm sure he will love this."
Muarim smiled. "I know he will. When we were living in our fortress in the desert with the other laguz, he poured over anything that I brought him, no matter how small. It meant a lot to him."
"He should come visit Gallia sometime. He would probably enjoy it."
Muarim's voice lifted to a more joyful note. "I received a letter from him a day or so ago. He's busy in Begnion with work the apostle has given him. She actually gave him a position on one of her investigative teams. He says that she seems to be less irritable now, but I hope he remembers his manners. He's very much like you, Lethe."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she questioned, a bit indignant.
"You both speak directly from your hearts. You say what you feel, no matter the feelings of the others you speak to. I admire that. I could never speak that way."
Lethe felt a slight blush creep over her cheeks. She nervously scratched her head, trying to look nonplussed by his compliment. "It's not always a good thing. Sometimes...I'm too hasty."
"That's true. I have proof of that." He ran his hand over the barely visible scratch she had given him the day before, laughing.
Lethe smiled, her tail curling. Seeing him open up from his shell and relax made her feel good.
He deserved to be happy after what he had seen.
Through the smile he wore now, she could still see the devastation that lay behind. Sorrow. Mistrust. Suffering. Now that he had opened up, though, the burden seemed a bit lighter.
She would do everything in her power to end that burden, she vowed, as she looked into his saffron eyes.
"The rain's cleared up," Muarim stated, rising from the shelter. "I still need to buy thread."
"I know where you can get that at a good price. Follow me."