Chapter 2 | Something Spare

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Let's say that you woke up somewhere and needed to find clues to where you were. How would you ascertain that you were truly not on earth anymore? Was it the people you were with? The fantasy elements in the world around you? The weird creatures coming from the woods to get close to your camp?

I figured that would do the trick, but no. As it turned out, the one thing that really drove home that I was in another world entirely was the missing anchor of white in an expansive, colorful nebula that depicted this world's night sky.

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Today was just like any other typical day on the road.

At the break of dawn, it quickly became bustling around the carriages. Horses were put in front of their caravans, and everyone got ready to decrease the distance to their goal once more.

I reckoned that this was nothing new in their lives, being merchants and all.

Lucky old me also got the chance to be on the front seat of our caravan, wrapped around my dad's chest in my sling, from where I had an excellent view while the world rolled by—front row, so to speak.

About 13 days ago, we were in a beautifully multicolored landscape with lush vegetation and vast fields. Alongside the highway we were traveling on, I saw disjointed rice fields, plots full of unknown plants, and grazing livestock. This world has already reached a certain level of agriculture, which was definitely a good sign.

Now, the green fields were gradually receding, and gray rocks and brown patches were taking over, while the mountains were coming closer.

It was strange, but I found that I had an uncanny sense of time and direction. I didn't have that in my previous life, so was this due to my current body?

"It's not far anymore. We should be there after the red zandolit passage," said Irhaal to my mother, who was sitting next to us and also enjoying the view.

Contexts like this one helped me immensely to advance in my language understanding. "Red zandolit" was the name of a trail that would probably be the last milestone on our journey. It was unclear to me what or who a zandolit was, but that might become clear when we reach it. Maybe it was a valley known for its beautiful zandolit flowers?

"Ha, I can't wait to sleep in a real bed again." Salihn smirked. "But it still saddens me a little that we had to leave so much behind. But it can't be helped," she remarked with a slightly sullen tone.

Oh? Is this a nugget of info about why we were on the road at all? I knew exactly what to do in these kinds of situations, and I cooed at her to get her to talk more.

Salihn grinned and stretched a hand out to stroke my head.

"I think it's all going in the right direction, even though it was my carelessness that led to this." My dad replied, unbothered by me.

"You are the only one here who thinks that, you know?" She told him, holding firm eye contact.

"Hm." was the response he chose.

Guys, talk moooore. What's uuuup? I wanna knoooooww…

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On this particular day, our caravan was leading the train, which also meant we had to keep an eye on possible complications that could occur on the road and choose a suitable location for a break.

It would be another two hours until the sun would reach its highest point, which would mark the time for a break to eat and rest a little.

Suddenly, some shouts and rumbling from behind us reached our ears, and my father stopped the caravan. "What was that, an attack?" he wondered aloud, jumped down and drew his sword, which he always carried with him.

A WHAT now? I screamed internally.

My mother announced, "Checking for traps," in her usual composed way.

TRAPS?

But my father had already begun to put his sword away while looking back the way we came. "False alarm."

Salihn also took a quick look down the road, but remarked, "I see. I will still check the area," and began her search.

Irhaal and I, still strapped to him, went to a group of chatting people who had also dismounted from their caravan.

One of them was a short guy with an always present, vague smile plastered on his face that made you think that he understood you and surely had some good advice for you if given the chance. But for some odd reason, the complete opposite was the case when you only focused on his mouth.

Did I think he was trustworthy? No, but it's not rare for me to be wrong about someone. Oh, but maybe my body has better intuition, too. Was that even possible? Only time would tell.

This guy's name was Rae, and he was something like the leader of this gang.
He gave my dad a short nod, gave my snoot a boop, and went on to explain,

"The wheel of the last carriage broke. This position is not ideal, but we will make due. We will set up camp here and repair the damage. " He laid out his plan, but in a slightly irritated voice.

He took a little pause before continuing, "I can't wait to reach Tios and get rid of all the helot. I'm hoping we can sell it in its entirety for a reasonable price.
We also require room, and we may need to purchase a fifth carriage."

See? I just learned two new words. Tios was likely our destination, and helot should stand for wares. He wanted to get rid of all the wares we were transporting to Tios. See? Easy-peasy. Context rules, baby!

"At least the helot are not making too much fuss for Channy," he stated.

Uhm, what? The conversation made a little bit less sense to me now.

Was I actually not as good at analyzing the language as I thought I was?
Think, me, was I filling the gaps with words from context or was I wording context into gaps?
Huh? Does that even make sense? No hold on, just breath.

My analytical understanding was one of the few things I took pride in. I always started to doubt me and go down this path, but maybe it was just this single word and not me?

Let's continue to listen and see if more comes up. Yes, let's go with that.

I felt my doubts rise as the conversation unfolded. But not about my analysis, rather, about the snide remarks directed at the wares in question. And I slowly but surely came to realize that it was not about innocent, cute, little spices.

They were talking about slaves.

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Rae gave my father orders to get Brand and install a spare wheel while the others would prepare food or keep watch.

It seemed that my big, happy family of merchants was actually a big, happy, slightly mean family of merchants... and slave traders? I mean... this was bad stuff, right?

This will definitely give me a hard time.

Wait! Would they sell kids that wouldn't behave as well?! Irhaal, noticing my discomfort, put a hand on my head. He would totally sell me!

I could see Brand and Grizzly approaching us from between the carriages. Grizzly was carrying the spare wheel. in his mouth.

I had never been near the last carriage before, and I had just assumed they didn't want to be bothered by me while driving, which was a bit sad because Channy, one of the drivers, was actually fun. Channy also stood out the most to me because of her race, but I was afraid of staring too long.

She had a captivating appearance, with a lovely face and intriguing plumage. Yes, feathers, like in a full-fledged beast- or bird-person.

Her appearance didn't deviate too much from that of a normal human, except for colorful feathers for body hair, a flamboyant headdress, and three-toed bird-feet. She also dressed normally, with the only exception being that she would walk barefoot. The way she walked with an air of elegance was eye-catching as well. The girl had her pride, that was sure!

To be honest, I was expecting something like this because my parents were elves, so beast-people weren't out of the question. I will have to educate myself on this topic in the near future.

"Hey there, Brand, Grizzly," my Father curtly addressed the not-so-different pair, and was greeted back with an even shorter "Mhm" that could also pass for a grumble.

Grizzly suddenly dropped the wheel, took two big steps and started to look straight at me. "Hm? Oh, you want to greet little Zora? " My dad asked the dog and dropped down on one knee.

Commit-to-the-pat-Grizzi waggled his tail a little and proceeded to push his face into ours to get some rather helpless pats out of us.

We drew closer to the now tilted caravan, from which coughing and whispers were coming. A couple of people were visible through the small holes in the side. It only now clicked in my head why Rae always seemed to make so much food! I just thought that he was bad at measuring.

At least they had blankets, wore clothes, and were fed just as often as the rest of us were, though maybe not as much.

It was dreadful. And judging by the different voices, there must have been a couple of men, women, and even children in there. My father and Brand went around the carriage, indifferent to the begging slaves. If however someone tried to reach out, it was swiftly struck. They started their repair work with the tools Brand had brought with him.

After about an hour, the new wheel was in place and the old one was stripped for parts to fix some other minor damage. You could say the carriage was as good as Brand-new!

Hee hee.

If my father could hear me, he would probably throw me straight in there.