Warsinger: Ch 34

Karalti and I went to bed in my bathtub, nestling down into the soft sand. Neither of talked about what had happened earlier in the night. The stress of dealing with the assassin had wiped us both out, and even as we curled around one another, there was an awkward, unspoken tension. I was having to admit to myself that there was a reason I’d kept my virginity into my twenties, and it wasn’t just for lack of opportunity. No matter how hard I’d rebelled against my dad’s toxic ideas about when, how and who I was supposed to bang, there were things about your upbringing that just stuck with you. Shame was tenacious, and Karalti and Suri were making me face the fact that… well... I wasn’t nearly as liberated as I thought I was.

I woke with Karalti laying on my chest, her hand curled by her face. I stroked her hair back, watching her eyelids flicker. Transformed like this, she seemed as delicate as an orchid. Her skin was opalescent, flexing with the light like the skin of a rainbow boa constrictor. She was perfectly relaxed in my arms, perfectly trusting. It stirred a lot of feelings: protectiveness, lust, guilt, shame. I wanted to kiss her, roll her over in the sand, maybe try making her first time… gentler, maybe. I was still thinking about how ridiculous that was when she murmured, stretched, and rubbed her jaw against my chest.

“Mmm…” Karalti licked her lips. Her eyes fluttered open and met mine. I fell into them, as always, and my breath caught as the Bond resurged. I held my hand up, fingers loose. Without asking, she slid her palm over mine, linked our fingers, and squeezed.

“I know we didn’t get far, but I’m going to have to tell her,” I said, haltingly. “She might be okay if we admit what happened. I know she won’t be if I don’t say anything.”

“It’s fine,” Karalti whispered through the link. “I know. Don’t worry about it for now, though, alright? The heat comes and goes, and I won’t be like this all year. But, when it happens again…”

“Yeah.” I smiled, and brushed some hair away from her cheek. “I know. I think Suri does, too.”

“I think she does. And I think… I think she’s okay with it.” Karalti hesitated a moment, then pulled herself up out of the sand to her waist. We had both sunk into it over the course of the night, and her bare skin was dusty. “I’m… I’m sorry. I remember everything you said to me, about not being ready, about not wanting to take advantage of me and feeling weird about these feelings, because you raised me. But I’m not human. I’m Solonkratsu. I am what I am and, well… we are what we are.”

“Mm.” I nodded fractionally.

“I…” She stroked cool fingers down my stomach and bowed her head. She had put on another five inches of hair with her last level up, the roots soft and loose in contrast to the fall of fine braids that pooled across the surface of the bathtub. Her expression flickered, and then she pulled herself upright, letting sand stream down her body.

“Huh?” I sat up as well, dusting out my hair.

“It’s nothing.” Karalti looked back over her shoulder at me, a brief smile passing across her lips. “Let’s go see how Vash is doing!”

Istvan drilling new troops in the yard, screaming at them with the benevolent sadism of a skilled NCO. The door to the hospital was locked, the windows sealed, and the scent of clear spirits hung around the building like an antiseptic mist. According to the map, Rin was inside, as were Masha, Lazar, and Vash.

“Guess they’re going ahead with the surgery.” I remarked, watching as Istvan expertly disarmed a recruit with his wooden practice sword and gave him a couple of swats on the ass with it, to the amusement of the others standing around the sparring ring. “I hope Istvan can stay off the sauce while we’re gone.”

“I think he will, as long as we write back sometimes,” Karalti said. “He doesn’t like to drink, but he struggles with despair. He only does it when he feels hopeless… like there’s nothing left to live for.”

I arched an eyebrow, glancing across at her. “Look at you, being all grown up and insightful.”

“Of course. I’m as insightful as I am beautiful.” Karalti smugly flipped her hair back. “But I’ve only got thirty minutes on my spell timer left, so I’d better go take care of that before I change shape somewhere too small to handle the extent of my majesty.”

“You HAVE been eating a lot lately,” I teased. “Your majesty gets a little more extensive every day.”

“You’re one to talk,” she huffed. “I have to level a special skill just to carry your fat ass around.”

“You know what happens when you start making fun of the ducal hiney,” I said. “Do you really want to go down that path?”

Karalti hurrumphed. “MY hiney is sleek and properly plump for a dragon of my size. YOU eat too much bread.”

“This is your final warning before I follow you around everywhere you go, raving and twerking.”

“I should make you shake it for money in the Karhad Market.”  She vaulted onto the railing of the walkway and made a face at me.

“That’d be one way to fill the treasury.” I grinned back.

Karalti stuck her tongue out, then dropped down to the next railing down. She bounced off it to the ground, breaking into a jog.

“Looks like all that agility training paid off.” I couldn’t help but feel a touch of pride, watching her move like that. 

There was some housekeeping to do before we went anywhere. I went to my office, and was surprised to see my new Valet inside. He was tidying up: the place no longer had the shabby look of an abandoned room, and there was a silver tray with a cover waiting for me.

“Good morning, my lord,” Rudolf said. “I noticed you prefer to spend most of your time here, so I thought you might like to take your breakfast at your desk. If you prefer to eat elsewhere…?”

“Uh, no, the desk is fine. Thanks.” I shuffled in, feeling a little awkward. The last person to make food and insist on serving me had been my grandmother. “What’s on the menu?”

“Salt pork stew with eggs over rice,” he replied. “We still lack a lot of fresh produce, I’m afraid. The Volod’s food relief ought to arrive soon enough, and after that, we will have less homely fare.”

“’Over rice’ is always going to win with me.” I plopped down and uncovered the dish, and sure enough, there was a heaped bowl of fluffy white rice with a fried egg, chives, and stew poured over the top. It smelled amazing. “You have no idea how glad I am to see really good rice again.”

“Oh?” Rudolf continued dusting. “Most noblemen would turn their noses up at such a humble grain. Steamed barley is usually more suited to the upper-class palate.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing.” I said, breaking the egg and gathering up a spoonful of food. “My parents and grandparents always had a big rice cooker warm on the counter full of stuff called japgokbap. Like a kind of multigrain rice.”

“Interesting name. Sounds like something you would find in Jeun.”

“I bet.” I broke out some of the kim-chee I’d bought at the market, dumping about half a bowl on it. “It had this really comforting smell. I ate all kinds of stuff, but that smell always told me that food was there.” 

“I’ll be sure to pass that on to the kitchen. Livia may know how to make it.” Rudolf said. “Excuse me, my lord: I must go and clean the bathroom. And, my lord… in regards to the bathtub…?”

“It’s fine. I’ll scoop it out if it gets gnarly.” I savored another spoonful of stew and rice. It was fluffy and tender, the first good rice I’d eaten in over five years. The stuff you got in MREs was like bleached rat droppings compared to this. “I’m going to have to replace the bed with some kind of purpose-made sandbox.

“That will be an interesting challenge,” he replied archly. “Do you need it due to your… affliction?”

“Yeah. My affliction.”

Rudolf let out a little sigh. “Understood. I will look into it. Perhaps, if you are willing to expend some Build Points, we can expedite renovating this apartment more to your specifications?”

“Sometime. Not yet. We’re not going to be here much: I can’t justify pampering myself while there’s cities and villages struggling to survive.” I bought up my Kingdom Management HUD, and was pleased to see I’d gotten another 20 Build Points from leveling up, giving me a total of 140: not a bad start. I had about 5,000 olbia left in the bank, so I committed half of the points and two thousand gold to rebuilding roads, importing some more food, and opening up the marketplace, easily the two most important factors in restarting the county’s economy and getting people back to work, fed and housed. The rest of the points and another thousand olbia went to building the temporary accommodations that Ur Gehlan had requested: shelter for the refugees-turned-harvesters who would help us ride out the coming year.

My Level 24 level-up was next. I hadn’t seen the need to rush after the Tomb Guardian battle – oops – mostly because I was one level away from being able to unlock Level V combat abilities. For now, I dumped my two combat points into Shadow Dance and Rain of Glass:

>> Rain of Glass IV

Chained from Master of Blades. Twist acrobatically mid-air, unleashing a second blast of Dark energy shards down on a group of enemies. 1350 damage to 6 enemies. Damage and number of affected enemies increases when you level this skill.

Shadow Dance III

Basic Evasive Dash reduces damage by 85% at the cost of HP (8 HP per dash). Can now be used twice in a row before recharging, including while in mid-air.

I’d been resisting leveling up Shadow Dance, because I’d been pretty sure there would be better mobility dashes going forward, but after the Golem and Assassin fights I wasn’t waiting any longer. Shadow Dance had saved my life more times than any other ability. Rain of Glass was also a no-brainer: The MoB-RoG combo was one of the best heavy-hitters available to me, made even better by the fact it was not technically magic. That meant it didn’t consume mana, couldn’t be dis-spelled, and was spammable as long as I had enough adrenaline points. I was up to 400 AP now: enough that I could use the MoB-RoG combo, then Whirlwind Butcher, then Mob-RoG again after Butcher regenerated AP. In theory, if I could somehow manage to stay in the air, I could just keep doing that over and over again…

My HUD chirped: it was a message from Rin.

“Heya, Hector!” she said. There was no video today – just voice. “I wanted to let you know Vash opted for the surgery, and it went great! Masha had this really clever idea to like… fumigate the room with alcohol to make sure no baddies got in while she was fitting the osteo-fusion implant. I ran some tests to see if he could accept the titanium alloy, and he doesn’t seem to react to it at all. I think he’s gonna be okay.”

“Great. Is he awake?”

“He was never asleep. He refused to be anesthetized… he just meditated through it all. I’m kind of in awe, actually. He said he wants to see you.”

“Sounds like Vash. I’ll be down soon.”

There were a couple more things to take care of first: namely, the preparations for Dalim. For me, that meant a lot of brewing and mixing of potions. I used up my remaining stock of green moss to make Green Moss Tinctures. It was a common herb able to be found almost everywhere, so I had a stack of six hundred doses or so. I crafted about twenty potions, plus two dragon-sized ones for Karalti. Other common potions followed: stamina-boosting draughts, a couple of Bonefuse potions, and some other odds and ends. I needed more King’s Grass. There were places to get it in Taltos, and I planned to stock up.

About ten minutes later, I was in the hospital with Istvan while the others were getting ready. Vash was looking down curiously at the big titanium rod-and-socket that now extended from his shoulder. The skin around it had been stitched and slathered in a healing balm that was being left to dry before bandages went on. He had an I.V in his other arm, which was drip-feeding him fluids, and someone – probably Masha – had finished rebraiding his hair.

“How do you feel, metal-man?” I asked from the door.

“Much better than last time. No burning, no itching.” He looked a bit wrung out, but his weathered face split with a cheerful smile. “So, I’m coming with you all now, you know that?”

“Ridiculous man,” Masha muttered.

I eyed the freshly-sewn arm. “I think it would be really stupid for you to come with us to Dakhdir.”

“You would rather take me than have me follow you,” he said. “The Masterhealer here has told me that, with the help of these potions and poultices of hers, I should soon regain my health and be able to attach the arm within three days. It will take us four to reach Dalim by airship. That means I should be in fighting form by the time we arrive. In the meantime, I plan to take Karalti up on her desire to become a Baru.”

“Think you can start her on the Advanced Path in that short amount of time?” I asked.

“She is bonded to a Starborn rider,” he replied. “Which means that she learns at freakish speed, so long as she has the ‘points’ for it. You and she have already laid all the groundwork for her training. She’s fast, she’s strong, and she seems to have already absorbed some combat savvy from you. Her mental skills need more training than her body does. The Baru path requires two things: speed and wisdom. She is well-endowed with the first and rather lacking in the second.”

“Yeah,” I said. “My fault.”

“Everyone has weaknesses.” Vash absent-mindedly shrugged, and winced. “Ah-ta-ta, that smarts.”

“And you’re sure about this?” I crossed my arms.

“Absolutely. I’m not letting you idiots run off on your own. You’ll get yourselves killed.” Vash paused, and cleared his throat. “I may need help getting on Karalti’s back. And by that, I mean you will need to carry me onto your dragon like a blushing bride. Think you can do that for me, dog?”